#fingers crossed i can finish this in two chapter but we all know what a verbose motherfucker i can be...

[alectoperdita]

Uplifting Spirits by Alecto

Written for the #2024 Kaijou Summer Event

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto Characters: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler, Kaiba Seto Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Romance, Light Angst, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Gods, Kitsune, Foxes, Summer, Summer Romance, Slice of Life

Summary:

The sleepy countryside town was worlds removed from Domino's hustle and bustle, but Katsuya didn't mind it. In fact, he was grateful for the change of pace. House sitting for his grandparents guaranteed a roof over his head for a few months, and after that—well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. No reason to push his luck any further, even if he could really use more. He expected a quiet summer, reminiscent of the ones he spent here as a child, before his parents split. But his life changes forever when he meets the local fox god, Seto.

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Don't miss other fabulous entries for the event in the #2024 kaijou summer tag!

[fangirl-dot-com]

🪡The Obvious String

*part of the reverse trope series*

Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?

*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 

Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 

Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 

So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 

And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)

His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 

“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 

Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 

Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 

The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 

Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 

Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 

The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 

“We?” 

Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 

When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 

His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 

Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 

Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 

The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 

“And why are the two of you here?” 

Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 

“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 

“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”

Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 

“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 

Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 

“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 

“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”

A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 

Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 

The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 

The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 

All he got was a glare back. 

“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 

Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 

“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 

It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 

“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 

“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 

The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 

Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 

The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 

“But George.” 

Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 

“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 

The group of four winced at the memory. 

Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 

Lewis looked a bit pale. 

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 

Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 

Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  

Lando ran a hand down his face. 

“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 

George cocked his head. 

“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 

Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 

George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 

Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 

A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 

When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 

“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”

Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 

Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 

“Yes! Do you?” 

The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 

“No.” 

The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 

“Why would you do that!” 

Now Lewis was the one whining. 

“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 

The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 

“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 

“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 

All eyes landed on Oscar. 

The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 

Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  

An audible gulp was heard. 

Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”

Everyone looked a little lost. 

“Aha!” 

The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 

“What!” 

He held his phone up with a contact showing. 

“We call Seb.” 

“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 

For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 

“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 

A sigh was heard through the speaker. 

“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 

Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 

“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 

Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 

Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 

Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 

“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 

Their silence had answered for them. 

Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 

“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 

“Hey!” 

It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 

“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 

“What!” Pierre yelled. 

“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 

“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 

“Ask them what?” 

The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 

“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 

Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 

He took a sip of his Red Bull. 

Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 

“Hey!” 

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 

“Thank you Charles.” 

The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 

“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 

The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 

Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 

“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 

The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 

Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 

“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 

Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 

“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 

Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 

“Thank you schatje.” 

This time, a whine came from you. 

“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 

Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 

“WHAT?” 

You turned back to the group. 

“Are you all fine?” 

Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 

The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 

Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”

Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 

Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 

It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 

A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 

Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 

“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 

You nodded. “Yes.” 

Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 

The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 

“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 

Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”

A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 

“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 

Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 

The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 

“You won’t tell anyone right?” 

Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 

Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 

Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 

Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 

Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 

Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 

“Then . . . who knows?” 

Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 

“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 

You pulled out his fingers and counted.  

“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 

Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 

Max smirked. 

“Oh, and Seb.” 

There was silence amongst the group. 

“Oh he is so dead.” 

“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 

“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 

“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 

“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 

“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 

“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 

You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 

You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 

Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 

“Nah.” 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 21- Paradise

Summary: Now that you and Javi are married, it's time for you to enjoy two weeks of nothing but your three favorite "S's"- Sun, sand, and sex. Lots of Sex.

Word Count: 13.9K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (WHOOPS), stopping birth control/starting a family, kind of semi-public sex (sex on the beach hehe), alcohol/drinking (y'all are getting wasted at the pool), I'm convinced these two can't have sex without getting caught (sorry, Chucho), Javi in a bathing suit, these two are so stupidly in love

A/N: ..... Hey.... Y'all remember when I actually wrote for this story.... 😭 I'm genuinely SO sorry that this chapter took me literal months to finish, but she is finally here!!! Thank you so much for all of your patience and the love you've shown these two even in this story's absence 🥺 I hope you enjoy these two horndogs on their honeymoon!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“We have all of our bags?” 

“Yup.” 

“Passports?” 

“Mhmmmm.” 

“Plane tickets?” 

“Yes.” 

“We’re positive that we have-” 

“Baby, I promise, I triple checked everything this morning, it’s all waiting by the front door, all we have to do now is just wait for my dad to pick us up and take us to the airport, and all my wife needs to do is take a deep breath and relax.” 

My wife. 

Even though you had been married for less than 24 hours, you knew the sentiment of finally getting to be Javi’s wife wasn’t wearing off on you any time soon. 

Javi smiled, playfully crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you as you ran through your honeymoon inventory again, knowing damn well you looked like a fool in your frantic pre-traveling state. You more than trusted that Javi had everything the two of you needed before you left for the airport, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that you felt like you were forgetting something, despite all your checks and re-checks. 

“Well, your wife will be much more relaxed once we land after being trapped in a flying tin can and have two feet on the ground again.” You sighed, trying not to let your fear of flying override your excitement to finally arrive in the Bahamas later that day. “God, I feel like I forgot to pack something important but I can’t figure out what.” 

As you stared in frustration at your pile of suitcases, you could feel Javi sneaking behind you, flushing his chest to your back as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I think I know what it is.” Javi smirked, his kisses traveling down your jaw as he nipped at your ear, making you turn your head back toward him in confusion. 

“Oh, so now you’re a husband and a mind reader. That honestly will come in very handy.” You teased, giggling while you shifted around to face him, draping his arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your waist, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. “Jesus Javi, what in the world am I forgetting, because you seem pretty darn happy I can’t remember it.” 

“You really don’t know?” Javi asked, almost mockingly, tightening his grip around your hips, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, the hot words of his breath dancing across your skin. 

“No, Mr. Mind Reader, I don’t, and you’re making it very hard to concentrate and figure out what it is.” 

You were trying your best to genuinely let your brain run out its train of thought, but as Javi’s kisses across your collarbone became wetter and sloppier, trying to form any sort of coherent idea was practically impossible. 

Javi paused for a moment, reaching both hands up to cusp your face, his broad hands cradling your jaw as his thumbs swiped across your cheeks, looking up at him to see the boyish grin spread from cheek to cheek. 

“You’re forgetting something because you’re forgetting to bring it on purpose. Something we threw away this morning, remember?” 

Oh shit. 

You were forgetting something. Only, now that you finally remembered what it was, you couldn’t be happier that you had forgotten it. 

Your birth control. 

As Javi watched your face quickly fade from confusion to delight, your grin was just about as wide as his, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

The two of you could actually start trying for a baby. 

“You remember now?” Javi teased, laughing to himself at how wide your eyes had gone, practically beaming from the inside out at your husband, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat building in your core. 

Leaning up, your mouth met Javi’s in a sloppy dance of tongues and teeth, lips crashing together in electric excitement, grabbing a fistfull of the fitted green t-shirt covering his chest and tugging him closer towards you. 

“How much longer until your dad is supposed to be here?” You rasped, already breathing heavily from your frantic kisses and anticipation. 

Quickly, Javi looked down at his watch wrapped around his wrist, the gears turn in his brain, calculating if the two of you had enough time to do what he knew you were proposing. 

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?” 

Without saying a word, both of you agreed in silent, rushed nods that 40 minutes was enough time to give yourself enough of a buffer, and the risk definitely didn’t outweigh the reward, knowing there was no way in hell that you could wait an entire plane ride and arriving at your hotel room to fuck. 

In an instant, your mouths were crashing together again, Javi grabbing the underside of your thighs to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you back towards the couch in the living room, the back of his knees hitting the sofa as he collapsed into his seat, you still straddling his lap without ever parting your lips. 

Javi’s hands crept below the hem of your shirt, shuffling it over your head and tossing it on the floor before shuffling your shorts and underwear off to join your top in a crumpled pile on the floor. Your hands worked rapidly at the waistband of Javi’s shorts, lifting up off his lap to push them down his thighs, revealing the hard and weeping mess his cock had already become since carrying you over to the couch, your cunt aching at the sight of his length and how desperately you wanted to be filled by it. 

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad.” You whimpered between your wet kisses, shifting yourself closer to hover over his dick, so turned on that you were convinced that your arousal was already dripping down your thighs at an embarrassing rate. 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” Javi groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the sensation at the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit, throbbing and aching under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” 

Reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking it a few times, you slowly lowered yourself down onto his tip, knowing that with your limited time and how turned on you were, you didn’t want to feel anything besides the sweet sting of Javi’s stretch filling you to the brim. 

The two of you moaned in unison as you sank down on his length, bottoming out until you had taken every inch of him, taking a second to adjust to his size before rolling your hips over his lap in figure eights. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good, Javi.” You whined, circling your bottom half faster, the friction of the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously against your clit combined with Javi groping at your breasts, sucking at one of your pebbled nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

Javi began to let his hips rut up into yours, thrusting his length deeper into your cunt as you rode him, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and wrapping around your ass, massaging the plump flesh between his fingers while his lips crashed into yours again, catching each other’s muffled moans. 

“F-fuck…”  Javi whined, tightening his grip to try and maintain his composure as his thoughts began to flow straight from his brain through his mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, Osita. Fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you grow our our kid and give us our perfect family.” 

“Oh my god- fuck- yes. Please, Javi. Fuck, I want you to knock me up. I wanna- fuck- I wanna�� make you a daddy.” You moaned, running your hands through the dark curls of Javi’s hair as he began to pound into you even harder, his fingertips gripping your hips with bruising intensity as he guided you up and down his cock, the two of you both so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t heard a faintly familiar voice echoing from the front door. 

“Javi, Mija, I know I’m a little early but I figured you’d rather get to the airport earlier than later!” 

Little did poor Chucho know that today was one of the few times in his life that he would regret showing up anywhere earlier than expected. 

Surprised by the lack of response, despite the packed and stacked bags waiting by the front door, an unsuspecting Chucho kicked off his boots and began meandering down the entryway towards your living room, where and even more unsuspecting you and Javi were half dressed and sprawled across your couch trying to make a baby. 

“Javier? Mija? Are you two ready to leave soon? I was hoping that- Oh Dios Mio!” 

“AHHHHHHH!” 

With Javi’s back to his dad as you sat in his lap, you were the first to lock eyes with your now father-in-law, your jaw practically falling to the floor as you let out a panicked shriek, causing Javi to whip his own head around, terror running through his veins as he frantically threw you off his lap and tried to cover the both of you with the nearest blanket he could find. 

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi shouted, hands covering his face that had turned bright red in quite possibly the world's worst kind of embarrassment. “Why are you here so early?! Please just, I- I don’t know, for Christ’s sake, please go wait outside!” He sighed, pointing towards the front door where Chucho had just regrettably entered from. 

“How was I supposed to know!? I figured I would be safe! Say no more, I will just go wait on the front porch. Aye, aye, aye…” Chucho replied, quickly scampering away towards the door, eyes peeled to the ground and arms up in self-defense, waiting until you heard the soft slam and clicking lock behind him before peering out from underneath your blanket shield. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, hands still covering his face as you looked up at him, cheeks glowing beet red in embarrassment. 

“Please don’t tell me your dad just walked in on us having sex…” You winced, absolutely knowing the answer to your question, but still somehow praying that maybe, just maybe, you were imaging things. 

“... My dad definitely just walked in on us having sex.” Javi sighed, his face as almost as red as yours, scrambling to find your clothes scattered between the cushions, tossing them over to you, frantically trying to cover yourself up to save any ounce of dignity you had left. 

“Well, looks like I am going to start walking to the airport because I don’t think I can ever make eye contact with your dad again…” You muttered, making you and Javi laugh just enough to try and ease the uncomfortable tension, wondering how in the world you were supposed to spend an entire ride to the airport with Chucho without wanting to crawl out of your skin. “I thought you said he was supposed to get here later!”

“Well that’s what I thought too, but apparently not!” Javi grumbled, shuffling his shirt over his head, combing his hand through his hair to try and fix the mess you had made raking your fingers through it. 

“Guess we won’t have any worries about getting to the airport on time…” 

“Guess you’re right about that. Fuck me…” 

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?” 

While Chucho, you and Javi had seemingly made a silent pact to not say a peep to each other the entire car ride for the duration of your drive, every passing second seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than the last, truly regretting your decision to not grab your bags and walk along the highway to try and catch your flight. 

It wasn’t until Chucho began pulling up to drop the two of you off that he decided it was time to break your truce, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror as the two of you sat awkwardly in the backseat, bracing yourself the moment you could feel his mouth begin to open. 

“You know, the night of our wedding, Lucia and I just couldn’t keep our hands off each other either, it was so-” 

“Dad!” Javi interjected, his face physically scrunching in pain at the thought of how his father planned to complete the rest of that thought, trying to cut him off before he could get any further. 

“Lo siento (Sorry)! God forbid I try to do something to ease the tension!” Chucho chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense at his statement. 

“I don’t think where you were headed was the way to do that, Pops.” Javi muttered, letting out another deep sigh of embarrassment. 

 “Well lucky for you, it looks like we’re here.” Chucho smiled, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of your gate and turning off the ignition. “Here, let me help you with the bags in the trunk and-” 

“Nope, already got it, Pops, please do not get out of the car.” Javi begged, practically sprinting out of the backseat to the trunk, you quickly following behind him, beginning to sheepishly unload your luggage from the car. 

Of course, Chucho being Chucho was not about to take no for an answer, slowly fumbling his way out of the car to greet the two of you at the trunk with a mischievous grin stretched ear to ear. 

“Pops, please, I told you I’ve got it, I-” 

“Oh hush, Javier, I am just coming out to say goodbye, yo promento (I promise).” Chucho laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. 

“Bye Chucho.” You grimaced, leaning in reluctantly for a hug. “Thanks for dropping us off. S-sorry about earlier.” You couldn’t help but wince again, eyes darting to the ground at your last sentence. 

“Oh mija, don’t apologize. Could be worse.” 

“I’m not really sure how it could be…” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for Javi to hear, making him hold back a snort. 

“Besides, I think this bodes well for my bet I have placed.” Chucho smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as the two of you looked at him in confusion, 

“Your bet?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at his dad. 

“Mhmmm. The bet between me, your family, Mija, and the Murphy’s.” 

“As much as I love a vague and cryptic guessing game, any chance you’re gonna tell us what that bet is?” You laughed uncomfortably, looking back between Javi and Chucho. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mija. I think the two of you will know soon enough. Okay, enough of that! I will let the two of you go. Have a safe flight and a wonderful trip. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Enjoy your first of your many amazing adventures as a married couple.” 

While you couldn’t deny you still weren’t far off from wanting to find the nearest hole and disappear in, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sentiment of Chucho’s well-wishes, placing your hand in Javi’s and squeezing it tight, beaming up at your husband with love and excitement. 

“Thanks, Pops.” 

“Claro (of course). Alright, mijos, adios. Have fun. But not too much fun, if you know what I-” 

“Yup, we know exactly what you mean, bye, Dad!” Javi grunted, gently turning his father around and pushing him back towards the car making him laugh, giving the both of you one last wave goodbye before disappearing down the road. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m glad that’s over…” Javi sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You can say that again. What bet do you think he was talking about?” 

“Honestly, no fucking clue. And truth be told, right now, I couldn’t care less. Because right now,” He paused, leaning down to hold your cheek in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “all I care about,” he paused once again, planting a playful kiss on your lips, “is getting my beautiful wife onto this plane so we can start our honeymoon.” 

“Say it again.” You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him back. 

“My wife. My beautiful, amazing, drop dead gorgeous wife, who has single-handedly made me the luckiest man in the entire world.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as his grip tightened around you, making you giggle. 

“Easy there, Romeo, we still have a whole flight to get through, ya know.” 

Fortunately, your flight and arrival to the Bahamas was much less eventful than anything that had happened this morning, the embarrassment of your father-in-law’s unfortunate timing quickly fading away as you strolled up to the front desk to check into your room for the next ten days of nothing but what you had deemed your three favorite “S’s��- 

Sun, sand, and sex. 

Lots of sex. 

“Hi there! Welcome! My name is Cassandra, how can I help the two of you today?” A woman smiled politely from behind the check-in desk, quickly clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hi. We’re checking in for Peña.” Javi beamed, grabbing your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over both sets of rings wrapped around your finger, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever get used to the fact he was lucky enough to get to call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

“Perfect! Let me get right on that.” She nodded, fingers tapping across the keys as she looked up your information. “Any special reason for your stay here?” 

“Honeymoon.” The two of you answered in sync, laughing to yourselves at your well timed response. 

“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with?! Let me see if I have anything I can upgrade you to for your stay!” Cassandra scoffed, almost comedically offended that your opening line hadn’t been “It’s our honeymoon, upgrade our room please!” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” 

“Oh, honey, please. This is my favorite part of my job. Absolutely the least I can do for the two of you. Congratulations. Just give me one second here and…. Ah! Yes! I thought this one was available. Let’s upgrade you to the Ocean View King Suite. This one is one of my favorite rooms. You get the most beautiful view of the sunrise right from your balcony!” 

You and Javi looked at each other beaming, grins plastered across your faces in surprise. “Thank you so much, this is so nice of you to do for us.” You smiled. 

“Of course. Least that I can do. Like I said, it’s one of the highlights of doing this job. Alright, well, here are your room keys!” Cassandra grinned, passing the key cards and room information over the concierge desk and handing them to you and Javi. “If you head over to your right, there’s a bay of elevators that will take you to your room. I hope that you two have a wonderful stay, and enjoy your honeymoon!” 

“Thank you again, we really appreciate it.” Javi nodded, stuffing things into his pocket before leaning down to give you a kiss and reaching back to grab his suitcase and your hand in his. 

As Javi turned, leading the two of you towards the elevator, you couldn’t help but laugh at Cassandra’s face, her eyebrow playfully raised and head nodding in approval, pointing at Javi and giving you a thumbs up, as if you needed more confirmation that you had made a top-tier choice on the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. 

“What’s so funny?” Javi smirked, tilting his head in confusion at your giggles as the two of you stepped into the elevator with the small crowd of people on their way back to their hotel rooms. 

“Nothing. Just some reassurance that I cleaned up pretty damn well in the husband department, which I can’t say I disagree with.” You snickered, reaching up to wrap your hand around his jaw, squeezing his cheeks in your grasp. 

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” 

“A dork who is now your wife, thank you very much.” You sassed, crossing your arms over your chest, making the two of you laugh quietly to yourselves until the ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Oh! I think this is us!” Quickly scrambling to grab your suitcase, you dashed out of the elevator as the doors parted, followed by Javi, trying to keep up with your excited pace. 

“Alright, Mrs. Dork, we’re room 2331.” Javi grinned, pulling the information from the front desk out of his pocket, scanning the hallway for rooms approaching your number, watching you search in front of him with detective-like accuracy. 

“Okay, let’s see, 2329… 2330… Here! Here it is! 2331!” You beamed, showing off the number of your room Vanna White style to Javi as he began to slip the room key into the card reader, pausing for a moment to stare at you with his sweet brown eyes in the midst of your goofiness. “What’s that look for?” You teased, smiling back at him. 

“Just reminding myself of how lucky I am. I love you, Mrs. Peña.” 

Mrs. Peña. 

You couldn’t help but let your heart skip a beat at the sound of him saying it, still not quite sure that the incredible reality of your new last name had completely sunk in with you yet. 

“I love you too, Mr. Peña. Now, you gonna open this door so we can put this room to use or what?” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at him playfully, gesturing towards your hotel room door. 

With a quick swipe of your room key the two of you unlocked your door to get a first glimpse of your hotel room. At first, the both of you were convinced you must have been in the wrong place, because this was the most beautiful, luxurious hotel room that you had ever laid eyes on. Complete with a giant king bed covered in fresh white sheets, free standing tub, huge couch and living room area, newly renovated, and most impressively, a huge set of sliding glass doors that lead to your balcony overlooking a breath-taking view of the beach and ocean below you. 

Mental note to self- you owed Cassandra at the big desk the biggest thank you ever. 

“Holy shit, Javi. This is gorgeous.” You muttered to yourself, dropping your bags off at one of the closets at the front of the room as you began to wander and explore, gently poking and prodding around as if you were a tourist in a museum, rather than a hotel guest in your own room. 

“It’s got no lack of options, that’s for sure.” Javi laughed quietly to himself, following behind you as he set down his own bags before doing an investigation of his own, the majority of which was spent watching you excitedly explore the in’s and outs of your new home for the next 10 days. 

“No lack of options?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, as you turned towards Javi, hands resting on his hips with a smug grin spread from ear to ear. 

“Mmmhmmm.” He replied, making his way towards you until his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest to force your gaze up at his brown eyes, pooling with an equal combination of excitement and mischief. “No lack of options in this room for places I get to fuck my beautiful wife.” 

“You’re so bad!” You teased, giving him a little slap to his chest as the two of you laughed, knowing that you had the exact same thought, he was just the first to say it. 

“Oh c’mon, like you didn’t think the same thing.” 

“Okay listen… you’re not wrong. I would be a liar if I didn’t walk in here and think about how many different furniture choices we could fuck on before we had to leave.” You sighed in a playful defeat, your breaths slowly transforming to light and giggly to low and needy as Javi slid his hands resting on your hips down to your ass, palming it in his grasp. 

Craning his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan as he sucked at your pulse point, wet kisses consuming your neck and jawline as a damp patch began to pool in your underwear, falling apart under Javi’s touch. 

“Well if that’s the case, what should we break in first, Osita? What does mi esposa (my wife) want? ” Javi hummed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pushing them over your hips and down your legs until they pooled around your ankles, leaving your bottom half bare. 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, you whimpered as his fingers ghosted over your core, grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to make you shutter in anticipation, feeling the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your thighs with want and need. 

“F-fuck-” You stammered, trying to string together anything that resembled a coherent thought, “The b-bed. Fuck me on the bed, baby, please.” 

Without another word, Javi had scooped you up under your thighs, forcing your legs to lock around his waist as he carried you toward the bed, mouths crashing together in a hungry mess of tongues and teeth. 

Javi set you down, gently laying your back on the bed just enough to let your lower half hang off the edge so he could make a home between your legs, draping each one over his shoulders and pushing them open further to reveal the wet, puffy mess in between your thighs. 

You should have been embarrassed with how worked up you already were from a few kisses and some ass grabbing, but with how excited you were to be here with your husband, without a worry in the world besides how many times you could disrespect your hotel room before you had to leave, you had no shame in how you were already dripping with anticipation as Javi’s eyes locked on your core. 

“Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Javi cooed, admiring the glistening sheen of your slick covering your folds, planting gentle kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your center. You sat up on your elbows to watch as Javi’s fingers lazily traced your cunt, collecting your arousal, rubbing with just enough pressure to make your clit throb even harder than it already had been. “Always so wet for me, Hermosa. My perfect wife. Fuck, I still can’t believe you’re all mine forever.” 

“Forever.” You whimpered, breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s tongue dragged across your core with a broad, flat stroke, looking up at you with those devastatingly sweet, chocolate brown eyes, pulling off you with the look you knew all too well meant you were absolutely a goner. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby.” Javi hummed, carefully bringing two fingers to your core, sinking them inside your weeping hole to prod steadily against your g-spot 

“Oh my god, fuck-” You whimpered, Javi working at a painstakingly slow pace that still had you writhing under his touch, his mouth and fingers moving in the perfect combination of pressure to already have a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine despite the fact he had just started eating you out. 

Your jaw went slack as his digits prodded faster, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves, ragged moans and whimpers escaping from your lips, growing louder and more wonton by the second. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi cooed, pulling off you just enough to catch your attention, his fingers never faltering in pace, “Fuck, I could listen to you like this all day, Osita. All the pretty noises my wife makes just for me. C’mon, baby. You want everyone here to know who makes you feel this good, huh? Tell them, sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?” 

“Y-you, Javi, fuck- You do, baby.” You moaned, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around Javi’s fingers as his smug smirk pressed back against your cunt, now sucking at your clit with a ferocious switch intensity he knew would send you over the edge in an instant. 

Squeezing Javi’s head between your thighs, you cried out louder, chanting his name like a prayer with each second you grew closer and closer to your end, feeling arousal creeping through your body at a rapid rate. 

“Javi, Javi, fuck- Oh, baby, Javi, I’m gonna- gonnaahhhhhhh-” 

In an instant, your orgasm crashed through you, filling you with all consuming pleasure that had you seeing stars, sobbing out as your cunt clamped down around Javi’s fingers that were pulsing inside you through your high. 

At this point, you were probably close to suffocating your poor husband, but it was his own damn fault for knowing how to make you cum so hard, your soul just about left your body. 

Finally regaining enough inhibition, you let your legs fall open, freeing Javi from the thigh prison he had trapped himself in, still smirking with delight despite his red face and shortness of breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Osita.” He laughed, standing up as he began to shed his clothes, tossing his shirt and shorts in a crumpled pile on the floor, followed by his already tented and stained boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, slapping against his stomach and bobbing between his legs as it was freed. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You huffed, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. “Sorry, not my fault you make me cum so hard I put you in a headlock between my legs.” 

You and Javi both couldn’t help but laugh as he helped you slide further up the bed, crawling over you and caging you under his broad body, peppering every inch of your body with kisses and intentionally tickling you with his mustache in all the places he knew made you giggle the most. 

“If I die between my wife’s thighs buried face deep in her pussy, I’d die a happy man.” 

“Well I have no plans on intentionally murdering you on this trip, so count yourself safe this time, Peña.” 

“Baby, I’m convinced you’re just trying to kill me slowly this entire trip, considering you have nothing packed in your suitcase besides bikinis and sundresses.” Javi sighed, arms planted around your head as he laid overtop of you, kissing up your collarbone and neck, all the way up your jawline. 

“Javier Peña, we are literally on a tropical vacation to the Bahamas. Would you have liked me to pack, a parka and snow pants?” You teased, breath hitching in the back of your throat between giggles, trying to maintain your composure between the wet, hot kisses, Javi was planting across your skin. 

“No,” He grumbled, “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever fucking met, baby, you don’t think people aren’t staring at you everywhere you go? I can’t fucking blame ‘em, but they better notice that ring on your finger and know you’re off limits.” 

Heat crept through your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach from what he had said, picking up on the notion behind his thoughts. Javi wasn’t a jealous man, but fuck, was he a protective one, and God help any man who tried to knowingly make a move on you while he was around. 

He wanted everyone to know you were his, and you just as badly wanted everyone to know he was yours. 

“Maybe just the ring isn’t enough, baby.” He smirked, nipping and tugging at your skin with his teeth as he snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke himself and line his cock up with your entrance. “‘Cause you know what else isn’t in your suitcase?” 

Your birth control. 

You didn’t have to say a word to know exactly what Javi meant, your face swelling with a mixture of excitement and want. 

“Javi, oh fuck-” You moaned, cut off by the sweet sting of Javi pushing into you, filling you up with every inch of himself until he had bottomed out, stalling for a moment to let you adjust to his fullness before slowly dragging his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“Maybe,” he groaned, biting down on his lip at just how good you felt around him, warmth and wetness coating his length with each stroke, “Maybe that ring on your finger isn’t enough, Ostia. Maybe once they see you pregnant with our baby growing inside you, they’ll know you’re mine.” 

It never failed to amaze you just how Javi knew how to make you short circuit with words alone, hoping the entire resort didn’t hear the absolutely pathetic whimper you let out at the idea of finally carrying his baby, showing off your family to the world, and the man who had given it to you.  

“Fuck, knock me up Javi. Wanna- wanna make you a daddy.” You whined, wrapping your arm up around his neck, running your fingers through his dark and sweaty curls, tugging him closer to you until your mouths were molded in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. 

“Christ- Yeah, baby girl? Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you, it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take. Keep you stuffed with my cum every day until it sticks.” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pushing them to your chest and pulling you closer to him so your back began to arch, giving himself the perfect angle to split you open and keep every last drop inside of you. 

You could feel every inch of Javi filling you, perfectly punching against that soft, spongy spot inside your cunt with each thrust, keeping your thighs still pressed against your chest as the lower half of your legs wrapped around the small of Javi’s back, ankles locking together to keep him as close and deep inside you as you could. 

“Dámelo, papi.” You cooed, wicked smile stretched from ear to ear watching Javi physically having to stop himself to let out a strangled groan, clenching his jaw and scrunching his face to keep from busting right then and there.  

“Jesus, fuck-” Javi grunted, finally gaining enough composure to open his eyes and look back down at you beneath him, smugly smirking, “That’s how this is gonna go, huh?"

The chocolate brown of Javi’s eyes began to darken with lust, dragging his cock out and ramming into you so deeply, a pathetic whimper fell from your lips, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest feeling him practically in your stomach. Your whimpers quickly turned to sobs as he did it again, slowly dragging his length out of your wet, warm walls before pounding back in to you with a blinding intensity. 

Leaning down, Javi grabbed your arms, pushing them outstretched above your head until your wrists were crossed over each other and Javi had them both in his firm grasp, pinning you to the bed with the weight of his body and grip. It was like something feral had ignited inside him, brow furrowed and teeth gritted with a laser focus, snapping his hips to thrust himself deeper and harder, melting you to a helpless puddle beneath him, your cries of pleasure and desperation only egging him on more. 

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take every last fucking drop. Every. Last. One.” He huffed, syncing his words to each thrust, keeping a bruising grip over your wrists with one hand, and digging his fingertips into the meat of your hips with his other. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me, baby girl. Tell me whose pussy this is.” 

“It’s yours, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- it’s yours, baby! I- oh shit- I promise I’ll be a good girl and take it all. Want you to fill me up, Papi.” You sobbed, arousal seeping through your veins as Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot over and over, each stroke faster and more intense, blinding your body with pleasure. 

Your hotel room was drenched in the borderline pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching of your pussy squeezing Javi’s cock tighter and tighter as you could feel the coil beginning to tighten in your stomach, crying out without any inhibition for your volume, Javi grunting and panting with equal intensity. 

“That’s my girl. You gonna let everyone hear who this pussy belongs to? Let everyone know that I’m gonna fill you up and get you pregnant?” Javi mewled, watching the way your eyes were nearly rolling in the back of your head, snaking his hand gripping your hip down between your bodies to rub firm and frantic circles around your clit to help push you over the edge knowing how close you were. 

As soon as the calloused pads of Javi’s fingers were pressed against your sensitive nub, you were seconds away from the brink of collapse, cunt clamping tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, choking it with your velvety walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, fuckfuckfuckfuck!” 

Instantly, your orgasm crashed through your body, blinding white heat flooding your vision, pleasure shooting through every inch of you to the point you felt like you had left your own body. You could feel your body going limp beneath Javi, knowing he wasn’t far behind you given all his tell tale signs as you soaked his length with your arousal. 

Javi’s thrusts had forgone any type of rhythm, now sloppy and erratic, his balls tightening and tensing in his stomach, babbling and moaning in your ear, whispering sweet nothings before he found himself in the same state of you. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Cum all over me before I fill up this tight little pussy so full it’s got no choice but to take. Oh fuck- Fuck, can’t wait to get you pregnant. See you carrying our baby. Gonna make you the prettiest fucking Momma-ahhhhhhh, fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Javi was painting the inside of your cunt with thick, warm ropes of his spend, keeping himself flushed as tight as he could to your pelvis, making sure a single drop didn’t escape as he plugged you with his cock, cumming so hard he couldn’t help but whimper. The weight of his body slumped on top of you, syncing your heavy breaths, the sticky and sweaty sheen of your chests pressed together as Javi planted a slow and sensual kiss on your lips, swallowing your moans in his mouth. 

“Holy fuck.” You half whispered to yourself, letting out a bliss-filled giggle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Javi panted, quietly laughing along with you, gently brushing the damp and wild strands of your hair out of your face, “Fuck- You gotta be careful with that “Papi” shit, Osita.” 

“Oh yeah? And why would that be?” You teased, smirking as you raised an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lip, knowing damn well why. 

“Because if you keep that up, I don’t think we’re ever leaving this room.” 

After dinner and giving a few more pieces of furniture in your hotel room a good test run, the two of you had happily called it a night on day one of your honeymoon, eager to explore the rest of the resort as the two of you rose with the golden rays of the sun beaming over the horizon of your ocean view window, flooding your room with warm and welcoming sunlight. 

As much as the both of you were convinced you could have easily spent the next 10 days without leaving your hotel room, you made a pact that you would spend some time going to explore the rest of the resort after spending some much deserved post-wedding de-stressing in the sun by the pool, drinking as many mojitos and frozen daiquiris as you could stomach. 

And as amazing as non-stop sex with Javi would have been, soaking up in the sun poolside with a drink on one side of you and a shirtless husband on the other, you’d say that this was a pretty close second. 

“Another one?” Javi smirked, eyebrows raised at you as his brown eyes peeked over the edge of his aviators, gesturing at your nearly empty glass. 

“I mean… if you’re offering.” You giggled, tipsy after a few drinks and hours baking in the sun, happily holding out the remainder of your mojito for Javi to exchange for a new one. 

“I think the bartender and I are about to be on a first name basis pretty soon.” Javi laughed, shuffling out of his beach chair, grabbing his empty cup along with yours to bring back with him to the poolside bar that had been visited a questionable amount of times by the two of you since you had gotten to the pool this morning. 

“Yeah? Are you gonna tell the bartender the frozen strawberry margaritas you’ve been getting from him all day are for you and not for your wife?” You teased, pulling your sunglasses down to look at Javi, playfully rolling his eyes back at you. 

“Shut up. They’re fucking addicting. You had one, can you blame me?” 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Mr. I Won’t Drink Anything But Beer and Whiskey. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Although, I’m sure Steve would get a kick out of knowing you’ve downed like, 7 of these since we’ve gotten here.” 

Setting down both of the drinks, you found yourself in a fit of squeals and giggles as Javi reached down to scoop you up out of your chair, carrying you bridal style to the edge of the pool before jumping in with the both of you, the refreshing cool of the pool water crashing over you as your bodies bobbed under the surface. 

“Pendejo!” You laughed, splashing Javi as your heads peered above the edge of the water, Javi shaking his hair, damp and clinging to his forehead from your added assault, grabbing you by the waist before you could go any further, shifting you to wrap your legs around him as he held you, childishly swaying you through the water. 

“Te amo, esposa.” (I love you, wife) Javi teased in a mocking tone, responding to your name calling. 

“Joke’s on you, because I wanted to get into the pool anyways. You’re lucky you’re handsome. Mojito me, Peña.” You splashed again, rolling your eyes at his over exaggerated kiss before he swam away, shooting you a wink while he waded his way to the poolside bar. 

It wasn’t long before Javi was making his way back, a drink in each hand, happily handing you your mojito as he got to the edge of the pool where you were sitting, lifting himself up to sit beside you and take a swig of his margarita. 

“Miss me?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Terribly. Most agonizing 6 minutes of my entire life.” You teased, playing into the dramatics as Javi picked up your left hand, admiring the diamond ring and wedding band adorned on your finger before gently kissing it. 

“Sorry to keep my wife waiting. I hope that you’ll accept this mojito as a token of my apology.” 

“I think that’s a fair enough compromise.” 

After a few more hours and several drinks later, it was safe to say that you and Javi had definitely both been in better states than you currently were, too far gone to care about the potential consequences of tomorrow’s hangover to stop yourselves. 

“What time do you think it is?” You asked, sunkissed body sprawled out across the pool chair. 

“Wife O’Clock.” Javi answered, snickering to himself at his answer. 

“Javier Peña, that’s not a real time, you dork.” 

“Half past mojito. A quarter ‘til my next margarita.” 

“Jesus Christ….” You paused, one of the life guards crossing behind you catching your attention, “Hey, excuse me! Do you know what time it is?” 

“Uhhhhh, looks like it’s almost 6!” The lifeguard replied, looking down at his watch before continuing on his path. 

“6?! Oh shit!” You gasped, sitting up straight in your chair. 

“What? What’s happening at 6?!” Javi inquired, seemingly less concerned with whatever was supposed to be happening then that had you so riled up. 

“Javi, we're supposed to be at dinner right now! We made reservations at that italian place, remember?!” You grimaced, frantically starting to grab the towels and clothes you had scattered around the pool deck. 

“Oh fuck! Shit, uh- okay, here, lemme help you!” Javi joined in on the gathering of any item that belonged to you that he could find, tossing it into the bag you had brought down with you, hoping that you didn’t forget anything that had come with you to the pool. 

While the haphazard gathering of items was a good enough sign to any onlooker that you and Javi were more than likely intoxicated, the both of you didn’t realized just how drunk you were until you both tried to stand up out of your beach chairs, grabbing on to each other in a wobbly dance of giggles.  

“Woah, I think I drank a little lotta margaritas.” Javi stammered, laughing to himself. 

“Fuck, I did too. Jesus, how many do you think we had?” You giggled, face scrunching in anticipation of the number that was definitely going to be higher than you had intended when you came to the pool this morning. 

You could see Javi trying to drunkenly calculate his trips to the pool bar in his head, counting across his fingers in a serious concentration, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if it was going to help him focus better. 

“Let’s see, I think after adding them all up… We drank a lot.” 

“If we can’t even come up with a number, that’s not good. Fuck, I didn’t even bring real clothes! Our room is so far from the restaurant, there’s no way we’re even gonna be close to making it!” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“Just put on the cute little dressy thingy over your bathing suit. Or just go in your bikini. You’re so hot they have to let you in.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as he looked you up and down, giving you his best drunken attempt at his bedroom eyes. 

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the other patrons of this resort want to watch me eat pasta half naked, ya sicko.” You teased, giving him a nudge to his stomach a little harder than you had intended. “Okay, cover up will have to do, I guess. Do you have your shirt?” 

“You don’t wanna watch me eat pasta half naked?” 

“As much as I’d love to, maybe another time, weirdo. Okay, we have to go! Or else we’re not getting any pasta, naked or not! Focus, Peña, focus!” You commanded in your best pretend stern voice, grabbing the rest of your things in your hands while Javi stood there, admiring you like the drunken, lovesick fool he was. 

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you, “Okay, fine, fine fine, let’s go. Lead the way, Mrs. Peña.” 

If you didn’t feel drunk enough after simply trying just to stand up out of your pool chairs and collect all your belongings within a 5 foot radius of you, you sure as hell did trying to drunkenly navigate the resort to find the restaurant you were looking for. After asking several employees, you somehow managed to stumble your way through the hotel to find your intended location, “Ciao!” , one of the higher-end dining experiences the two of you had planned for your vacation. 

“Hi. We are married, and we are here to eat pasta.” Javi proclaimed to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, who was looking back and forth between you and Javi, riddled with confusion not only by Javi’s opening statement, but from the fact the two of you were nearly out of breath from running around every inch of the resort, clearly drunk, and still dressed in your swimsuits. 

“Ummmm, okay? What’s the name on the reservation?” The hostess asked hesitantly, flipping through the pages of names and times written down for seating tonight. 

“Peña. We were supposed to be here at 6 but we had a lil too much fun at the pool, but not enough fun that we completely forgot about dinner! We’re really sorry!” You explained, trying your best to keep your composure, biting your tongue to subdue your drunken giggles. 

“Yeah, like, so sorry. I had a lot of margaritas today.” Javi added, turning his head to let out a little burp at the end of his sentence. 

“I don’t see any Peña’s on the reservation for tonight….” The hostess sighed, flipping back and forth between today’s pages, clearly not amused by either of your antics. 

“Oh no… Does that mean we’re not getting pasta? Shit.” Javi pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy. 

“Oh wait, are- are you sure it was a reservation for today? I see Peña on here at 6 for tomorrow?” 

“Oh shit…” You and Javi replied, nearly in sync, visibly grimacing at the fact that you had spent the past 45 minutes in an alcohol induced frenzy, running through the resort to find a restaurant you weren’t even supposed to eat at until tomorrow. 

Whoops. 

“My bad….” You shrugged, sheepishly frowning as you looked back and forth between the hostess and Javi, “Okay, well, um, we’re gonna- We’re gonna go then.” You winced, grabbing Javi by the hand to slowly drag him away from the restaurant, hoping that the physical distance would somehow spare you the embarrassment you had just subjected yourself to. 

“You’re fine, just- We do ask that our guests wear more, um- appropriate attire when they come to dine with us.” The hostess scoffed, huffing at you and Javi, looking you up and down with your beach bound outfits and hands full of pool accessories as you continued to back away. 

“She doesn’t wanna see us eat pasta in our bathing suits?” Javi whispered in your ear, making you snort so loud it almost hurt your chest, trying to keep from bursting into full blown laughter before making it out of eye and earshot of the hostess, jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, only spurring him on further, “She doesn’t know how sexy you’d look shoving a fist full of garlic bread down your throat with nothing on but a bikini? Her loss.” 

Now out of sight of the restaurant, you and Javi exploded into an obnoxious fit of drunken giggles, feeling completely idiotic for wasting nearly the last hour of your night in a whirlwind journey to nowhere. 

“Well, looks like no pasta for dinner tonight.” You sighed, playfully throwing up your hands in defeat. “I am starting to get really hungry though… Like too hungry to go back up to the room and change and then come back down and wait at a restaurant for more food.” 

“Yeah, shit, I’m really hungry too… Wait!” Javi paused, his face lighting up with excitement. 

“What, Jav?” 

“Didn’t we pass a pizza place on the way up to the room when we first got here? 

The grin on your face was now equally as wide, almost certain that you and Javi were having the same drunk recollection. 

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” 

Somehow or another, you had not only managed to find your way to “Papa’s Pizzeria”, you had managed to successfully order an extra large pizza for the two of you to split, and make it back to the room without any pizza casualties on the way. 

Even a drunken you couldn’t help but realize how lucky she was to have married a man like Javi, and not just because of his excellent memory for pizza restaurants- What you had been through in the past hour and a half could have easily sent any other couple into an ugly spiral of arguments and blame they’d cast upon each other for “ruining” the rest of their night. 

You’d been witness to so many relationships and marriages where couples barely managed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, let alone have fun together. Cohabitation drenched in resentment and unhappiness towards each other, forced proximity the only thing keeping them together.  

You were positive that there would never be enough “thank you’s” that you could send out into the universe for letting you marry your best friend. 

Because what would have been a soiled evening for so many others, was quickly turning out to be a better night than you could have ever imagined, plans tossed out the window to sit cross legged in your king sized bed together, bodies draped in fluffy hotel robes as you mowed down on slices of pepperoni pizza, giggling over shared, drunken secrets with your favorite person in the world. 

“Okay, your turn now.” You snickered, shoving another bite of lukewarm pizza into your mouth, giving Javi a playful shove into the sea of pillows at the head of your bed. 

“I just went!” He protested, trying to talk through the mess of cheese, sauce and crust he was still chewing. 

“Nuh uh! I just did, remember? We got off topic because we started talking about the Farrah Fawsect poster you had in your room that your mom made you take down, but you were the one who asked me about who my first celebrity crush was, remember?” You insisted, pointing your half bitten piece of pizza at him, forcing him to hold up his hands in defeat. 

“Okay, okay! Can’t blame me for forgetting after thinking about that poster, though.” Javi shrugged, smirking at the thought of his 12 year old self gawking at the beautiful blonde actress hanging above his bed, “Shit…. Gimmie a second, let me think.” 

“I’ve given you plenty of seconds, goofball! Like all the seconds I spared you thinking about Farrah.” 

“Shut up. Okay,” he paused, taking another bite of pizza, “who was your first kiss?” 

“Really? Why, you gonna go hunt him down?” You snorted, feeling like you were gossiping with your teenage best friend at a sleepover rather than with your husband, Javi laughing along with you as he shook his head, “It was Jack Mullins in the 7th grade.” 

“Okay, and?” Javi prodded, smirking as he interrogated you for more information. 

“It was at a Halloween Party my friend Sarah had at her house. I’m pretty sure we were playing truth or dare, and all my friends knew I had a massive crush on him because he was the cutest boy in the 7th grade. So they dared me to kiss him and I did it. It was so awkward, and I had no idea what I was doing. Pretty sure we kissed while the “The Monster Mash” was playing, too. I was so embarrassed after that I cried in the bathroom and then walked home and didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t ever think I’d speak to him again and he ended up being my date to prom.” 

“Wow. That was a way better story than I was expecting to get. “The Monster Mash”? Truth or Dare?” Javi chuckled as your cheeks turned red, watching your eyes at his enjoyment of your story. 

“Okay, I was 12 Javi, some of us were weird, awkward teenagers. I’m sure that you were very easily the Jack Mullins of your middle school and had girls at the door lining up to kiss you.” You rebutted, having seen plenty of pictures of teenage Javi, thanks to Chucho, knowing whatever awkward phase he went through was only a fraction of your pre-teen pain. 

“No, I wasn’t. I was a pretty shy kid. All my friends had their first kiss way before I did.”  Javi shrugged, now sounding slightly more embarrassed. 

“Okay, so what? They were 12 and you were 13? I don’t believe it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in middle school.” 

“I’m being serious!”  

C’mon, Javi, if I’m telling you about my Monster Mash kiss, I get to hear about yours!” You insisted, giving him the biggest fake pout that you could muster until he gave in. 

“I- I was 16 when I had my first kiss.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Why would I joke about that?” 

“16?!” 

“Osita, you’re making it sound like I was 72 when I had my first kiss, not 16.” 

“Considering how cute you were, yeah, I am! Okay, spill! Now I need to know!” 

“I’m telling you, I was a shy kid. Didn’t really come out of my shell until 10th grade when I started doing swimming. There was a girl on the team I always thought was really cute, but I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. All my friends had girlfriends and dates to go to homecoming with, and I didn’t have anyone, so they forced me to ask her. She turned me down, told me she already had a date. I was devastated. Went to a party with the team after, got drunk for the first time because I was so upset, and ended up kissing my friend’s older sister, Katie. Made out in the laundry room in the basement for the rest of the night. My friend found us after he realized we both had gone missing and ended up punching me in the face and almost breaking my nose.” 

“Holy shit. That’s a way better story than mine.” You gawked, eyes going wide at the turn Javi’s story had taken. 

“I wouldn’t say way better, just stupid.” Javi huffed, “You do dumb things when you’re young.” 

“Well, you must have been a pretty good kisser even back then if she made out with you for an hour. Honestly, would have been dumb if she didn’t make out with you, in my humble opinion.” You giggled, scooting closer to Javi as you snuggled into his lap, resting your head on his outstretched thigh and letting out a big yawn. Resting his hand on your back, Javi pulled you closer, running his fingers through the sun kissed ends of your messy hair, smiling at all the tell tale signs sleep was beginning to creep through your body and the way you snuggled up next to him. 

“Okay, one last question because all these mojitos are catching up to me and I’m getting sleepy.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids begin to droop as you curled up in the warmth of his body, comfort flooding over you from Javi’s presence. 

“Okay, hermosa. Your turn.” Javi cooed, his voice softening to match your sleepy tone, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“If you could change anything about your life, anything you want, what would it be?” 

Javi paused for a moment, his fingers still daintily stroking across your hair and back as he thought. Truthfully, there were plenty of things he wished he could change about his past. It would take him less than a minute to come up with a list longer than most people could muster in a lifetime. He had wasted so many years of his life, bitter and remorseful about the things he had done, condemning himself to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet, somehow, despite all of the things he could have said, out of all the painful things he wished he could go back in time to change, there was one answer that prevailed above all the rest, an answer that couldn’t have been easier to choose.  

“I wish there was a world where I would have met you sooner. That I would have gotten to love you just a little longer.” 

He waited for your response, settling into the silence until it was broken by one of your soft snores humming against his thigh, signaling to him you were sound asleep in his lap, not having heard a word you said. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the first night he had stayed at your apartment, and how it had ended just like this, conversation flowing until the early hours of the morning until you couldn’t fight sleep any longer, eyelids shutting as you fell asleep in his arms. How he watched you gently drift to dreaming, wondering if he was, too. That somehow, some way, the world had managed to bring the two of you together. And even if he wished he would have gotten more time to love you before you’d met, Javi knew that he’d be forever grateful for every minute he had left with you. 

Despite the raging hangover the two of you had the next morning after you woke up from your alcohol and pizza induced coma, the rest of your honeymoon had been some of the most fun that the two of you had had in years. You’d spent multiple days at the pool, soaking up sun on the beach and swimming in the ocean, eaten so much delicious food you were convinced you were going to combust, drank more mojitos than you’d like to admit, and had even gone snorkeling on a tour through some of the islands outside your resort. 

You also had been having so much sex, you were starting to feel bad for the rooms on either side of you. 

Everything about your honeymoon had been everything you’d ever hoped for and more, but with only one full day left of your vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that your perfect trip to tropical paradise was coming to a close. 

“What’s that look for, porbrecita?” Javi laughed, sneaking up behind you on the edge of the balcony, watching you watch the sunrise with your cheeks propped up in your palms, pouting at the way bright pinks and oranges were greeting the sky. Standing behind you, he snaked his arms around your front so he could bring your back to his chest, kissing the top of your head while his arms settled around your middle. 

“I don’t want our honeymoon to end.” You sighed, craning your neck just enough to look at Javi over your shoulder, “I’m sad it’s gonna be over.” 

“I know, mi amor, me too.” He softly chuckled, planting a long kiss on your cheek, the whiskers of his mustache making you giggle, “But what if I told you I have one more surprise for us before we go home tomorrow?” 

This made you swing all the way around, now chest to chest with Javi as you looked up at him in confusion, “What? I thought we were spending our last day on the beach just hanging out?” 

“Well we are, but what if I told you I rented one of those fancy cabanas at the end of the beach for us to use to celebrate our last day here?” Javi smirked, watching your face light up at his proposition. 

“Wait, actually?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

“But aren’t they like, super expensive to rent for the day?” 

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.” 

“Okay, the pause tells me that you spent way more money than you needed to on this, Jav.” 

“And what if it was? I’m not allowed to wanna spoil my wife on our honeymoon?” Javi grinned, gently cupping your face and playfully shaking it, making you laugh again. 

“Your wife doesn’t need to be spoiled, just getting to be here with you is more than enough.” You paused, giving Javi a little nudge as he dramatically rolled his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “What, you goof?” 

“I hope you know that because you’re my wife, I’m planning on spending the rest of my life spoiling you, whether you like it or not. I’d give you the fucking moon if I could, Osita.” 

“Well lucky for you, a day at a beach cabana will do just fine.” 

While you never would have asked Javi to purposely spend extra money on things you really didn’t need to make your trip any more special than it already was, you couldn’t deny that spending the day in your own private cove of the beach in a luxurious cabana with food and drinks being served to you at your request wasn’t a bad way to spend the last day of your honeymoon. 

The daybeds in the cabana had made a perfect place for a shady, mid day nap for the both of you, lazily waking up from the soft kiss Javi had planted on your shoulder, exposed from your bikini top, freckled and sunkissed from days in the tropics. 

“I’m gonna go for a swim, Hermosa. Be back in a sec.” Javi cooed, gently stirring you from your catnap. 

“Mmmmmmkay.” You smiled, flipping over for another kiss on the lips before Javi slipped out from the flaps of your tent, softly blowing in the breeze. You sat up on your lounger, the sight of Javi in nothing but his bathing suit waking you from your brief sleep in a matter of moments. 

Even though you had seen Javi in nothing but bathing suits for the past 9 days, you were convinced it was a sight you’d never find yourself getting over. There was no doubt that you had always found him incredibly attractive, but something about this trip had skyrocketed him to another level of sexy you didn’t even know was attainable. You weren’t sure if it was the unbuttoned floral shirts, excessive time spent shirtless, his messy and wet beach hair, or just the fact that now you got to call him your husband- truthfully, it was most likely a combination of all of the above. 

You perked up, pulling back the fabric door of the cabana enough to watch Javi’s arms stroke through the ocean, popping his head above water with a brief shake before he was shallow enough to touch the sandy bottom again. As he sauntered in from the ocean, you couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and chest, glistening from the sun and salty water. You let your gaze travel down to his swim trunks, feeling your mouth water at the way they hugged his waist and crept up his thick thighs. With each step closer to shore, you couldn’t stop staring at the way his trunks were clinging to his lower half, perfectly outlining his generous length. 

Javi must have noticed the way you were staring at him by the subtle smirk that had broken out across his face as he approached the cabana, eyeing you up and down right back. 

“You have a good swim?” You asked, feeling your stomach swirl as you took in every inch of him, glowing in the sunlight. 

“Mhmm. Did you have fun watching me swim?” He teased, tongue tracing over his teeth while he raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well the effect he was having on you. 

“Maybe. What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view? Not my fault my husband is so handsome.” Your smirk was almost as wide as his, biting down on your bottom lip as Javi entered the cabana, letting the flap to the entrance close behind him before caging your body under his on the lounge chair, trailing hot, wet, kisses across your chest and stomach. 

“Say it again.” He mewled, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes as his kisses trailed lower and lower, watching as he began to settle himself at the edge of the chair between your thighs. 

“My husband is so handsome. You’re so handsome, Javi.” You sighed, feeling the damp patch in your swimsuit bottoms growing, soaking the fabric with your slick and arousal. 

“You’re so fucking good to me. Fuck, I’m so lucky.” He groaned, slinging your thighs over his shoulders, eyes still locked on you while he began to tug at the strings of your bikini, leaving your bottom half bare. 

There was a part of you that knew you should be worried about someone catching the two of you, barely concealed by the flimsy confines of your cabana, but the part of you staring at your husband between your legs about to eat you out seemed a lot more convinced that this was the best idea Javi had all day. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. I’m the goddamn luckiest man alive, you know that baby?” 

Your response to his question was nothing but a ragged moan, feeling him draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat. He curled his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved.

His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his damp, curly locks to brace yourself as he ate you out relentlessly.

“Oh my god, fuck, Javi. Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck-” 

You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him. 

“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” Your fingers were buried so deep in his curls, tugging just enough to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release. 

His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached up to grab your hand laying out on the lounge chair, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you came, losing all sense of inhibitions as you cried out with a volume much louder than intended. 

But with Javi’s fingers still curled, prodding against your g-spot, you had a feeling those cries weren’t coming to a halt any time soon. It was only moments after your orgasm had finished he was already on a mission to give you another, tongue lapping up every ounce of your slick as it pressed against your clit. 

“Javi, holy shit, baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. 

Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. 

You could already feel the tingling of your next orgasm beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, greedy for him to help you hit your second high. 

“Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body again, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you. 

Your legs were all but jello at this point, trembling around Javi’s head, still buried between them. Your last two orgasms had been so intense, you weren’t sure you could take a third, but with the way Javi knew your body, you also were convinced it would barely take anything for you to cum again. 

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”   

“Gimme one more, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna make my wife cum one more time.” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm. 

Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that the grip you had on his hand had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s fingers.  

“That’s my good girl. My perfect fucking wife. I love you so much.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick, bringing the digits to his fingers to suck them clean with a satisfied smirk. 

It was only moments before his sly grin had quickly shifted to full blown panic, you, still too blissed out to wonder why he was scrambling to throw a towel over your bottom half and one to hide the erection under his as he sat himself in the chair next to you. Thank god Javi still at least had an ounce of inhibition left to see the footsteps of the server who had been periodically checking in on you strolling their way through the sand under the edge of the cabana, saving you both from what could have been an incredible amount of embarrassment. 

“Hi, how are you two doing? Anything else I can get for you right now?” Your server asked, peeking his head in through the flaps to see you and Javi trying your best to act as natural as possible. 

“N-no, I’m good. You good, honey? Need anything?” Javi asked, looking over at you as his hand ran over the back of his neck, trying his best not to grimace at the awkward tension stewing between him, you and your poor, unsuspecting server. 

“You know what, I think I’m gonna have another drink.” 

“Alright! Another mojito for you, ma’am?” Your server asked, whipping out his pad of paper to note down your order. 

“No, can you make this next one a Sex on the Beach? That sounds really good.” 

It truly took everything in Javi not to burst out laughing, choking on his own spit at your perfectly timed order, shaking his head at you in a humorous disbelief. 

“Perfect, well I’ll be right back with your drink!” 

“Thank you so much!” 

Once your server had disappeared, you and Javi erupted in hyena like laughter, the combination of your joke and almost fatal timing throwing the two of you into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Javi chuckled, looking over at you as he shook his head. 

“What? It’s our last day, figured we might as well have a little sex on the beach. The drink sounds like it’ll be good, too.” 

Your mid-afternoon flight had made for an easy morning to pack up and soak in the last little bit of your honeymoon. It had given you just enough time to enjoy your favorite breakfast place, and have one more of the best blueberry waffles you’d ever tasted before your last shower (and shower sex) to get ready for your departure home. 

While you were sad your vacation had come to an end, there was no denying that every last bit of your trip was absolutely perfect, and even more so that you got to spend it with the most perfect person you could think of. You were convinced you could have gone anywhere in the world for your honeymoon and you would have felt the same- in the end, it wasn’t the destination that mattered, it was the fact you got to spend it with your husband. 

The fact that you got to spend every vacation together for the rest of your lives only made it that much sweeter. 

While flying would never be enjoyable, you were thankful your trip home was fairly painless, granting Javi’s hand some grace, considering you didn’t feel the need to keep it in an iron grip for the two hours it took you to arrive back home. 

You were also thankful that it was Steve and Connie who had offered to pick you up from the airport instead of Chucho, sparing you and Javi the same sort of awkward embarrassment you had endured on the ride to start off your honeymoon. 

Well, it may not been the same kind of embarrassment that you had experienced with Javi’s dad, but it was foolish of you to think that Steve was letting you get away scott free. 

At least he had managed to get creative with it, making a greeting poster with “Welcome home, lovebirds!” on it to help you find him and Connie in the airport crowd, making Javi let out a sigh loud enough that Steve probably could have heard it from the tarmac. 

“Hey! There they are! Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Steve grinned, pulling you and Javi in for a hug as you found him, Connie following suit with a much less dramatic greeting for the both of you afterwards. 

“How was the honeymoon? Did you guys have a great time?” Connie asked, offering to take one of your suitcases, nudging Steve to do the same. “ 

“It was really nice. It was everything we could have hoped for. The resort was beautiful, the food was great, and the weather was fantastic. It really was perfect.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, nodding in agreement, reaching out to wrap his arm over your shoulder. 

“Thanks again for picking us up.” Javi chimed in, the two of you now following along behind your friends as they began leading you through the airport towards their car. 

“Don’t mention it, Jav. Least we could do.” Steve replied, reaching out to give Javi a little punch to the arm. 

“We’re super excited to hear all about your trip!” Connie added, looking back at you and Javi with a genuine grin. 

“Excited to hear if I’m gonna make good on my bet…” Steve muttered, laughing under his breath. 

“Steve! Seriously? You promised in the car you weren’t gonna bring this up!” Connie huffed, giving her husband a slap to the chest, and a grimace that clearly was the silent way to ask “Will you please shut up?” 

“What?! I put good money on it, I’m confident!” 

“Wait, is this the same bet that Javi’s dad was talking about on the way here?” You asked, looking back and forth between Javi, Steve and Connie in confusion, perplexed as to what you and Javi had to do with whatever bet he and the Murphy’s were in on. 

“Go ahead, Steve! Why don’t you explain?” Connie scolded, hands on her hips as she stared down her husband in all his big mouthed glory. 

“You bet on it, too!” Steve retorted, holding his hands up in defense, pointing at Connie to claim her as part of the guilty party to whatever was going on.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, trying to cut to the chase of whatever cryptic game they were playing. 

“After y’all left on your wedding night, we- shit, this does sound kinda bad when you say it to their face, huh?” Steve paused, letting out a huff as he turned back to Connie, grimacing in agreement, “Us and your family and your dad made a bet.” 

“A bet on…” You led, waiting for your answer. 

Steve sighed again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground before looking back up at you and Javi, “A bet on how quick it would take after the wedding until the two of you announced you were pregnant.” 

You didn’t even want to know how red your face was turning, but judging by the sudden pink flush of Javi’s cheeks, you had no doubt you looked exactly the same, if not worse. 

“To be fair, your dad was the one who started it!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at Javi to let him know he wasn’t to blame for his friend’s embarrassment before shifting his finger to point at you, “And your brothers were the one who said we should make it a bet! I just wanted in on it!” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Javi sighed, face in his palm as he rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. 

“I hope now you know we’re not gonna have kids just to spite all of you.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilted your head at Steve. It was enough to catch Javi’s attention, eyes going wide that there was even a shred of you being serious, laughing to yourself as you watched the relief flush over him when you shook your head at your own joke. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Steve chuckled, his voice oozing with sarcasm, simply shrugging before turning back around to continue your journey to the parking garage. 

Javi took his free hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you trailed behind the Murphy’s soft smile on his face that despite his friends and families bet revolved around your sex life, there was a very real possibility that sooner rather than later, someone was bound to make their fifty bucks. 

“What’d you bet?” Javi asked, feeling entitled to know how Steve had gambled after he’d spilled the beans on his little wager. 

“Well, let’s see, y’all got married at the end of July, so July to August, August to September,” Steve paused, doing the quick math on his fingers as he calculated his answer, “9 months from now would be April, so I’ll be damned if you’re not tellin’ us your havin’ a baby by the fall and it’s here by the spring. And I know for a fact neither of y’all would be mad about that one bit.” 

And as much as you both hated to admit it, it was one of the few things in life that Steve Murphy was very, very right about. 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle

@the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper

@nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

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@burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[frantic-fiction]

Beg 18+

Pic Credit: astarionposting

Astarion x F!reader

Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.

Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist

"There you are, darling,"

Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing. 

You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.

Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?" 

His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"

You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.

"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."

You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.

Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"

Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails. 

"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."

Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire. 

Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air. 

After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.

Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.

Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."

For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.

"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be." 

"You're stalling," you accuse.

"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.

Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.

The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."

Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.

"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?" 

"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."

His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest. 

"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides. 

"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."

Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."

How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn. 

"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.

"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you. 

"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.

"Are you serious?"

You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.

"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing. 

Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.

"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.

"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."

You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."

"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."

Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."

Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.

"You are a cruel woman." 

With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.

"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.

You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric. 

Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting. 

You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.

"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later. 

You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair. 

"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"

"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips. 

"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"

"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."

Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.

"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good." 

"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."

"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.

Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.

He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."

One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.

Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.

"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing." 

Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."

"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."

"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"

"At least remove your trousers!"

"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion." 

Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.

Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.

"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."

"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.

"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?" 

"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt. 

"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob. 

This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"

Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest. 

"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him. 

"Astarion, fuck!" 

A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them. 

A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.

You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!" 

Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue. 

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure. 

"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."

"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"

Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips. 

Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close." 

Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later. 

"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close. 

The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much. 

Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body. 

This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.

With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs. 

"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words. 

"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.

"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."

"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."

"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.

"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?" 

Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.

"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you." 

Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see. 

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on." 

The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.

Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!

Taglist

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[stariikis]

ni-ki as your study date •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

synopsis ; the price you paid for choosing an athletic boyfriend over an academic one? no practical help when you're drowning in mysterious equations and symbols. but at least he's good at comforting the perfectionist in you.

pairing ; athletic!nishimura riki x academic achiever!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 802 warnings n notes ; dear readers, these two are mentally suffering because one doesn't care and the other cares too much! trigger warning, bio phys chem and math mentioned..

“-And during PE we played badminton, and Jake hyung was soooo bad today. He kept trying to smash but missed the shuttlecock.” Beside you, with his “I-swear-I’ll-finish-three-chapters-today” Physics textbook hardly opened to the first page, Riki doesn’t stop rambling about the various sports he’s played today. You’ve heard enough about the goals he scored during an impromptu morning game of football. The way his best friend fumbled during a badminton match. How his legs ache from standing in the sun for hours during baseball training. You’re about to tug him out the cafe by his jersey. 

“Are you going to start your notes or what?” You shove him with a lighthearted tone, barely concealing the exasperation behind your words. “All that talk about wanting to finally get an A but you still keep yapping. About sports, no less.” 

Riki rolls his eyes and mock-salutes in your direction. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Taking a sip of your matcha latte, you sigh resolutely and return to examine various electronic configurations. Perhaps now, Riki will leave you in peace… 

Only five minutes later, you’re snapped out of focus with a sheepish nudge. 

“What’s a moment…” “OH my days Nishimura Riki how can you not know what a moment is that’s like basic physics you’re supposed to have known that since we started chapter TWO.” 

Shrinking under your scoldings, he glances back at his textbook, reads the definition and looks back towards you. “I don’t get it.” 

With another heavy sigh, you scoot closer and attempt to explain as simply as you possibly can. However, he’s deliberately distracting you, with playful caresses through your hair and touches of kisses as smooth as silk on your cheek. You’ve got to be turning a beetroot red, but you ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and continue on. 

“Now repeat what I just said to you.” Refusing to give in to his silly antics, you cross your arms and lean back. Swiping the hair his fingers touched, not too long ago, out the way. 

He pouts, knowing him acting cute is your soft spot. “That’s not fair.” 

“Why?” You press, but relent and hunch back over your notes. “You know what, just focus on relearning your balanced forces. Do you remember what the principles of moments even is?” Oh wait, he doesn’t even know what a moment is. The way he blinks once at his textbook and blinks twice your way proves this. 

“At this point, I’m not dead, you’re more cooked than I am. And I am cooked.” 

Gasping scandalously, he whisper shouts, “You’re literally my academic goal, what are you on? I wish I had the motivation you did. Okay, more like I wish I had your grades, but we both know that’s not happening.” 

He gestures to all the bruises he’s obtained over the past week, scratches and wounds that demonstrate how dedicated he is to all the sports he partakes in. They’re his own personal souveniers. Although most fade quickly, some leave scars burning in his skin, but he’s proud of them all even when you express your concern for him. 

He’s always been like that. Dismissive of concerning matters because he enjoys showing people how strong he is. Internally and externally. The complete opposite of him, one Maths question you get wrong and you start questioning the very bane of your existence. 

You fall into silence, looking back at your notes. You have lost track of where Chemistry starts and ends, your paper copy of the periodic table crumpled and defaced from your bursts of frustration. You may not show it, but there’s so much going on in your head it’s hard to escape the fog you’ve mentally put yourself in. With the crazy STEM course you’ve chosen, you know that you’re definitely on the train tracks with a sign pointing towards a crash site. 

Either you shut yourself out and pass with flying colours, or you enjoy life and fail miserably. There’s no in between. Is it so hard to want to maintain a social life and a healthy relationship, while topping your class and achieving high honours? Perhaps it is. 

Noticing your sudden stillness, Riki panics. “You’re stressing out again. Why are you stressing out again? You’re doing well. Well, compared to me. Should I just do bio? Things with numbers are always complicated..” 

You laugh as he looks back at his noteless textbook. 

“Anyway, I think you’re doing just fine.” Riki murmurs, massaging your back with his hand. “Don’t overwork yourself and you’ll be fine. Just like you were, and always will be. Do you want me to test you?” 

“That’d be nice…” You smile, watching his eyes light up a little too eagerly when he closes his textbook. “But you’re just saying that so you don’t have to study anymore, right?”

how life be feeling rn, send prayers

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Prologue: Before It All —jjk.

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❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 + explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, these two really do hate each other ❥chapter warnings: Fighting (verbal), swearing, mutual hate ❥word-count: 2.4k ❥Series Masterlist ❥ || Next Chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list

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Your final together was tomorrow, after a month of painfully hard work it would finally be over. Except you hadn’t heard from Jungkook  this week at all. From what you can tell he seemed to finish all of his portion of the work. You on the other hand, due to some finals, were a little behind but you had no doubts that you would be able to catch up. 

Not hearing from Jungkook did have you somewhat concerned. 

You both were normal last week but this week radio silence. You had texted him just keeping him updated on the progress of your work. You choked it up to him probably being swamped with his own work, and his own projects for other classes. So you tried not too worry. 

You sent one more text, anxiety rising with each passing minute.

:hey sorry to text you again. I’m just checking in! I should be able to finish in the next hour or two, so don’t worry.

:we are going to kill this presentation in the morning.

May have been a touch late to texting someone, it was 1:30 in the morning. You didn’t care though, he had texted you at like two in the morning before. So, you figured he’d forgive you.

But the second you sent the text.

The lights and your laptop had switched off. You sat in completely darkness. Suddenly the emergency lights shown by your door. You turned on your flashlight. Your laptop was old so your power being out means that you don’t have a laptop to work on. You made your way to the hall where some others had gathered. Asking what had happened.

Your RA eventually came up to your floor and told everyone not to worry, they were going to have the power on soon and to stay in our rooms for now. That we would get some text updates. You decided to not panic yet, soon after you did get a text saying that their was a an on campus outage and the problem would be resolved soon.

“Seriously?” you muttered, going back into your room. You texted Jungkook again.

:hey sorry I swear this is the last one, power in my dorm is out.

:and you know how my laptop is, so I have to wait until the power comes back.

:still going to kill it tomorrow!

Forty-five agonizing minutes later, the power finally returned. You rushed back to your laptop, praying everything was still there. But when you opened your document, it was blank. Completely empty.

“No,” you whispered, frantically searching for any backup.

Your entire month of work was gone. You tried finding a previous version, but there was nothing. Not on your hard drive, not in your email, not even a single backup copy. Every word, every citation, every carefully crafted paragraph—vanished. Except... Jungkook might have a copy.

You grabbed your phone and called him, your fingers trembling. Voicemail. You called again, and it rang once before going straight to voicemail again.

“Jungkook, pick up. Something happened. I need you to call me back.”

Panic set in as you scoured every corner of your computer. Desperate, you even checked old drafts and random notes on your phone, but there was nothing. Your heart sank. You called Jungkook two more times, but there was still no answer.

You were going to have to start over.

You knew the material—you’d been working on it every day for a month—but rewriting it from memory was going to be a nightmare. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and started typing. Every minute felt like an hour, but you pushed through. Tiredness clawed at you, and your eyes stung from the screen’s glare, but there was no other option.

Five hours later, you finally finished. The paper was nowhere near perfect, but it was something. A B, maybe a C at best, but it was better than nothing. Exhaustion overtook you the second you hit save, and you collapsed into bed.

It felt like only a second had passed when your eyes snapped open. You scrambled for your phone, the panic setting in again.

10:05 AM.

Ten missed texts and three missed calls from Jungkook.

“No!” You leapt out of bed, pulling on the first clothes you found, emailing the paper to yourself while sprinting out the door. You raced across campus, nearly tripping as you weaved through students, your breath burning in your lungs. By the time you reached the classroom, the hallway was filled with students leaving.

You pushed through the door, your hair a mess, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Shit, no, no, please.” You spotted your professor leaving and tried to push your way forward, only to be blocked by Jungkook.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” he sneered as you stumbled in, breathless and disheveled.

“Jungkook--” you began, but he cut you off.

“Where the hell have you been? Why weren’t you here?” His voice was icy, and he took a menacing step toward you, making you step back.

“I—I fell asleep!” You stammered, tears welling up. Your exhaustion was really hitting you, and you couldn’t hold them in, “Did you see my texts? My calls? My voicemails?”

“Texts and calls don’t mean shit if you’re not here!” he snapped. “You’re acting like you care, but you clearly don’t. You’ve been flaky this entire time.”

“Jungkook, that’s not fair—”

“Not fair?” he cut in, voice rising. “Maybe you did this on purpose! Maybe you’ve been plotting to screw me over!”

The accusation hit hard. “Are you seriously accusing me of sabotaging you? I’ve worked my ass off for this project!”

Jungkook’s eyes were cold. “And where were you when it mattered? You think your excuses are enough? Friends don’t disappear.”

The recent reconciliation between the both of you now dissolving on the ground between the both of you. You both had taken huge strides to become friends despite your resistance.

“Friends don’t accuse each other of being petty schemers!” you shot back, the anger surging. “I’ve been working all night to fix this, and you’re just throwing all my effort back in my face!”

“Maybe I’m tired of your games,” Jungkook retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. “Maybe David was right about you. Maybe he was right that this is something you do.”

David, your ex-boyfriend. Who had manipulated so many people into believing that you were crazy, when he had cheated on you multiple times. What hurt worse? Jungkook knew all of this, knew that David was an asshole. Knew that David was an awful person who lied every time he spoke.

Now he was throwing it in your face, what the hell was wrong with him?

The sting of his words was unbearable. “How dare you! I trusted you to be reasonable. You said you believed me when it came to what David said about me. How dare you throw that in my face! I came here ready to explain, ready to make things right. But you’re too busy being a jackass to listen.”

“I may be a jackass but at least I can be relied upon.” he said quietly, almost dismissively.

The words cut deeper than any knife. “You know what? I don’t need to defend myself to someone who’s already made up their mind. You’re not worth the effort, since you are so quick to blame others. You’re just like David after all.”

You turned away, feeling tears spill down your face. You walked away, not looking back. You had to save your grades, even if it meant cutting ties with Jungkook for good. Didn’t really matter, you two didn’t know each other that well anyways.

You found your professor, explained everything through your tears, and showed him the evidence. He listened, though his sympathy couldn’t override the rules. He allowed you to submit your rewritten paper but couldn’t let you do the presentation. He promised to grade fairly but couldn’t guarantee a good mark.

You received a D. It was lower than you hoped but enough to pass. Jungkook, however, failed, delaying his graduation.

You felt a grim satisfaction, but the bitterness lingered. The loss of the friendship gnawed at you, even if you hated him. You’d never see him again, and you were more than okay with that.

That was five years ago now.

The memory lingered as fresh and raw as ever. You had moved on, grown, and carved out a space where Jungkook’s existence didn’t matter. That was until you became friends with Melanie, who in every sense of the word was your best friend. Though, because fate is a funny thing, she fell in love with Namjoon. Namjoon’s closest friend was none other than Jungkook.

That relationship kept you and Jungkook in each other's lives for longer than either of you had cared for.

Forcing the two of you back into each other’s orbit. That also meant facing Jungkook repeatedly, each time resulting in fights so venomous you wondered how Melanie and Namjoon put up with it. So many clashes over so many years, so many attempts by mutual friends proved futile in bringing the both of you together. Eventually, everyone gave up and just made sure to never have the two of you in a room together.

Now with Namjoon and Melanie’s engagement, a wedding loomed around the corner.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, mind still reeling from the past. The fallout from that final class had changed everything. Every time you saw Jungkook since then, it was an instant—words turned to daggers, and every conversation became a battlefield. Neither of you ever backed down; pride kept you both locked in a bitter stalemate.

“Just a heads-up,” Melanie said, breaking you out of your thoughts. She hesitated, eyes flicking away as if bracing for impact. “I know how you two feel about each other, but he’s Namjoon’s best friend.”

You knew what was coming, but you still grimaced. “Don’t tell me.”

Melanie sighed. “Jungkook is his best man.”

You clenched your jaw, the anger bubbling up instantly. You had known this was inevitable, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “Of course, he is.”

Melanie’s living room felt unusually tense, the soft glow of the evening sun doing little to warm the atmosphere. Melanie had always been the bridge between you and Jungkook—constantly trying to keep the peace, but it was becoming increasingly clear that this time was different. You couldn’t just show up, exchange a few biting remarks with Jungkook, and call it a day. This was her wedding. This was the culmination of everything she’d dreamed of, and she deserved your best effort.

Melanie took a deep breath, her stern expression softening just slightly. “I know it’s a big ask, and I wouldn’t push it if I didn’t have to. But Namjoon and Jungkook—they’ve been through so much together. He’s not just a friend to Namjoon; he’s like a brother. And I need you both to make this work.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. Melanie was trying to keep the peace, but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. She had seen you and Jungkook tear each other down time and again. Seeing the tears you shed over the times he would hit the nail on the head, and say something that went too far. Held you back from starting a physical altercation with him.

Each encounter was more bitter than the last, and every argument chipped away at the thin veneer of civility you both clung to.

“I promise,” you said, your voice steady despite the resentment simmering underneath. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Melanie’s lips twitched into a small smile, but her eyes remained cautious. “Thank you. And I mean it, no half-hearted attempts. I need rainbows and kindness coming out of both of your asses.”

You laughed despite yourself, appreciating the way Melanie could still inject humor into even the most awkward of situations. “Got it. Rainbows and kindness. I’ll bring a whole damn unicorn if that’s what it takes.”

“Good, I don’t know what I would do if we had another new years situation.” Although it was years ago, that was probably the worst fight you and Jungkook had. The things that were said and the drink you dumped on him are very present in your mind. Made you laugh to yourself even but it definitely caused a bot of an issues in your group.

You shook your head, feeling a familiar pang of bitterness. “Yeah that was a really low moment for me. I think because of that things between us will never change. He’s still that same arrogant jerk who can’t own up to his mistakes. And I’m done pretending I care enough to fix anything.”

“People change,” she said softly, it was something she tried to convince you of many times. “But I get it. You don’t have to be friends—you just have to coexist.”

“That, I can do,” you said firmly. “I’m not going to let him ruin this for you.”

“Thank you,” Melanie said, squeezing your hand. “I’m so happy you accepted the role. I couldn’t imagine my wedding without you there.”

“For you? Anything,” you replied, your resolve hardening. You would hold onto your promise to Melanie, no matter how much Jungkook got under your skin. This wedding was about Namjoon and Melanie, not you and whatever animosity you harbored toward Jungkook.

The room lapsed into a comfortable silence, but your mind was racing, already plotting ways to avoid Jungkook’s inevitable provocations. You pictured the rehearsal dinner, the ceremony, the reception—any scenario where the two of you would be forced to interact. You would keep your distance, smile politely, and not engage. If Jungkook’s presence was like a storm cloud threatening to ruin the day, you would be calm. You owed Melanie that much.

“When the wedding rolls around, I’ll keep up appearances and be civil and kind,” you said, trying to reassure not just Melanie, but yourself. “Jungkook might be the spawn of Satan, but as long as I don’t speak to him directly, everything will go perfectly.”

No amount of promises could erase the deep-seated anger you felt every time you saw his face. This time, though, you would have to bury it, if only for a weekend. You would smile through gritted teeth, hold your tongue when he inevitably said something infuriating, and pretend you were above it all.

You had months to prep yourself though. Plenty of time to make sure that nothing Jungkook could do could piss you off.

Nothing that weekend will surprise you.

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❥ || Next Chapter

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[willalove75]

I swear I'm almost done with the next chapter of Alcina's New Maid but domestic!Alcina has had me in a fucking chokehold and I need to braindump this so I can move on😅

Tags: smut, tooth-rotting fluff, idk I think that's it if I missed anything lmk it's 3am and I'm exhausted lmao

Warnings: None.

A/N: I finished this at 3am and didn't proof-read it so please kindly ignore any errors. Maybe I'll edit this tomorrow, maybe not. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

18+ Only Minors DNI

"I thought I told you to stay still." Alcina growls in your ear.

"You're taking so long!" You say with a groan, throwing your head back into the pillows.

"Shh." She says as she kisses up and down the side of your neck. "Let me enjoy being buried inside of you."

"Alcinaaa." You whine. "It's not even a real dick! You're just torturing me!"

"I'm imagining what it would feel like if it were real, my love. Your warm, wet cunt clenching around me, my hard cock throbbing deep inside of you." She says, dragging her teeth along your earlobe.

You whine out in protest once more, desperate for her to make any kind of movement. In defiance, you try and rock your hips into her but she stops you, grabbing hold of you and pushing them back down into the bed.

"Fine, I'll just pull all the way out then and we can go downstairs and watch a movie instead." She says as she begins to pull her hips away from yours.

"No!" You shout, crossing your ankles behind her hips and pulling her back into place. She falls back into you without putting up a fight, a knowing smirk crossing her lips as you wrap your arms around her neck so your bodies are flush against one another.

"So needy." She murmurs as she kisses along your jawline.

"For you? Always." Alcina smirks into your skin and continues to kiss every inch. "Please, just stop torturing me!"

"And what if I want to fuck you into the mattress? Or blow your back out?" She asks, nibbling on your neck causing your eyes to flutter shut.

"Yes! Please, anything!"

"What if I want to fuck you softly and just make love to you all night long?"

"You can have me any way you want me baby, just please fuck me!" You say as she lifts her head and looks into your eyes. A glint of excitement shimmering in her gorgeous grey irises.

"Any way?" She asks and you nod your head in response, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. "Mm, that's a dangerous promise draga mea. You spoil me."

"No more than you spoil me." You say before she presses her lips into yours.

Threading your fingers in her hair, you deepen the kiss as you pull her closer. Alcina leans down onto her forearms and slides her hands under your shoulders, pressing you further into her. Her tongue caresses your lips and you part them, eagerly inviting her into your mouth.

While she has you distracted with her skillful tongue she begins to rock her hips, causing you to sigh a moan of relief into her mouth. Thrusting at a steady pace, you keep your legs locked around her; the need to keep her as close as possible is just as strong as the need for her to fuck you.

Alcina pulls her lips from yours before you both run out of oxygen, the two of you gasping for air. Her hot breath comes out in pants against your skin and she buries her face into your neck before picking up the pace, fucking you faster and harder. The long strap sinks deeper into you as you roll your hips to meet each one of her delicious thrusts, causing both of you to moan. Each time you meet her thrust the back of the strap grinds against her clit and presses perfectly into your g-spot.

After one perfectly timed roll of your hips you hear Alcina moan into your shoulder and you let out a huff of pride.

"What?" She asks as she continues pounding into you.

"Nothing, I'm just glad you're enjoying this as much as I am." You say between pants.

"Mm, I always enjoy you, dragostea mea."

Sex with Alcina has always been mind-blowing, ever since the first time you slept together. Before you met you had your fair share of lovers, but you never felt such passion, such intense pleasure with anyone until her. From the very first date it felt like she put you under a spell. Never before have you met someone so alluring, so beautiful, someone who made things seem so impossibly easy. You had promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't sleep with anyone on the first few dates; but with Alcina, you found yourself tangled with her in her silk bedsheets only after the second date. The two of you pulled countless orgasms from each other all night long and to your surprise, instead of her kicking you out when it was over, she invited you into her shower and pulled you back into bed with her to stay the night. Part of you wanted to turn down her offer, fearful that you would wake up in this near-strangers home alone the next morning. But you saw the look in her eyes, the way she gently took her bottom lip between her teeth, looking almost bashful and all thoughts of turning her down fled your mind. So with her arms tightly wrapped around you, the two of you fell into a deep sleep.

When you woke up the next morning you were almost uncomfortably cold. It was then you realized it was because Alcina stole almost all of the covers, leaving you with just the corner of the bedsheet for warmth. As gently as you could, (it took more effort than you were expecting), you pried the comforter from her and curled into her warm body. She responded with a groan and a slight shiver, mumbling out "you're cold." in her half-asleep state.

"Well you did steal all the covers." You replied.

Alcina chuckled and rolled over to face you, with half-lidded eyes she held out her arms towards you, encouraging you into them.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled. "Come, let me help you warm up."

The two of you were almost hesitant towards the amount of intimacy you were showing each other so soon, but you curled into her and she wrapped her arms around you anyway. She jerked when your cold hands rested against her back and you immediately pulled them away with an apology. Taking your cold hands into hers, she held them in one of her large hands close to her chest while she brushed your hair out of your face with the other before threading her fingers through and resting it at the back of your head. Her legs found yours under the covers and she began to tangle them together, jerking once more when your ice cold feet met her skin.

Mumbling another apology, she shook her head at you and responded "no need for apologies, it is my fault after all. What a terrible host I am, leaving you to freeze in my bed. I should have warned you, I have a habit of being a cover hog."

Her morning voice was deeper and raspier than usual, as attractive as it was (and it was attractive) you also found it comforting. It was something you could listen to all day and never get bored of.

"It's alright, you seem to be making up for it now." You say as the two of you snuggle into each other.

"I could also make it up to you in other ways as well." She says, a smirk evident in her voice.

"I also wouldn't be opposed to that." You say, gazing into her sleepy, lust-filled eyes.

Alcina softly kisses you and rests her chin on top of your head.

"More sleep first, repayment later."

As you fell back asleep in her arms, you realized that you could wake up like this every morning for the rest of your life and never want anything else. At first the thought terrified you, you had only met this woman one other time, how delusional were you to think something like that? You did your best to push it out of your mind for as long as possible. However, every time you saw each other, every time you spoke, the word "love" always seemed to be lurking close by. It wasn't until months after you made your relationship official did you find out that on that particular morning, the same thought crossed Alcina's mind too.

That second date was years ago now, since then the two of you got married and you gave birth to your three beautiful daughters. Much to your delight, the passion between the two of you never faded - if anything, the fire burned brighter over time. Of course there were fights and disagreements, but the love you two shared always outweighed the bad. And the sex? Forget it. Once you had a taste of her you never needed anything from anyone else ever again. It was passionate, hard, rough, experimental at times, it was beautiful and full of love and no matter what direction it went in, there was always room for a little laughter and playfulness. It was something you've never had before and you cherished it more than anything.

Never in your life could you have imagined loving someone as much as you love Alcina. The thought could make your heart burst.

Hot kisses across your jaw and cheek accompanied by a deep, hard thrust brought you back into the moment. A low moan pulled from your lips.

"Where did you go there, draga?" Alcina asks with a husky voice.

She pulls back to look you in the eyes, examining your face to make sure you're okay. Her thrusts didn't falter, but you saw the concern in her eyes and the little crinkle that formed between her eyebrows when she was worried. Her grey-blue eyes shimmered and she nearly took your breath away.

Your lips parted but no words came out, your chest filling with love for the woman on top of you. Her hips began to slow and you held her tighter against you, silently encouraging her to continue.

"I - I was just thinking about how much I love you. How grateful I am for you." Pulling her closer, you brush your lips against hers. "I love you, Alcina. With everything I have."

Alcina's breath hitches in her chest and you can feel the stutter against yours. Pulling her down, your lips nearly crash together and both of your hips pick up the pace as they grind against each other. Her nails bury themselves into your shoulder blades while you reach down and grab her ass with one hand, pushing her deeper into you, and grab hold of the hair on the back of her head with the other.

The two of you swallow each others moans before parting for air again, panting and whimpering into each other as you both race to the edge.

"I love you, draga mea. I love you so much." She whimpers into your ear as you two continue to fuck each other.

Each time one of you moans a little too loudly the other one tries to shush you, fearful that your daughters will hear the unsavory noises coming from the bedroom. Your bodies glide along each other as a layer of sweat develops between you, which only spurs you both on more. Your ankles uncross to allow harder thrusts from Alcina, but you squeeze her hips between your thighs to keep her as close as possible.

Her groans rumble deep in her chest while your whimpers get higher, signaling to each other that you're both getting close.

"Fuck, Alcina, just like that."

"You're gonna make me come. I know how close you are, aren't you?" She asks, to which you respond with only a whimper. "Mph, fuck yes, I want you to come with me baby."

"Yes, oh god yes!"

Both of your movements become less calculated and more frantic, desperate to push each other over the edge. The orgasm you've built grows stronger and stronger before you're both fucking each other wildly, chasing your own and each others orgasms at the same time.

"Alci - I'm - I'm gonna -"

"Yes, yes baby yes!"

The grip you have on one another tightens as you both go flying over the edge together, tumbling down into a ravine of absolute pleasure. The strap sinks deep into your g-spot and your back arches off the bed, your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a silent scream. Alcina buries her face into the side of your neck, muffling her groan of release as the explosion from her bundle of sensitive nerves shoots through her body. Your bodies become one as you share your release. Limbs trembling around one another, nails biting deeply into skin, hips riding out the remainder of your orgasms, both for your own sakes and for each others. You swear you can feel Alcina's heart beating against your chest and you're sure she can feel yours as well.

As the waves of pleasure relent the two of you still your movements and the clouds in your mind slowly fade away, leaving the two of you panting against one another. The two of you lay in your post-orgasmic bliss for a few moments in silence, enjoying the feeling of your bodies pressed impossibly close together as the strap is still buried deep within you. Alcina's nails leave your shoulders, no doubt leaving little crescent shaped marks behind, as yours release from being buried in her ass cheek - positive you've left a matching set on her skin as well.

Alcina presses soft kisses into your shoulder and neck as you hold each other tight before she sits up enough to capture your lips in a loving kiss. With your attention on her lips, she gently slides the strap out, eliciting you to groan into her mouth. The wet silicone lays against your stomach as Alcina continues to kiss you. Before she pulls away completely she looks deeply into your eyes. Just from the way she's looking at you, you know exactly what she wants to say. Even though she doesn't have to, she says "I love you, draga mea. More than I ever have and ever could love anyone else. You make me the luckiest woman on this earth."

"You make me the luckiest woman on this earth. I love you so much, Alci."

The following morning you wake up to an empty bed, which isn't unusual since Alcina tends to wake at the crack of dawn. What you weren't expecting, however, was for the girls to be seated at the kitchen table and for breakfast to be made when you get downstairs. At ages nine and ten, Cassandra and Bela are happily eating their pancakes and waffles while your six year old, Daniela, is seated next to Alcina who is helping her cut into her waffle.

"Well this is a lovely surprise." You say as you walk over to Alcina and bend down to kiss her.

Bela and Cassandra make audible noises of disgust which are quickly silenced by one look from their mother.

"Sit down my love, eat." Alcina says as she gets up and makes you your morning cup of tea. She places a kiss at the top of your head after handing you your mug and returns to assisting Daniela.

It was a wonderfully pleasant breakfast with minimal arguing between the girls and much to your surprise, minimal mess as well.

The girls start to get themselves ready for school and Alcina gets herself ready for work while you wash off the dishes and place them in the dishwasher. Alcina walks up behind you, snaking her arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your cheek before resting her chin on your shoulder. She begins to gently sway back and fourth while she hums and you let out a giggle as you try to finish the dishes.

Alcina reaches in front of you and turns off the sink as her swaying continues.

"What on earth are you doing?" You say with a laugh, grabbing the dish towel and drying your hands.

Spinning you around, Alcina takes one of your hands in hers and places the other on your waist. She expertly leads you in a slow dance while her humming turns into her softly singing. Laying your head on her chest, the two of you bask in the spontaneous romantic moment she's created. For just a few moments, the world fades away and it's just the two of you - you and your wife, the love of your life, enjoying the peacefulness of each others embrace.

The moment doesn't last long - with three young kids and a business to run it never does. But for the few moments you both were able to get lost in another world together, you find yourself falling in love with Alcina over and over again.

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (07)

chapter seven: built to break

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight

Love Me or Leave Me - Day6

The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.

Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.

Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u

Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?

Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat

That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.

It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.

You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.

The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.

Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.

You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.

It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.

You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.

Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.

To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.

Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.

Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.

You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?

For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.

Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.

There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.

Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.

When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.

You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.

"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.

"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I saw them talking at a party once."

"Okay. And?"

"And what? That's it."

"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"

"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."

The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."

You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.

"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.

"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."

You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"

Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."

"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.

The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."

You make a face. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"

Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.

Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.

The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.

The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."

"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"

Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.

You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.

Dove.

His dove.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.

"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."

"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."

"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.

"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."

You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.

You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...

He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.

You've missed it. You've missed him.

"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.

"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.

You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.

"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."

You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.

Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.

It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.

It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.

Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...

You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.

Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"

It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."

"The project stressing you out?"

"I guess, yeah."

"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Were you avoiding me?"

You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.

On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.

Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?

You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.

Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.

"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.

You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.

You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.

When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.

"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.

"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.

"Is everything okay?"

It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.

It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.

Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?

Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.

And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.

You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.

Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"

Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.

He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."

He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.

Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?

Then he continues, "For me, at least."

And there it is.

It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.

You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.

Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.

He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.

Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.

Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.

One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.

"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."

Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"

"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."

You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.

He takes a step closer, you take a step back.

You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.

He blinks.

"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"

You say nothing.

You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"

"It matters if I did something to upset you."

"You didn't."

"Okay. So?"

This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"

Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.

Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.

"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.

It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.

"So you lied to me?"

"I've never lied to you."

"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."

It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.

The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.

Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.06.2024]

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch

Archmaester Gyldayn’s Testimonies of Princess Aelora Targaryen’s Youth

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: This is kind of a filler chapter until I can finish chapter 7. I was planning on either putting this at the end of chapter 6 or the beginning of chapter 7, but here is as good as any. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be able to finish chapter 7 by next Sunday. Thank you for your support and patience. Love y'all! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Chapter Warnings: mentions of childhood SA, mental illness, suicidal ideations, Targaryen queerness.

Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest child blossomed into a captivating presence at Dragonstone, earning admiration from those close to her but invoking fear and ire in those who dared to cross her. Known for her unpredictable temperament, she would fall into fits of anger and sorrow, during which her judgment would become clouded, leading to subsequent regret. In bouts of profound grief, she sought solace in Aegon’s Garden with the company of flora and fauna, finding peace and consolation by tending to the roses and lilacs and fashioning delicate flower crowns for her siblings to wear.

When Princess Aelora was approximately ten and two, eyewitnesses observed her standing on the balcony railing for an extended period during one of her episodes, seemingly trance-like. Despite numerous attempts to persuade her to step down, she adamantly refused, stating her desire for a better view of the landscape. In response to this concerning behavior, Princess Rhaenyra took the drastic measure of ordering the balcony doors to be permanently sealed shut. The exact cause of her distressing episodes remains shrouded in mystery. While many attributed it to the infamous Targaryen madness in her bloodline, the Fool Mushroom believed it was linked to a specific incident involving Prince Aegon during her early years.

Late one night, he claims to have spied on Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon in their bed chambers on Dragonstone. He overheard the Princess confiding in her husband about her eldest’s behavioral problems and impulsivity. He alleges that she confessed to a rape committed by Prince Aegon on her daughter while they were living in King’s Landing. However, this information is heavily debated, as there has been no further mention in oral or written records.

When Princess Aelora reached ten and four, scandalous rumors began circulating on Dragonstone about her relationship with her twin brother, Prince Jacaerys. It was whispered that their stepfather went to her rooms after reports of suspicious sounds emerging from behind closed. Prince Daemon was rumored to have discovered the Prince in a compromising position between the legs of the Princess. In response to the gossip, Princess Rhaenyra sent her daughter to study abroad at the Citadel and in Dorne as a gesture of goodwill, hoping it would ease her troubled mind. This separation was particularly difficult for the twins, as it was the first time they had ever been apart. Prince Jacaerys was visibly upset during this time, spending hours upon end sulking inside his chambers and absconding his duties until Princess Aelora finally returned home once they both came of age.

Nevertheless, Princess Aelora radiated warmth and kindness to all she encountered. She was admired for her outgoing and naive nature, and she took great delight in her love for nature, herbalism, botany, and medical techniques gathered from her journeys around the realm. Her fondness for citrus plants was evident as she carried the sweet scent of the fruits wherever she roamed, though they were difficult to cultivate on Dragonstone’s soil. Adorned in her late father’s distinguished Velaryon blue, she was never seen without the elegance of pearls, aquamarine, topaz, and sapphire, with a delicate headpiece and veil enshrouding her dark, lustrous locks.

When eligible suitors ventured to Dragonstone intending to court Rhaenyra’s eldest daughter, she dismissively turned them away, leaving the cock hurt Lords to return home scorned. It was said that during a gathering of the court, Princess Aelora boldly declared that she harbored no yearning for a marital alliance, as she found solace in the enduring companionship of her beloved dragon Gaelithox and her loyal brother, firmly indicating that she had no intention of entering into matrimony.

IMO, the reader suffers from borderline personality disorder. People with BPD are often mistaken for having depression, but the main qualifier is periods of mania with impulsivity, which is more susceptible to hypersexuality and addictions. They're typically triggered by actual or perceived separations, disagreements, and rejections. Highly sensitive to abandonment and being alone, which brings about intense feelings of anger, fear, suicidal thoughts and self-harm, and very impulsive decisions. People with high-functioning BPD experience frequent negative thoughts, fear of rejection, and regret about expressing their feelings. I'm by no means a mental health expert. This is just my head cannon.

Masterlist of Series

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Jace and the reader fulfill the Targaryen queerness. Who would've thought? XD

Thank you for reading! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

P.S. the reader wears what's called a French hood. I couldn't find one that matched her aesthetic unfortunately.

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint , @ln8118 , @prettyduckling22 , @primroseluna

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,954

Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.

A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.

“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”

“Kento!”

“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”

“Right—”

“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”

“Squirt—?”

The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.

“You’re a virgin.”

“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”

That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.

If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.

Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.

If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!

“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”

Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.

“Answer, answer god, please.”

He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.

Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.

“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”

You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.

While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.

“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”

Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“Yeah, can I please?”

“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”

As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.

Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.

“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.

Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.

‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’

Vagina?

‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.

“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!

Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.

“Oh my god! Stop!”

“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.

“Stop it!”

“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”

You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.

“It’s not bad—”

“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”

The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.

The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.

Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”

“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”

“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”

You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”

It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.

“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”

Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.

“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”

Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.

“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”

Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.

“You want me to make you cum?”

“P-Please.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.

Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.

Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.

“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.

Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”

“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.

The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.

“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.

With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.

Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.

“S-Suguru—”

“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.

“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.

Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.

“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.

The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.

“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”

“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”

“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”

“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.

“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”

“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”

His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’

Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?

As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.

“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”

Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.

“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”

“Okay! Um! Let's start.”

You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!

But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.

“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”

“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”

Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.

“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”

In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.

“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”

With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.

Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.

While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”

Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.

Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.

“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.

Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.

“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.

“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“

“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.

You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.

Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.

“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”

“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”

“Awesome!”

After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.

As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26

[chvoswxtch]

we got a problem

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you discover a shocking revelation about who's behind the defenders of freedom.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns & violence

word count: 4k

a/n: this chapter is a little on the shorter side, but it does contain a huge bombshell. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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If someone had told you six months ago that you would be going shopping with Frank Castle, you would’ve done more than laugh maniacally; you would’ve recommended that they get a psychological evaluation. Hell, even seventy-two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed it. But here you were, in the women’s section, sifting through hangers and stacks of clothing with Frank following you closer than your own shadow, listening to his quiet grunts of irreverence and faint hums of approval when your fingers wandered over different items.

“I don’t get what the big deal is ‘bout this place. It’s just a store.”

All at once, your palm paused over a dark blue pair of jeans, and you looked up at Frank in a mock expression of horror while clutching your hand over your chest. 

“Target isn’t just a store, Frank. It’s a way of life. And we happen to be in a Super Target, which means not only do they have literally everything you could ever want, but there’s a built-in makeup store and a Starbucks.”

Frank rolled his eyes in exasperation and grumbled under his breath as he lifted the white grande cup up on cue, which looked comically tiny in his large hand, and brought it up to his lips to take a sip of the black coffee he had gotten.

“Yeah, don’t remind me I paid seven fuckin’ dollars for one goddamn cup of coffee.”

“Technically you paid eighteen because you were kind enough to buy my iced latte.”

“Is it even still a latte when you ask for fifteen extra fuckin’ shots of espresso?”

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you arched one of your brows and placed your hands on your hips while looking up at Frank. 

“I asked for two extra shots-“

“When it already came with four-“

“I don’t need to explain my caffeine intake to you. Now, if you’re finished with your interrogation, can you tell me how long we plan to be on the run for?”

A slight crease nestled between Frank’s brows while his features twisted into a look of incomprehension. Shoving one of his large hands into his jean pocket, he pursed his lips slightly in conjunction with shrugging his broad shoulders.

“However long it takes to figure out who’s behind this shit.”

“And…exactly how many outfits and tubes of toothpaste does that translate into?”

“Just get whatever ya want.”

Pinching at the bridge of your nose, you inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath before crossing your arms over your chest and staring up at Frank. 

“I don’t know how much you think journalists make, but I can’t exactly-“

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’m buyin’.”

Those words were certainly not what you were expecting to come from Frank’s mouth, and the shock was evident on your features. While you stared up at him, completely stunned, Frank gave a light shake of his head with a miniscule charming smile and took another sip of his coffee.

“You can’t use any of your credit cards. They could be trackin’ your bank accounts to figure out where you are.”

“I could pull out-“

“You use an ATM to get cash, they’ll know which one you pulled it from, and that gives ‘em a location. As far as they know, you’re dead somewhere. The longer they think that, the more time we got to figure this shit out.”

“Frank-“

“Just put the goddamn stuff in the cart, and finish your liquid heart attack. We got shit to do.”

Realizing that Frank was serious about his offer, a part of you felt guilty for all the items currently in your cart. You weren’t high maintenance by any means-okay maybe a little, but a girl has needs. You couldn’t get by with three shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a three in one bath product like Frank could. 

On the other hand, you were curious to see exactly how much you could get away with, and the urge to press his buttons was oh so tempting. A devious grin stretched slowly across your lips, and Frank narrowed his eyes at you in suspicion when he noticed the mischievous twinkle in your gaze.

“Well, if you insist.”

Dropping the jeans into the cart with a satisfied smirk, you pushed the cart over towards the makeup section in the middle of the store and could hear a disgruntled Frank muttering an ‘aw hell’ under his breath as he followed right behind you, much to your amusement, which caused laughter to bubble up from your chest. 

Shopping with Frank was your new favorite activity.

»»———　　———««

“How them sheets feel?”

A faint smirk curled at the edge of your mouth as you glanced at Frank over your shoulder from where you were laying on your stomach on one of the comfortable beds. He had managed to find a decent hotel outside the city, and got a room with two beds much to your disappointment, but anything was an upgrade compared to the seedy motel the two of you had camped out in the previous night.

“Like clouds.”

Frank raised one of his dark brows in silent amusement while looking over at you from his spot at the desk by the window. He let out a quiet grunt in response before his features morphed back in pure concentration while he averted his gaze back down to the gun he was currently cleaning. For a moment you completely forgot what you were doing and just watched him, completely mesmerized. His large hands moved methodically, but so fluidly as he cleaned each piece and re-assembled the weapon, like it was second nature and something he could probably do with ease in his sleep. The way his fingers were gliding over the pieces had your mind suddenly wandering to what else Frank’s hands might be good at. 

“Find anythin’ yet?”

Frank’s gruff voice tore you out of your impure thoughts, and your cheeks burned with heat realizing you had spent the past three minutes gawking at him. Clearing your throat, you turned your attention back to the documents in front of you, willing the black and white text to come back into focus as you found the paragraph you had left off on.

“Um…it seems like all the permits and the deed for the land are registered to a company called Fortis Allied. I can’t find a name attached to it, but all the paperwork is fairly recent. Everything looks like it was filed within the last year.”

“You say fortis? Like f-o-r-t-i-s?”

“Does that ring a bell for you?”

“It’s Latin.”

Scrunching up your brows, you turned your head to look at Frank again in a mixture of puzzlement and surprise.

“You know Latin?”

Frank had leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, his legs spread slightly making his lap look like an extremely comfortable and inviting seat. He held onto the handle of the gun in one hand and the rag he had been using to clean the pieces in the other, his dark brows knit as he stared over at you with his eyes squinted slightly in curiosity, like he was deep in thought about something.

“Marines’ got a motto, Semper Fidelis. It’s Latin, means always faithful. Navy’s got one kinda similar; Semper Fortis.”

Frank clicked his tongue against his cheek as he let out a dry and humorless scoff that only fueled your confusion further.

“And why is that funny?”

“Cause it means always courageous. And if these are the assholes we think they are, that’s pretty goddamn ironic.”

Staring down at the slew of papers spread on the bed in front before you, Frank’s Latin lesson presented more questions than it answered, and your lips pursed slightly.

“Defenders of Freedom and Courageous Allied. Their creativity is astounding.”

Frank snickered quietly behind you hearing the dry sarcasm seeping from your voice. Letting out a sigh of frustration, you reached for your phone that was charging on the nightstand. It had been dead for the past seventy-two hours, and as soon as it turned on, you had an overwhelming amount of missed calls and texts from people who thought you were either missing or dead, or both. About eighty percent of the missed calls and frantic voicemails were from Ellison, but to your surprise, there were quite a few missed calls and texts from Billy as well.

You had made sure to turn off your location so that your phone couldn’t be tracked, and Frank had been adamant about you shutting off your imessage. Deciding you had raised your boss’ blood pressure enough for three days, you sat up cross legged on the bed and grabbed one of the paper’s from the bed that had all the company’s information on it.

“I’m gonna call Ellison and see-”

“No.”

Looking over at Frank in surprise, you let out a quiet scoff of incredulity. 

“Frank, I have to tell him I’m alive. And he can help us-”

“The less people know you’re alive right now, the better. I told you, we can’t trust nobody right now.”

Dragging your palm down your face slowly in irritation, you shook your head in a show of defiance.

“I’m pretty sure my boss isn’t one of the people trying to kill me-”

“You don’t know that-”

“Yes Frank, I do. Ellison is practically the closest thing to family I have in this city, and considering that his best friend, and my mentor, was murdered by Wilson Fisk, I can say with absolute certainty that he is not involved in this shit.”

Frank’s hardened features softened slightly hearing the slight twinge of grief that resonated in your tone, and he was looking at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes of his that normally made your knees weak. But right now that infatuating sight was no match for the heaviness of guilt that filled your entire rib cage like raw cement every time you thought about Ben. 

You swallowed the pebble that threatened to swell into a boulder in your throat and stared down at your phone screen, your thumb hovering over Ellison’s contact.

“Fisk was never charged with murder.”

Frank’s voice sounded almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying that, but it was clear he was looking for an explanation behind your accusation, even though he wasn’t outright asking. It was almost eerie how he always seemed to know when to explicitly ask you something, and when to craft an open invitation to let you come to him.

“Ben was writing a story about him. He was going to expose him for who he really was. He got too close, and Fisk killed him for it. He broke into his home and strangled him to death, but he didn’t leave any fingerprints or evidence, and his hard drive was wiped clean. Ben’s d-his case is still considered an unsolved homicide.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Frank slowly stand up from the chair he was sitting in. He tentatively took a few steps towards you and sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his eyes searching your avoidant gaze.

“What makes you so sure that’s what happened though?”

“Because I pushed him into doing the story.”

The way your voice slightly broke off towards the end of your sentence broke Frank’s heart. The remorse you felt was evident as it rose along your waterline.

“He didn’t wanna do the story. He told me to let it go, and I didn’t. If I had just left it alone-”

Frank wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in closer towards him, cradling your head against his chest as he held you close and kept his voice soft.

“Hey, hey…don’t do that. Don’t put that on yourself. Whatever happened, it ain’t your fault, you got that? Don’t take the blame for somethin’ that someone else did. He did the story cause he knew you were right, yeah? He believed in you, sweetheart. And that piece of shit Fisk is rottin’ in prison where he belongs, gettin’ exactly what he’s got comin’ to ‘em, trust me.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as he slowly carded his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. 

“I just feel like it’s all my fault. Like I…I could’ve prevented it.”

For a moment Frank was silent. Eventually he let out a heavy exhale through his large nose and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I know.”

The deafted way he spoke those two words made it sound like Frank was telling you that he knew exactly what you were feeling, and an ominous thought crossed your mind as you found yourself wondering if he felt that way about his wife’s death. 

He let go of your head and reached into his pocket, pulling out the burner phone that he used. Frank handed the flip phone to you, and you lifted your head to stare up at him curiously. 

“Let ‘em know you’re alright, but make sure he knows it’s important no one else knows nothin’ ‘bout you, yeah?”

“You can trust him, Frank. He’ll help us.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, you managed to calm an absolutely hysterical and pissed off Ellison, changed his mind about firing you once you were no longer considered missing/dead, and caught him up on everything that had happened since the night you were attacked three days ago. He agreed to help you and Frank do some digging into the company listed on the permits for the warehouse that burnt down, and in addition to emailing you everything he could find about the company, he also sent you copies of the reports on the two men that had attacked you.

“You were right.”

Frank’s head instantly snapped over in your direction, and his thick brows rose up his forehead slightly in bewilderment.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Cavella and Walker were in the Navy.”

Holding out your phone for Frank to see, you showed him the article you were currently reading on your phone that had a picture of the two men in their Naval uniform. Frank seemed to completely ignore your comment and was looking at you instead of the screen.

“You mind repeatin’ that?”

“I said Cav-”

“Nah, what you said before that ‘bout me bein’ right.”

As you caught the delighted smirk that tugged at the edge of Frank’s mouth, you rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head with a soft laugh, returning your attention to the article.

“Shut up, I tell you when you’re right.”

“Yeah, only after I gotta fix that bratty attitude of yours. The other ninety nine percent of the time, you gotta fight with me ‘bout every goddamn little thing.”

“Don’t be so fun to argue with, and I’ll stop.”

Lighty shrugging your shoulders with a faint mischievous grin on your lips, Frank shook his head and let out a dry scoff in response.

“Ya’know, you remind me of another hot-headed smartass I know.”

“Your other favorite person?”

“He’s the fuckin’ Devil, and a goddamn pain in my ass. Hell of a lawyer, though. You oughta think ‘bout switchin’ professions and arguin’ for a livin’. Think you could give even him a run for his money.”

For some reason that made you laugh loudly. The kind of carefree laugh where you throw your head back like a little kid, eyes crinkling, stomach aching with pure joy. Frank was the first person to make you laugh like that in a long time.

“I’m perfectly happy where I’m at. Besides, I’m pretty sure I would be disbarred within the first hour. I don’t think you’re allowed to tell the opposing court to go fuck themselves when they say something out of pocket.”

“Pretty sure you ain’t allowed to throw shit at ‘em either.”

Turning your head to glare playfully over at Frank, he returned it instantly with a challenging arch of his dark brow. You couldn’t fight the grin that slowly stretched across your lips seeing the faux serious look on his face.

“I threw a pillow at you.”

“Two pillows. Hard as hell, too.”

“I had no idea you were so sensitive.”

“I’m fuckin’ delicate, goddamn it.”

The mock expression of offense on Frank’s face coupled with the serious tone of his voice made you double over with laughter. He couldn’t seem to keep his composure either, and he began to laugh along with you. Shaking your head slowly, you waved your hand at him dismissively and turned your attention back to your phone.

“Okay, I’m trying to solve a case here. Stop distracting me. I have more than two pillows in my arsenal right now.”

“That a threat?”

“It’s a promise, Castle.”

“I had no idea you were so ruthless.”

Frank grumbled quietly under his breath as he looked through the stack of papers with the ghost of a smile on his lips while you softly laughed, his dark eyes scanning the pages for anything either of you might have missed. 

As you looked through the documents Ellison had emailed you about Fortis Allied, perplexity creased in the middle of your forehead the more you looked through each page.

“It’s not a real company.”

“What?”

“Fortis Allied. It’s…it’s like a shell company. It’s just a front. And it’s owned by…”

As you read the signature on one of the forms you were looking at, your confusion melted into an expression of cognizance. Enlarging the signature, you turned to show your screen to Frank, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he read the letters, before his face shifted into a look of indignation.

“Son of a bitch.”

Owned and operated by Nicolas Cavella.

Before either of you could say anything, Frank’s phone started to ring. He glanced down at and read the name flashing across the screen, giving you a quick glance before flipping it open to answer.

“Yeah?”

He stood up and walked over towards the window, leaning against the wall with his back to you. Curiosity got the better of you, and your eyes fixated on him as you watched him intently.

“Been takin’ care of somethin’. What do ya need?” His voice sounded a little rougher than usual, and you caught the way he tensed slightly and watched as his eyes flickered over at you over his shoulder. You arched one of your brows silently, as if asking him who he was talking to and what was going on.

“Yeah…I know. Cause I turned ‘em off. You know why, Bill. Yeah, she’s fine.”

Billy.

It abruptly dawned on you that you weren’t sure if Frank had told Billy what happened. He was technically supposed to be with Steven right now. Where did Billy think Frank was? What had Frank told him? Why wasn’t Frank letting him help?

In the midst of your chaotic inner monologue, Frank’s head dropped between his shoulders for a moment and he let out a heavy exhale before turning to stare over at you with an unreadable expression.

“She’s with me.”

The way Frank said that sent a shiver cascading down your spine, and the room suddenly felt twenty degrees hotter. You watched as he lightly clenched his jaw and nodded, as if Billy were in the room and not on the other end of the line.

“Be there in an hour.”

Without another word, Frank snapped his phone shut, and you watched him inquisitively.

“What was that about?”

“I gotta go check in with Bill. That trustfund asshole is throwin’ a fit ‘bout me not bein’ ‘round.”

While Frank started to gather his wallet and his gun, you quickly got down from the bed, feeling your pulse start to quicken at the thought of him leaving.

“Wait, I thought Steven didn’t want you around?”

“And I didn’t wanna be ‘round, but I guess you gettin’ kidnapped and two cops gettin’ shot spooked ‘em. I won’t be gone long.”

Before Frank could take another step, you grabbed your bag and started to gather up all the paperwork back into the folder.

“I’m coming.”

Frank paused while reaching for his black denim jacket. He let out a deep exhale as she shook his head and motioned towards the bed for you to sit.

“It ain’t safe for you to be in the city right now. Just stay here and I’ll be-”

“Frank, we already talked about this. I’m safer with you, okay?”

“It’s only an hour away-”

“I don’t care if it’s five minutes down the street, I don’t want to be without you.”

Alone. You had meant to say, ‘I don’t want to be alone’. But the words had already left your lips, and Frank was already staring at you with that one look in his eyes that you could never seem to decode. He didn’t hesitate like he did when you asked to come on the stakeout with him. He walked over towards the door of the hotel room and opened it, gesturing with his head for you to follow him, and before you knew it, the New York City skyline was coming into view.

»»———　　———««

When Frank pulled up to the Anvil office and put his truck in park, he turned his head to look at you with a somewhat stern gaze.

“Just stay in the truck, alright? Won’t be long.”

“Okay.”

For a minute, Frank’s thick brows knit together before they rose up his forehead an inch, like he was shocked you simply agreed instead of arguing with him about coming in. He eyed you warily for another moment before letting out a quiet grunt and getting out, closing the driver side door behind himself. While you watched him march up the front steps of Anvil, it was incredibly amusing to see how many people rushed to get out of his way. You weren’t sure if it was because they knew him and knew to stay out of his way, or if it was because of his physical stature and the permanent broody look etched onto his sharp features. Either way, you couldn’t help but laugh.

While you sat there in the truck looking through your phone, you noticed that there was a red notification dot lingering over your voice notes app. Clicking on the app curiously, you were met with an error message that read “Failed to capture full recording”. Immediately you were puzzled, and then you noticed that your last recording was over four hours. When you checked the date and saw it was from three days ago, a soft gasp left your lips.

You had never stopped the recording with Walker and Cavella.

Your phone must have just kept recording until it eventually died. With everything that had happened the past three days, you had almost forgotten about the recording entirely. Pressing the play button, you turned up the volume and listened to the playback.

The sound of glass shattering and bullets flying along with your own panicked scream had you wincing and pulling the phone away from your ear. The sounds of one of the most traumatic nights of your life had your stomach twisting into anxious knots, and you felt the phantom pain in your bandaged hand of glass slicing it open all over again. But just as you were about to turn it off, something caught your attention and made your ears perk up.

Rewinding the recording a few seconds, you pressed play again.

“Pr…we…ot…fuc…lem.”

The sound of bullets being fired in the background made it difficult to make out the words. You rewound it a few seconds and played it again, furrowing your brows as you listened intently.

“Pr…we..got..fuc…problem.”

After quickly downloading one of those music recording apps on your phone, you imported the clip from the voice memo and tried to figure out how to isolate the audio to where you could hear it better. As you pressed play this time and listened, you could hear Cavella’s frantic shouting clear as day, and his words made your blood run cold.

“Price, we got a fucking problem!”

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[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

three | chapter list

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you. 

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Julianna is a real princess. As a granddaughter of the Queen, step-daughter of a prince, her title is official. She’s been a princess nearly all her life, and it’s a detail you can’t miss. 

James’ hand is hot but amicable against your shoulder blade. He hasn’t stepped away from you since Julianna arrived, though what threat she poses has yet to be seen. She doesn’t seem particularly volatile. You can’t imagine her in all her dewy skin and fine clothing lifting a finger, let alone her fist. 

“Mama says you’re an artist,” she drawls. 

“Not really.” How her mother knows anything about you is a mystery. “It’s a hobby, is all.” 

“And you didn’t finish university?”

“No.” You don’t owe her anything. You know you don’t. But it’s not just her you want to defend yourself to, not when Remus is sitting by the window of the parlour and James is close enough to hear your heartbeat. “I tried to, obviously, but I couldn’t, uh, afford to not work.”

“Ah.”

You don’t expect her to understand it. You know most people don't. Studying and working, the majority can handle both. You’d been ashamed of yourself for failing, but you’d come to the realisation that it was sink or swim. You could sink —resent yourself for needing more time, more space, more accommodation— or you could swim. Accept your ‘shortcomings’. Make the most of what you have. 

Find yourself in a foreign country surrounded by the highly educated and the ridiculously wealthy. People who might never comprehend why you’ve struggled, or how. 

In that moment, you decide to treat this heart-wrenching trip as nothing more than a holiday. James is nice to you. The food is free and apparently plentiful. The grounds… 

Fuck, the grounds. The scenery. The royals aren’t currently living in their most famous residence, Loswell Castle, but are instead mourning the Prince at the more private and more subtle Bellaverden House. Subtle, yet gorgeous. The grass is green and stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions, broken up only by the silhouette of the alps to the east and the shimmering Lake Orlo to the west. The palace itself is nothing like you’d expected, and so far from the capital city of Genovia it is no surprise to find that the royals let their personal tastes bleed into every corner. It’s tasteful, silent wealth, no crystal chandeliers hanging from the eaves but instead a Rembrandt in the hallway. No solid gold cutlery, but instead Noritake porcelain tea cups and their matching exorbitant saucers.

“Loswell is the gaudier of the two houses,” James had said, evidently pleased by your wide-eyed surprise.

A nice boy who’s being paid to spend time with you and his funny friends. All you have to do is survive the paparazzi (check!) and your suspicious possible relatives (less so).

Any hour now, the paternity test will come up negative and they’ll be shepherding you home in search of the actual princess, wherever she may be. 

If she exists at all. 

“You haven’t eaten anything today,” James says softly, for your ears only. “Should we go down to the kitchens?”

It’s hard to describe the true and daunting scale of Bellaverden House, but James’ use of ‘kitchens’ rather than ‘kitchen’ sums it up nicely. 

Julianna rolls her shoulders, reaching for a black telephone on the side table. “No need. We’ll have it brought up. What do you like? They have yards of fresh pasta prepared by now. Doesn’t matter, I’ll ask for some of everything.”

“Oh, no,” you say, stepping out of James' reach. “I don’t want to be an imposition while I’m here.”

“That ship has sailed,” she says neatly. 

Ouch. You look back to James without intending to, an automatic movement. He’s become your safety net too quickly. His job is to protect you from harm, not your catty maybe-cousin’s mild disdain. 

“Sit,” Julianna says. “James, you can take up station in the hallway. Go on.”

Her voice possesses all the snobbish airiness you’d expect it to. She’s regal, elegant, and rude. James’ hand stretches toward yours, your fingers not quite touching. You think it might be his silent way of saying he won’t be far.

He gives you a reassuring half-smile. “If you need me,” he says. 

“Tutor,” Julianna adds once James is at the door, “you can leave us.”

“Remus, please.” You smile at Julianna appealingly, piping up before she can steal your last lifeline. “I need him to tell me what silverware to use. If I have any hope of catching up, I’ll have to start learning about proper etiquette straight away.”

You look to your tutor to make sure he’s on board. Remus gestures for you to sit and crosses the hardwood floors between you, his footsteps soundless. Julianna sniffs, your suggestion agreeable but tiresome for her, and pulls the telephone receiver to her ear. 

Remus settles into the chair next to yours at the table. 

“Don’t worry. We won’t leave you for wolves,” he says.

You’re grateful. You nod to the book in his hands. “What are you reading?”

He turns the book around. A Comprehensive History of Contemporary Genovia. 

“I’ve never had to educate someone who didn’t already know a very specific, very intricate history of our country,” he says in his melding voice, the barest hints of his accent peaking through. He says our country like you already belong as he does, not native but citizen anyhow. “I provide supplementary education for the well-educated, I… I’m like a second chance for rich slackers. You’re neither, and so I’m not sure how I can make this easy on you.”

You admire his thinking. You’ve been lucky to find yourself in the care of people who put your comfort first. Remus, James, Sirius, even the ambassadors of the country, and the matron you’d been introduced to upon your arrival here, they’ve all been so conscientious. 

But it won’t matter. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says. 

“You do?”

“You’ve made it clear how much faith you have in the current situation. I believe…” that you’re who we suspect you are, you think he might say, but he parts his legs to bump his knee into yours. “I believe we’re going to be good friends.”

That is… “Thank you,” you say softly.

The telephone jingles as Julianna slams it down. “So, what’s with the bruise?” she asks. “And the bad makeup. Mean boyfriend back home?”

Her cavalier attitude chafes. “I was a little too close to the door when someone opened it,” you say.

“Ah.”

Again with the Ah. Extra syllables must be at cost. 

Positivity, you remind yourself. This is a vacation. This inane and insane need to constantly prove yourself to the people around you is going to make you crazy, especially when all of this is temporary. Who cares what princess Julianna thinks of you now when, in a day or two, she’ll remember you as nothing more than the girl who they brought by mistake? And wouldn’t it be nice to just… not care? Who cares what Julianna thinks?

You stand and walk to the door where James is standing, because calling for him would make you feel like an entitled dick. He turns his head to you obligingly. 

“Would you come back inside? The painting is giving me the jeebies.”

“That’s a portrait of your great great grandmother.”

“She’s scary.”

He claps your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “If the test comes out negative, I’ll happily commit royal espionage for you and fix the results.”

“That is not a joke you should make,” Remus calls mildly. 

“Probably not. I’ve made it now. Sit down, Princess, the food’s arriving.”

The food they bring up to you is Genovian specialty cuisine, recipes borrowed from the Italians hundreds of years ago, and how fortunate you are for that. You have no clue where to start, surrounded by rich smells of broth and stewed vegetables, the spritely aroma of white wine and tomatoes so fresh their roasted skins split under the gentle bottom of your spoon. 

James refuses to eat with you, as he’s on the clock, but Remus sits down at the table as promised to guide you through the fascinatingly intricate etiquette it takes to be a new royal. 

“That’s Cioppino,” Remus says, pointing to a dark red stew bragging large pieces of crab, smaller chunks of a white meat you’re unsure of, and the distinct dark brackets of mussel shells. “It’s actually an Italian-American dish. It’s served with sourdough or French bread, but in our case, where you can’t necessarily use your hands, we’ll go without.”

“There’s nobody here I need to impress, right?” you ask quietly. 

You swear you can hear Julianna twitching. 

Remus doesn’t respond to your comment, though his voice is riddled with amusement when he continues. “It’s more common for the crab to be served in its shell, but I don’t suppose they want the royals using crab forks and crackers." He points to a second bowl. “This, from the looks of it, is a variation of stufato di capra e fagioli, Italian for ‘stew of goat meat and beans’. Self explanatory. It’s very popular here in the winter, it’s,” —his voice drops to a lower register— “Sirius’ favourite. Shoulder meat, onions, carrots, celery, white wine and white beans. I don’t suppose I have to tell you what that is.” He nods to a heaping bowl of gnocchi coated in a green, buttery sauce, and its familiar wingman — fettuccine alfredo. 

“Now there’s one I know,” you say with a smile. 

“I think they’ve gone easy on you,” Remus says. “Given you something they knew would be familiar. The head cooks, Marlene and Marsha, hardly ever serve fettuccine without ragù di pollo. Chicken ragù. It’s a sacrament in Marlene’s eyes to separate the two.”

He moves so easily from English to Italian. You wonder if he speaks Genovian. Is there a Genovian language? You’re too embarrassed to ask, instead piling a mound of unadventurous fettuccine into your bowl. 

Julianna picks up the telephone again and you let yourself relax as her conversation begins. She pokes at her food and talks in Italian down the line, staring straight at you as she says the word, ‘principessa’. You don’t have to be a linguistics expert to know she’s talking about you. Eventually, her attention fades. Remus loosens at your side. 

“This spoon,” he corrects, before opening his book and sagging into his seat.

You're famished, yet all the rich food makes you nauseous. You toy with your fettuccine and a little of the cioppino. Weirdly, you miss the ordinary smells of your kitchen.

A figure moves behind you, James’ shadow shifting to cover your hands. “Unladylike as it might be,” he says, “you’ll regret it if you don’t try the bread, Princess. Freshly baked, soaked in pesto, it’s what us peasant folk fight over at the end of a shift.”

You hold your hand to a beautiful sliced baguette, “This one?”

“That’s the one.”

You pull the bread apart and enter a stodgy, olive oily sort of heaven. The only thing better than how it tastes is James' happy sound when you set aside a huge slice in a napkin and usher it behind your back, as inconspicuous as you can possibly be. He has no choice but to take it. A telltale crunch comes quickly and poorly smothered. 

Julianna excuses herself, and a maid comes to take her plates and dirtied cutlery on a silver cart.

You lean toward Remus with a hand over your mouth. “What do you call them? The ladies in uniform?”

“Princess, you can call them whatever you want to,” James butts in, returning to your side now Julianna is absent. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and sits in one of the chairs facing the door.

“But what’s nicest?”

“You’ll learn their names in time,” Remus says easily. “You’ll be fine. Officially, they’re ‘attendants’. Maids, cleaners. Oh, you’ll have a lady in waiting–”

“A what?” 

“A personal assistant,” James says. 

Your face heats up like an instant flush, all hot pinpricks and embarrassment, “No,” you beg, standing up, “please, that would be entirely unnecessary, it’s not like I’m some sort of–”

“Princess!” A familiar voice shouts. Sirius has weaselled inside the door and closed it tight, his back pressed against it for a moment like he’s keeping someone out. He wears an exuberant smile and a brilliant dark ensemble with fine pinstripes that mess with your eyes as he approaches. He’s practically running. “I’ve spoken to Delilah who’s spoken to Beau who’s spoken to Lily who’s been in contact with the legal team in charge of your care here in Genovia, and they’ve heard from the medical team who have been fighting tooth and nail to be put in talks with you,” —he looks at you emphatically now, and there’s something about his expression, part wide-eyed awe, part sympathy, that freezes you to the spot— “because it’s technically your care, and–”

“Sirius, get to the point, please,” James says. He’s looking at you in a different way. Like he’s waiting for you to fall over. 

“Your father,” Sirius says, promptly deciding to start again. “The paternity test is positive. Your DNA is a conclusive match for the Prince, may he rest in peace. You’re a princess. You’re the Princess, by blood. You are a Renaldi.”

There’s a stretching silence. You wrap your hand around the back of your chair and stare at the velvet upholstery of the seat. 

“Terrible last name,” he adds sympathetically. 

You don’t want to be the girl who faints. That would be ridiculous, to fall over and crack your head. So, though you hate to ask for anything, you mumble, “James?”

He wraps a shapely arm behind your shoulders and under your armpit before you lose the feeling in your legs. 

“I think I need to sit down again,” you say. 

“Reckon you do," he agrees, as he pulls the chair around with his foot and arranges you in it efficiently, the tip of his thumb pushed into the pulse point on your neck. “We’ll get you something cold, Princess. You can breathe.” He gives you a little shake, hand spreading wider as it drags down your collar. The pressure is like the safety release of a suction cup. You take in a huge breath. “Breathe, lovely.”

“I’m fine," you say meekly. 

“It’s alright,” he says, with his impossible softness. He’s unafraid to be kind even when there are people watching. 

“I’m fine. I–” You can’t finish your sentence. You’d wanted to say you’ll be okay. That this is just some melodramatic episode, but it isn’t. This is a human reaction to unbelievable news. Because you’re a– you’re a princess. 

You cover your face with both hands and curl in toward your thighs. Silence pervades, your ears abuzz with white noise. You aren’t sure how long you sit there paralysed, but soon James’ gentle murmuring and shushing cuts through the ringing. “It’s alright,” he’s saying, his hand at your elbow, “I swear, it’s alright. You take as long as you need.”

“Mickey’s at the door,” Sirius says. 

“Good. Tell him to radio in a level two security detail and stay there for now. Who else knows, Sirius?”

“By now? Everybody in the castle. Including government officials.”

“And you’re sure?” Sure said severely. 

“Of course I am.”

You’re trying very hard to keep your pasta down. This can’t be happening. It can’t be right. Their test is wrong. They swabbed the inside of your mouth wrong, or got it mixed up with some other person test, or the doctors are lying. Not once in your whole life has there ever been any indication that you are more than the nothing you’ve always been. All your worst insecurities rip to the surface. Not me. Not me.

“Level two isn’t as bad as it sounds,” James says, still so gentle. He’s been talking to you again. “All it means is that I’m not at full attention, and I need someone else to watch the room. That’s all it is.”

“I’m not,” you say. 

“You’re okay.”

“I’m not a princess,” you say, peeking at him through your parted fingers. 

His hand curves around your arm. He pulls it toward him. Encouraging rather than demanding. You let him. 

“Whatever it is that you are,” he says, meeting your eyes, “I’m here to take care of you. Okay? Try to calm down for me.” He nods, hoping you’ll nod back no doubt. You worry at your lip, your teeth scratching delicate skin. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“No one’s expecting you to feel a certain way right now,” Sirius says.

The urgency in his expression has departed completely. He has an air of regret about him now, an uncomfortable set to his jaw. 

It’s not just James in the room witnessing your wobble. You cover your face again and try to become one with the furniture. 

James stands off of his knees, having seemingly decided that you aren’t in any mental peril. He stays hovering behind your chair. You think you might’ve found them all at a loss for what to do. 

The door opens. You imagine a nightmare, Julianna coming to play nice, but it’s the British ambassador Lily once again. She looks as perfect as she did when you saw her last with an immaculately straightened sheet of hair fluttering behind her, her steps hurried. Despite her speed, she doesn’t look unhappy. She’s smiling. The Genovian ambassador Emmeline follows behind her. 

You try to straighten up. 

“We have wonderful news,” Lily says.

“You’re the Princess!” Emmeline squeaks, her tiny stature no bounds for her excitement. “Welcome home!”

She begins clapping. It slows when nobody joins in. 

“What?” she asks cluelessly. “Has something bad happened?”

That’s what you’re trying to work out.

—

James can hear you sniffling.

He rests his shoulders against the wall by your bedroom door and sighs. You'd held in tears for hours after the announcement. Sirius' last announcement has toppled you over. You have to meet your grandmother tomorrow to begin preparing for your father's funeral. James thinks you might have reached your breaking point. He can't imagine the grief of losing a father you didn't know you had, and the stress of being pulled out of your life so suddenly, carted across Europe and left under the judgemental eyes of royals and officials with little direction. Now that the paternity test has been found positive and checked by many, many professionals, your confirmed identity should provide a more stable schedule. From James’ perspective, the days ahead will be easy. For you, they are going to be very, very hard. 

You'll meet the Queen tomorrow at breakfast. The plans for your permanent residency in Genovia will be decided. Your entire life is about to change, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. 

Well… James doesn't really want you to stop it, but it's not entirely true that you can't. You could reject your heritage and go home to your flat, your art, your degree equivalent classes. Maybe you're crying because you're scared you don't have options. 

James thinks about knocking on the door to talk to you. He meant it when he said he has a duty to all aspects of your health, the mental as well as the physical, but it's difficult to define the line between professionalism and being friendly. He's already crossed it. 

He sighs and rubs his weary head. He's tired. Today has been the longest day ever. You'd slept for an hour in the car from the airport to Bellaverden Castle, and James had watched you half jealous and half enraptured. He won't mind looking after you no matter how you look, but your being easy on the eyes is a brilliant plus. Well, when ignoring the huge bruise staining your cheek. 

"Fuck," he says. 

He hasn't been doing very well. Honestly, his failure to keep you from harm in your flat (even if the harm had been him) and then his screw up with the paparazzi has left him off kilter.

James pulls out his pager. He should swap with one of the night guards, and he trusts them all, having picked them himself, but he won’t feel right walking away while you're crying. 

He clicks in Remus' code and waits until he hears it back. It's shorthand between them: if Remus wasn't awake or didn't want to see James, he could've ignored James' page and there'd be no hard feelings. But he answered. Tonight, once James has made sure you're okay, he'll crawl into Remus' bed like when they were kids in a cold dormitory and missing home to sleep for a glorious eight hours. He might even tell Remus how stressed he is. He knows his friend will listen. 

He'd invite Sirius, of course, (and that's assuming he isn't already there) if it weren’t well past ten. Sirius is definitely asleep. 

James hasn't had a proper night's sleep in a week. He feels poorly. He misses his mum. He's hungry. This job is great, he loves what he does; he gets paid to take care of people. It's also too much. It eats at him. 

"Fuck," he says again. 

"James?" 

He flinches hard. 

There it is, his third mistake. He's very lucky that the chief of royal security is busy making funeral arrangements, because if Mary were here she'd gut him. 

You've crept up on him in his distraction. How could he not notice your footsteps across the floor, or your door handle's heavy metallic thunk?

"Princess," he says, biting his tongue when you wince. He'll have to call you something else. "I'm sorry, I–" James squints at your sore eyes. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to ask… are you alright?" 

"Am I alright?" 

“I just heard you and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You sounded… stressy." 

"You don't have to worry about me. That's my job." He frowns at the remnants of your tear stains, dampness shining at the corners of your eyes and your lashes sticking together in darkened triangles. "I was just about to come and see you, actually. I know today's been hard, and I know I haven't helped. I'm so sorry, again, for hurting you. And at the airport, I know the scuffle with the photographers didn't help your nerves. I know," he stresses, "this is hard. I swear things will be smoother from now on. You have my word." 

You rub your elbow wordlessly. He's about to backtrack, perhaps dig himself a bigger hole, but then you give him one of the softest smiles anyone's ever given him in all his years. 

"It's forgiven. Believe me, James, this is the least of my worries," you say, gesturing to your cheek. It only takes a second for shame to stick its hooks in you, yanking your gaze to the floor. You're wearing an expression he's seen a thousand times on the people closest to him. 

He flicks you under the chin gently. 

"Things are gonna get easier. I swear it," he says.

You plaster a smile on. James figures he can push it some more and wipes the smudgy shine of old tears off of your cheeks. 

"There. Looking good, angel. Why don’t you try and get some rest now, yeah?" 

He keeps getting this odd feeling like you're an old friend and not his charge. It's fleeting and it's making him stupid. This and the sleep deprivation. He swears to himself he'll be better tomorrow. 

You bid him goodnight. James listens to your night time motions until another guard comes to release him from duty, rushing to his room for a shower and a cereal bar, giving his teeth a half-hearted brush before he sets off for Remus' room halfway across the castle. Remus and the other scarcely employed scholars don't have to sleep in the servant quarters like he and Sirius do. Schmucks.

He finds the door unlatched. Mercifully, James decides to spare them both the safety-related lecture. He tries to be as quiet as he can, a head of sandy brown hair turning his way just two steps into the room.

"James?" Remus asks, his voice thick with fatigue. 

"Sorry. You can go back to sleep." 

"I was waiting for you. Drifted off." 

James scrubs a hand through his damp hair and closes the door. He can find his way in the dark. 

"Sirius isn't here?" 

"James…"

"What, are we still pretending?"

"James."

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, Moony." 

"Yeah. Don't lean on my left side. I'll move over." 

"What's wrong with your left side?" 

"I don't know. Maybe from carrying the bags. Maybe not." 

James slides into the warm space Remus has made for him and tries not to feel overprotective. Loving someone who's constantly in pain can be confusing. You don't know how much love you're allowed to give before it starts to be patronising. Remus can take care of himself, but he doesn't need to. 

"Anything I can do?" James whispers. 

"Tell me what's bothering you." 

"Oh, you know… Everything. Nothing. I'm so happy we're all together again, I mean, what are the fucking odds? How long has it been since I could come and see you guys after work without making an appointment? … I didn't love the Prince, but I hate that he's dead, and I…" 

Remus turns his head to James. They're a pillow apart. When James looks at him, he can't remember what Remus looked like when they were young, but he can feel the years of knowing one another stretching out between them. A straining cast of light from under the door catches the edges of Remus' features. James can see the corner of an uneven smile. 

"Go on," Remus says quietly. 

"She's nice. She's really nice. I don't want her to get hurt, but I don’t know that I’m up to this, Moony."

"James, you're up for everything. Always have been." 

"I thought this was a demotion." 

"Isn't it?" 

"If it is, it's one I deserve. I deserve another one. Once Mary sees the mess I've made…" 

Remus reaches across the sheets to pinch James' bicep. "Nobody is good at their new job. Sirius didn't touch up the princess' bruise when we got off the plane, and while they're paid off for now, someone who needs the better payout is going to publish those photos, and soon. Sirius should've been doing his job, but he was too busy looking after me." 

"I tried to cover it–" 

"I know. You did a good job and I'm not blaming you. My point is that he made a mistake. Does he deserve a demotion?" 

James wrinkles his nose. Hate you.

"And I should've better prepared her for meeting Princess Julianna. It was my fault that she felt embarrassed. I tried my best to fit in some coaching for breakfast tomorrow but the poor girl doesn't know a butter knife from a paring knife." 

"That's not true." 

"No," Remus agrees. "I'm making her seem less educated than she is to prove my own point… James, she isn't a princess. She has the blood, and soon she'll get the official title, the land and the money and the education and maybe some of the bad bits, as well. But right now, she's new to being a princess, and she's not very good at it." 

"I get it." 

"Yeah, I know." 

Remus readjusts in bed. James almost misses the pain in his friend's exhale under the sound of crunching fresh sheets. 

"Are you sure I can't do something for you?" 

"I wish," Remus says. He isn't depressed. The opposite, he sounds way too spritely for the time. "You could stop hogging the blankets, for starters." 

James feeds Remus some more blanket and sighs. The mattress is heavenly. The quilts and sheets and pillowcases are soft and thick. By all means, James should've fallen asleep the second his head touched Remus’ pillow.

"You've asked Mickey to look after her tomorrow, right?" Remus asks. 

James had radio'd Mikkelson after his shower to put the early morning shift and protocols in his jurisdiction temporarily. That means James will hopefully be able to sleep until his body feels like it can hold itself together again. He doesn't like leaving you to face the Queen by yourself but it's not as though she'll hurt you, and Sirius will see you bright and early to help you get dressed. James isn't worried. 

"I have. How did you know that?" 

"You're the only one of us who knows how to properly take care of themselves," Remus explains easily. "Good. I'm glad you did. You haven't been sleeping."

"How do you know that?" 

"I love you. I know everything about you." 

James smiles at the ceiling. There is nothing quite as valuable to him than his family. He would do more to keep them all safe and healthy than he should admit on the record, so he keeps it tucked inside and out of view. It's terrifying and freeing at once to look at someone you love and know you're going to do something awful one day if it means they'll come out on the other side of it alive. 

"Not everything," he murmurs. 

"Everything, James."

"Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up right now." 

"One." 

"Which?" 

"Middle."

"Lucky guess." James laughs at their childish squabbling. "I love you, too. I'm really glad we're in the same place again."

"What did you say? What are the fucking odds?" Remus quotes, so tired now that his words are running together. "I'm not sod enough to do the maths, I think it's gotta be deep in the decimals. Lily's and Mary's involvement definitely helped, but to have someone come along who needs security detail, special education, and a lady in waiting is unfathomable." 

James laughs and feels his abdomen shaking. "I'm telling Sirius you called him a lady in waiting." 

"Sorry," Remus says, and James knows his friend is genuinely repentant, though Sirius would've laughed himself if he'd heard the joke. "I'm not trying to put him down. He's worked so hard, he– He's working so hard. He thinks it's easy work because he's good at it. He doesn't realise it's easy because he worked hard to be good at it." 

James has to chew it over for a moment to understand what Remus is saying. Once he understands, he vehemently agrees. Sirius is skilled in many areas. He's a media liaison, a sleuth, a sweet talker. He understands the inner workings of Western media — Sirius can deduce the honesty of a smile from a precursory glance. He may not always trust what he's seeing, but he sees it undeniably. And he can dress well.

"He's the best of us," James sighs agreeably, stretching down the length of the bed until his spine pops and his calves burn. "Shit. I need to start working out properly again now we're here." 

"Tomorrow. We'll figure it all out tomorrow, James. Go to sleep." 

James is obedient. He falls asleep, and doesn’t wake until the sun is warming his cheeks. His hair is still damp at the back and he feels awful in a new way. Better for having slept with someone close by, and catching up on the hours he’s been missing. But his back is stiff. 

He goes back to his room. His neck aches as he brushes his teeth. He does a workout and stretches his rigid limbs until he feels human again. 

The black telephone on his nightstand starts to ring.

“Hello, sir,” Lily says cheerfully down the line. James can picture her sweet smile. “I couldn’t help but notice your absence this morning.”

“How did it go?” he asks, trying to tug on a new pair of socks one handed. 

Lily hums. “It wasn’t awful. It wasn’t good, but it could’ve been worse. Her majesty liked her. Y/N was quiet, she was awkward, but we all know they prefer quiet to mouthy. The last thing they wanted was another Julianna. I felt kind of bad, really. Like I was handing her over.”

“She…” James sighs. “She didn’t seem upset, did she, Lils?”

“No, I actually think she was feeling good. Your boys took good care of her.”

“Brilliant. Oh, and to answer your unasked question, I’m being slovenly. I’ll be back on duty by noon.”

“Slovenly,” she repeats. “I’ve never known you to be any sort of lazy.” She laughs. James is happy that the sound doesn’t break his heart anymore. “Alright, James. I’ll see you later.”

He appreciates what she’s doing, letting him know you’re okay while he’s away. It’s uncanny how fast the people in charge of your care can band together, and Lily has always been kind.

James gives himself a minute to wipe away yesterday and prepare for today. He closes his eyes and shakes his head ferociously, his hair flying every which way. He sorts through all his worries one by one, letting that anxiety eat at him methodically —he’s a bad bodyguard, he’s a bad friend, he doesn’t call his mum enough, he’s chicken shit scared of dying alone, the works— and then pushing it away. Today is a new day with new opportunities. He can prove to you and to himself that he’s good at his job, he can make sure his friends are doing alright, he can call his mum tonight before dinner, and dying alone? He isn’t dying today. That one’s on the back burner. 

He makes his way from his room in the quarter and into the main building, wary that he might come upon a duke or duchess. His radio, clipped as it always is against his left shoulder, chirps with chatter. He bites back a scolding about keeping the line clear and looks out of a Goliath glass window at the grounds below. A marble water fountain spurts proudly at the foot of the stairs, and an elaborate hedgework stands at pruned attention. It’s a nice day. He wonders if you’ll be up for walking. 

He looks for you in the secondary parlour, the den, the library, the dining room. He swings by your room, and when you aren’t there he admits defeat and unclamps his radio, cutting through an inappropriate joke unapologetically. 

“Afternoon. Location on Princess Y/N?”

He imagines his subordinates scrambling to answer, embarrassed by their unprofessionalism, but it’s likely they just don’t know where you are. 

“If I don’t get an answer in the next five seconds, you can all expect to be running laps tonight. That includes you, Mikkelson, I don’t care how much overtime–”

“Sir, this is Daniels. Me and Roma are with the princess in the south wing.”

“Why?”

“She wanted a pencil sharpener.”

James grins to himself. The south wing (or, as James might put it, the guest wing), houses the scholars, the ambassadors, and whatever government official the royals are trying to butter up at the time. He’s feeling positively joyful when he finds you sketching, your face pressed to the window. The Genovian mountainscapes take shape on your page one confident stroke of graphite at a time, a small leather bound sketchbook pressed flat to your knee.

“Settling in?” he asks. 

You raise your head but not your eyes. “You could say that.”

“How was meeting Her Majesty?”

You frown. 

“That bad?” he asks. 

“No, I mean. You know. She’s a queen. It was terrifying.”

Despite your unhappy mouth, you look as relaxed as you have since the moment he met you, dressed in a casual Genovian dress with subtle but remarkable stitching a shade darker than the dress itself and a squared neckline. Your calves are out and glossy in the daylight. They’re rather distracting. 

“You look good,” James says carefully. 

“I’ll miss the fancy lotions,” you say. Your pencil scratches away. 

James’ hands falter where they’re clasped behind his back. “What?”

You meet his eyes properly. He hadn’t realised you’d been avoiding his gaze until you weren’t, your face ringed with guilt, an explanation slow to come. 

“I’m not staying. I can’t be a princess, James.” You shake your head mildly. “I’m going home.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thanks so much for reading! oh no, you want to go home!! rest assured, james and co aren’t letting you go too easily. i hope you enjoyed, reblogs are always appreciated, a thousand kisses for all of you either way <3<3

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Two

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Two: Commercial Problems

Summary: While Charlie goes to speak to Heaven, the hotel tries to put together a proper TV advertisement (with many interruptions)

            (Y/N) had decided they didn’t like the extermination. The screams, the explosions, the angels—it was frustrating. Luckily, in the Hotel, they were removed from the killing and could just sit and wait for things to finish. However, Alastor had gathered everyone together to “show them something” (which, as everyone had learned already, meant everyone was about to be made fun of).

            Alastor switched on the old-timey TV he had permitted in the hotel, and it turned on to reveal an…ad?

            “Well, hello there you wayward sinner!” said Alastor’s voice as it displayed him pointing at two fighting demons. “Do you like bloody, violence, and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell!” The camera zoomed out to reveal a destroyed quarter of Hell. “But what would you say if there was a place to stay that had none of that?” The camera switched to the hotel. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter!”

            The camera faced Charlie, and she waved hesitantly. “Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun things! Such as a somewhat functional staff, and twenty-four-hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversations with our only two guests!” The camera faced Angel and (Y/N). Angel gave the middle finger, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, knowing something was up. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!”

            The video ended, and everyone stared while Alastor perked up, proud of himself.

            “So, what’d ya think?” he said.

            “I’m sorry, what the fuck was that?” said Vaggie angrily.

            “Uh, yeah, one note…” said Charlie awkwardly. “Alastor, I mean—First off, thank you so much for making this, it’s seriously amazing—but, um, maybe the tone is a bit off?” Alastor’s grin just darkened. “We want people to want to come here. This makes it look, um…”

            “Fucking depressing,” suggested (Y/N).

            “Funny. I was going for hilarious!” said Alastor.

            Vaggie narrowed her eyes. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point.”

            “Vaggie is right, Alastor,” said Charlie. “The commercial was to let Sinners know we are trying to help them!”

            “Well, my dear, I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show!” Alastor’s grin widened. “The proper medium to express oneself. But you insist on this: a noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.”

            “Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it?” said Vaggie. She crossed her arms. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us! Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

            Angel raised his hand.

            “What?” said Vaggie.

            “If ya filmin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” said Angel, posing.

            “Ew,” said (Y/N), and Angel stuck out his tongue at them. Neither took it to heart. (Y/N) liked being able to speak their mind in Hell, and Angel would just give an equally witty retort when they did, so they both thrived in conversation.

            “Angel, you’re a porn star,” said Vaggie.

            “A famous porn star,” said Angel. “I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ these walls down to get in.”

            “I would really prefer not to have perverts in the hotel,” said (Y/N), making a face.

            “Yeah, no!” said Vaggie. “Not only do we have a kid here, but filming porn as the commercial is completely out of the question!”

            “Sex sells,” said Angel. “I swear, if you film me goin’ at it with Mr. Fancy-Talk-Creepy-Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants willin’ to stay at the tacky hotel.”

            Alastor looked unimpressed. “Haha! Never going to happen. Besides, like Vagatha said, we couldn’t create such an environment for an impressionable child. What would Charlie think?”

            “Yeah, it sounds like a bad idea…” said Charlie, looking at (Y/N).

            “Is everyone choosing to ignore the fact I killed people?” said (Y/N).

            “Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but I really don’t want to exploit you in that way,” said Charlie, smiling.

            “Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited,” said Angel. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, I got the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits—”

            “Should I just say ‘ew’ after everything you say to get you to stop?” said (Y/N).

            “Won’t stop me!” declared Angel.

            Charlie’s phone went off, and she hurriedly picked it up. “Uh, hold that thought. I’ll be right back!” She walked off to answer.

            “Hey, I have a question,” said Angel. He looked at Alastor. “If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?”

            Alastor laughed. “Oh, trust me. I can.”

            “Why do you think I’m here?” said Husk. “You actually think I’d be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn’t forcin’ me?”

            “What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” teased Angel.

            “Call me ‘Whiskers’ again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat,” threatened Husk.

            “Kinky! Come on, keep talkin’ dirty!” said Angel.

            “Until you let me have a drink, I’m not happy you’re here,” muttered (Y/N), glaring at Husk.

    ��       “Princess over there says no, so no,” said Husk.

            “What the fuck is the point of being in Hell if I don’t get to do anything fun?” grumbled (Y/N).

            “I agree! Why not let the child have a good time? That’s what the hotel is for,” said Alastor.

            “See? He agrees,” said (Y/N), gesturing to Alastor.

            “That is a terrible argument,” said Vaggie. “He just wants you to get into trouble!”

            “I’m in Hell. What more could I do without making a deal with someone, which I’m not doing?” said (Y/N).

            “Indeed,” said Alastor, nodding. “Why not enjoy some entertainment and enjoy oneself?”

            “Stop it,” hissed Vaggie. “This is supposed to be about rehabilitation and redemption, people choosing to stay here.”

            “I’m choosing to stay here, and I think it’s all stupid,” said Angel. “We’re in Hell, toots. That’s kind of the end of the road, ain’t it?”

            “Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be,” said Vaggie. “Just because nobody has made it out before doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

            “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin’ here rent-free,” said Angel. “Crack is expensive.”

            “Haha! Yes!” cheered Charlie, bounding back into the room. “Vaggie! Holy shit!”

            “What?” asked Vaggie.

            Charlie gestured for her to come over, and Vaggie smiled fondly at her girlfriend before walking over. (Y/N) and Angel exchanged inquisitive looks. A moment later, Charlie slipped into song, which meant she was super excited.

(Charlie) “I can do this, Somehow, I know it, I’ll get Heaven behind my plan!”

            So she’s meeting with Heaven? thought (Y/N).

            “Charlie, hold on,” said Vaggie nervously.

(Charlie) “There’s just no way I could blow it! Not this once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

            “It’s just a meeting,” said Vaggie.

(Charlie) “To change their minds, And touch their hearts, Or whatever angels have.”

            “This could be bad,” said Vaggie.

(Charlie) “Cheer up, Vaggie! This could be swell! Something tells me that today will be a happy day, In Hell!”

            “Okay, but just…don’t sing to them,” advised Vaggie.

            “She’s gone,” said (Y/N).

            “That bitch is halfway down the street,” laughed Angel as everyone looked out the door to watch Charlie go.

            “Is she—”

            “She’s dancing, yeah,” confirmed (Y/N).

            Vaggie groaned. “Ugh, no.”

            “Is this going to go badly?” asked (Y/N).

            “It might go alright,” said Vaggie optimistically.

            “It’s going to be an absolute travesty,” said Alastor brightly.

            “In an entertaining way or in the way that we’re going to end up in trouble?” said (Y/N).

            “Both, hopefully!” said Alastor, looking forward for his own amusement.

            Vaggie groaned and put her head in her hands.

            “Well, I’m gonna go out and find something actually fun to do!” chirped Angel.

            “No, nope, nobody’s going anywhere!” said Vaggie. “We’re all sitting down and making a proper commercial that actually helps the hotel!”

            “Uh-oh, does that mean you expect me to be involved?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes,” said Vaggie.

            “I hate being told what to do,” said (Y/N).

            “Tough shit,” said Vaggie.

l

            “Okay, so Charlie is dealing with something very important,” said Vaggie once she had cornered everyone in one room. “So while she’s gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents her vision and what we’re doing here. So, we need a camera. Alastor?”

            He snapped his finger, and an old-fashioned photographic camera appeared.

            Vaggie deadpanned. “A video camera.”

            “Hm.” Alastor was unimpressed with the idea, but he snapped his fingers nonetheless and let a video camera appear.

            “Alright, let’s do this!” said Vaggie.

            First up was a scene with Husk and Angel.

            “And…action!” said Vaggie, pointing the camera at them.

            “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel,” said Husk, reading from the script. “Can I help you with anything?”

            “I’ve been a bad boy,” said Angel. “And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place! On the path to redemption!”

            “Well, you’ve come—”

            “Oh, yes!” Angel cut off Husk.

            “To the right place,” finished Husk, rolling his eyes.

            “Cut,” said Vaggie, sighing. “Okay, Angel, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Husk, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face?”

            “I ain’t no actor!” said Husk. “I can’t memorize this shit!”

            “Well, we could always improv this shit, Baby cakes,” purred Angel.

            Husk shoved him off the counter.

            Vaggie sighed and looked back at (Y/N) and Alastor.

            “This is going great,” said (Y/N) with a grin.

            “Oh, yes, splendidly!” said Alastor.

            Vaggie growled and was tempted to grab her spear as she was faced with shit-eating grins.

l

            Next was Niffty’s scene, but she was more interested in stabbing insects than she was the camera.

            “Stab, stab, stab!” said Niffty.

            “Alright, Niffty! Niffty!” said Vaggie, catching her attention. “Your line is ‘We have the cleanest rooms.’ Okay?”

            “Got it! I’m ready!” said Niffty.

            “Action.” Vaggie turned on the camera.

            Niffty’s smile fell, and she stared, wide-eyed, at the camera.

            “Uh…cut,” said Vaggie, slightly unnerved.

            “How was that?” said Niffty, smiling.

            “Well, Niffty, you actually have to say the line. Let’s roll again,” said Vaggie.

            “Okay!” said Niffty.

            “Action,” said Vaggie.

            Niffty once again just stared, empty-eyed.

            “You’re doing great, Vagina,” whispered Angel.

            “Cut!” shouted Vaggie. “Alright, um, maybe we can try to fix it in post.”

            “Do you even know what that means?” teased Angel.

            “I’ll figure it out!” snapped Vaggie. “(Y/N), Alastor, you’re up.”

            “No, I don’t get on camera,” said Alastor, dismissing the word “camera” distastefully.

            “I don’t want any attention,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms. They really weren’t a fan of having people stare at them, and a commercial would do that, especially for something as crazy as this.

            Vaggie glared. “This is for Charlie.”

            Alastor and (Y/N) remained unmoved and crossed their arms.

            Vaggie cursed under her breath.

l

            (Y/N) knocked on the door of the room Vaggie was using to rewatch the footage she’d managed to get.

            “What?” snapped Vaggie.

            “Listen, I don’t want to be on camera,” said (Y/N), holding up their hands. “I really don’t. But if I can help in some other way, I’ll do it.”

            Vaggie groaned and put her head on her hands. “I don’t know how you can help. It all sucks.”

            “Yes, seems like you’re having a bit of trouble there, hm?” said Alastor, popping out of the shadows.

            “Why are you even here?” snapped Vaggie.

            “For the entertainment!” said Alastor, shrugging. “I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly!” He beamed at Vaggie. “Like you are doing now! Good job!”

            Vaggie narrowed her eyes and pointed the video camera at Alastor. “And here’s Alastor, the egocentric piece of shit that—” the camera buzzed with electricity, and Vaggie was forced to drop it as it sparked.

            “I wouldn’t try that, my dear,” said Alastor. “This face was made for radio.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they were struck with Alastor’s intimidating presence once again. Holy hell, they wanted strength like that.

            “I don’t care who or what you are!” said Vaggie ferociously. “If you are staying here, you are going to make this work! Because it won’t be so ‘entertaining’ to watch over an empty hotel, will it, shitass?!”

            “Fair enough! I’ll tell you what,” said Alastor. “Let’s make a deal.”

            Vaggie scoffed. “Do you think I’m that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you.”

            “Not for your soul,” scoffed Alastor. “Just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again.”

            “You really hate tv,” said (Y/N).

            “It’s the worst medium for expressing oneself,” said Alastor distastefully. “So petty and uninspired.”

            “That’s all you want?” said Vaggie, furrowing her brow.

            “That, or Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing,” said Alastor brightly. “Your choice.”

            Vaggie sighed. “Fine.” She put the broken camera in Alastor’s hand, and it disappeared.

            Green light surrounded him, and he snapped his fingers. “Now, then!”

            Everyone appeared in the room and got 1920s themed outfits, and a camera crew of shadows appeared ready to serve.

            Vaggie smiled. “Alright, everyone! Let’s make a fucking commercial!”

            (Y/N) took a careful step back while Vaggie grabbed the others to film.

            “Still not interested?” said Alastor, amused.

            “I don’t want to be on camera,” said (Y/N), making a face and shaking their head.

            “What do you think of radio?” said Alastor.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Better than podcasts.”

            Alastor’s grin widened, and he nodded in satisfaction. That was the correct answer.

l

            “Charlie!” Vaggie hugged her girlfriend as she finally returned to the hotel. “How’d it go? Did they listen?”

            “Oh, uh, they sure did hear it! But, uh…” Charlie trailed off nervously.

            “Oh, come here! We have something exciting to show you!” said Vaggie. “Alastor pulled some strings, and it’s about to air!”

            “I pulled a few limbs, too!” laughed Alastor. (Y/N) snickered.

            “Wait? The commercial?” said Charlie, eyes widening. “You all made a new one?”

            “Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do say so myself,” said Angel proudly.

            “That’s…that’s amazing!” Charlie’s eyes shone with emotion.

            “Shush, it’s starting!” said Angel.

            The TV showed them in their outfits. ((Y/N) had contributed by filming). “Welcome to the Hazbin Ho—”

            Vaggie’s lines were cut off as the TV switched to a “Breaking News” sign, and the residents and staff of Hazbin Hotel grumbled.

            “Breaking news in Hell today!” said Katie Killjoy as she came onscreen. “We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Do you know what that means, Tom?”

            “No, what does it mean, Katie?” asked Tom Trench.

            “It means we are all royally fucked,” cursed Katie.

            The camera switched to the countdown clock as it cut in half to 176 days.

            “Wait…what?! Why?!” cried Angel.

            “Holy shit,” said (Y/N), eyes widening. Their situation had just gotten worse. They were in more danger.

            And they still had no way to defend themself.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

@dmitrytherat

@a-small-tyrant

@marxo5

@rory-cakes

@andsoigotabutterfly

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |3|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Three: Nosy Friends and Conflicting Feelings

Summary: You and Tara have been seeing a lot of each other for school purposes. One weekend you're away and Tara has the urge to bother you. This leads to teasing and...confusing thoughts

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara pleading the fifth & mentions of death

Notes: My motivation has been going up and down these past two weeks but I finally finished this chapter so here ya go. Hope it's not shit

Masterlist|Previous part|Next Part

“What exactly are we doing here?” you asked.

Tara was leading you to the roof of her apartment building without saying much—which is strange for her. “I’m bored and we have an exam to prepare for. We’re multitasking,” she finally said while opening a door and walking out on the roof.

“And what’s so great about the roof?”

“I need fresh air. Any more questions, Shitlock?” She raised an eyebrow at you while sending you an unimpressed look.

“Someone’s poutier than usual today,” you said. You took your binder out of your bag as Tara already began on her work. 

“Just focus on your dork binder, dork,” she quipped and slouched in her seat, tucking her knees to her chest and raising the height of her notebook.

You rolled your eyes back to your binder. “Sure,” you said in a monotone voice. You were flipping through the various folders when a thought crossed your mind. The thought had you glancing at Tara, a small, downward smile appeared on your face.

“What?”

“Nothin.’” You quickly turned back to look at your notes. 

“No. What?” she repeated, sitting up.

You looked at her again, your same smile from before threatening to cross your face. “I was just thinking—” you shut your binder, “—this is the perfect place to chuck water balloons at people.”

Tara looked at the edge before returning her eyes to you. “Damn, I should’ve thought of that first,” she said with a reluctant smile. You could see her dimples. She looked… radiant—

“—Don’t beat yourself up,” you said with a wink, edging her on.

She laughed. “Yeah, whatever. You can get back to your dumb binder now.”

You laid one of your hands over your heart. “My binder is not dumb. It keeps things organized and neat.”

“It also keeps girls away,” she stated.

“Your sister doesn’t seem to mind,” you were quick to counter with.

Tara immediately shoved your shoulder. “Can you not?”

“The heart wants what it wants,” you joked.

“You know what?” She stood up. “I’m going inside. Climb your way down for all I care.“

It wasn’t until she shut the door that her words sunk in.

“Wait—what?”

Did the door just click?

You walked up to the door before trying to open it. You turned and shook the handle, but it was no use. 

“She locked me out on the fuckin’ roof.”

—

Tara knocked your apartment door three times. The door opened to reveal Anika. 

“Hey, Tara. What’s up?” she greeted her with a smile.

Tara reciprocated Anika’s smile before responding. “Hey—I think I left my headphone charger here the last time I was over. Could I take a look around?”

“Of course, come in.” Anika opened the door wider, giving room for Tara to walk in.

She walked over to the couch before digging her hands between the cushions. 

“So, you and Y/N seem to be doing a lot of stuff together,” Anika began to comment in the background.

“Hm?” Tara hummed with raised eyebrows. “Oh, that? I guess so. Everybody else in our class has buddied up for any future stuff, so we got stuck together.” 

She felt the edges of her charger but she couldn’t quite grasp it. 

“Oh? I thought you two finished your group project last week,” Anika said, walking over to the kitchen but still within earshot of Tara.

“Yeah, well—“ Tara huffed, her finger tips only grazing her charger, “—our professor seems to be a fan of group work, and I only sit through study sessions so I can copy her notes.”

Anika laughed a little. “Interesting.”

Y/N never lets me copy her notes, she’s so stingy, Anika thought to herself.

At last, Tara finally got a hold of her charger. “Finally,” she sighed.

“Where is she anyway?” Tara inquired while putting away her charger. 

“Away this weekend, visiting family in Brooklyn,” Anika said as she walked back into the living room with two water bottles. She wordlessly handed one to Tara. 

“Oh,” was all the Carpenter replied as she took the water bottle and silently thanked her.

“Did you need something from her?”

Tara shook her head. “No, just curious.”

Anika gave her a subtle look of skepticism. “Alright then. Wanna stay for a bit? I was just gonna put on a movie.” 

“Sure, a movie sounds great.” She then sat down on the couch and Anika joined her. 

Thirty minutes into the movie and Tara’s train of thought kept returning to a certain station. It was extremely frustrating. Even in your absence you were a nuisance. Clearly she wasn’t used to going this long without annoying you. 

But what’s stopping her?

She took out her phone and was quick to press on your contact. 

Tara (1:34 pm) u didnt tell me ud be out of twn

Dork (1:36 pm) Oh, sorry, mom. I wasn’t aware I had to tell you my every move 

Tara (1:36 pm) apoldgy accepted.

Tara (1:37 pm) enjoyg brklyn?

Dork (1:38 pm) Your horrendous typing aside, how do you know where I am?

Tara (1:38 pm) i have my sorces also 🖕

Dork (1:39 pm) Wow. You’re obsessed with me

Tara (1:39 pm) am not

Dork (1:40 pm) Sure, my little stalker 

Tara (1:40 pm) ur so annoying

Tara (1:41 pm) shoulsnt u be w family rn?

Dork (1:41 pm) I’m currently hiding in the bathroom 

Of course she is… Tara thought with a smile.

After an hour, Tara was still staring at her phone; she smiled as she typed away, letting a few giggles slip every now and then. Anika would occasionally look over at Tara with a curious look. She may or may not have had a hunch as to who Tara was messaging.

Anika’s own phone rang with a message from her girlfriend. “Hey, Tara—” Tara looked up from her phone for the first time in almost two hours, “—Mindy and the others are gonna come over in a bit for a movie night. You staying?”

“Sounds good,” Tara said before returning her attention to her phone.

Tara could admit to herself, and herself only, that she missed it a little; your back and forths, the petty comments and insults you would throw at each other. You being a dork throughout it all was just a bonus. But she didn’t miss you—oh, no, that would mean she actually cared for you. And she doesn’t, she could never. You were nothing but a nuisance, and if she wanted to use that for her own entertainment that was her own right.

Mindy and Chad arrived about twenty minutes later. Tara didn’t get up from the couch, only sparing a few greetings. Mindy noticed the lack of focus which led her to tilt her head at her girlfriend, raising an eyebrow. 

Anika shook her head. “Don’t bother. She’s been like this the entire time.”

Those words were all it took for the teasing to begin.

Mindy sat down on the couch, across from Tara, with Anika in her lap. “So, Tara, who is she?” Mindy smirked.

Tara looked up at her friend with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Who’s the girl that’s glued you to your phone?” 

Tara nervously chuckled before responding. “That’s ridiculous—you sound ridiculous.”

“Woah, getting pretty defensive there, T. Wait a minute… Is it someone we know?” As Mindy narrowed her eyes at the girl, Tara looked away with an eye roll. “Shit, it is.”

“There’s no girl. There’s no anybody.” Tara was too busy forming a defense to notice Chad peeking from behind her.

“The contact name says ‘Dork,’” Chad revealed.

“Chad!” Tara quickly flipped her phone over.

Anika and Mindy shared a look and a not so subtle smirk. “Anything you would like to share with the class?”

Tara looked between them, a pout forming on her face. “Chad’s a nosy prick and I’m hungry.” She stood up and grabbed her jacket off of the coat rack. “I’m going to the store.”

“Get me something too, lover girl!” Mindy called out.

“You’re not getting shit!” Tara called back before slamming the door shut.

—

“Are you ever going to quit?” Tara said.

You refused to meet her gaze as she stared up at you with her big doe eyes. “No.”

Tara groaned.

It was Friday and Tara was over at your apartment to work on another assignment with you. This, inevitably, meant that you two were doing your typical bickering. 

“If you call me short one more time—”

You finally met her gaze. “Why? It’s true.”

“You don’t have to obnoxiously point it out every chance you get.” She rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that afternoon before putting her book down.

“But it’s so fun.” You couldn’t help but smirk at her unamused expression.

“But it’s so fun,” Tara repeated, changing the pitch of her voice to mock you.

You wore your own unamused expression. “I sound nothing like that.”

“You sure about that raspy?”

You scoffed, almost chuckling. “Whatever, I’m getting water.” You stood up and walked over to the kitchen. 

“Maybe some tea while you’re at it,” Tara said.

“Maybe I can get you some milk. I heard it helps with growth,” you said as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and then one of the juice boxes next to it. You walked back to where you were previously sitting with Tara, placing the juice box in front of her before sitting a couple cushions over.

“What’s this?”

You were confused. “What do you mean?”

“What’s this?” she repeated, gesturing to the juice.

“Juice, clearly.” 

How does she know my favorite brand of juice? It’s probably just a coincidence. That’s all. A coincidence. 

“Earth to Ms. Carpenter.” You gently poked her shoulder. “Are we doing this or…?”

“You got somewhere else to be?” she asked mockingly.

“Yes; a stupid date I should’ve never agreed to. Now let’s—”

Tara blinked a few times before cutting you off. “You have a date? I find that hard to believe.”

“Did you come here to talk about my dating life or to work on our assignment?”

She reluctantly turned her head back to her book and mumbled, “Whatever.”

After you two finally finished, you closed your book before standing up, stretching and digging. “Alright. I’m gonna change; you can stay here and do whatever,” you said. You then walked to your room to get ready, Tara never looking up at her phone, only humming in response. 

Since she would be hanging with Anika and others later, she figured she would stay at your apartment until they arrived. After fifteen minutes of scrolling through social media, the door to your bedroom opened and footsteps followed. That’s when Tara look up and at you, taking in your appearance.

You certainly caught her attention.

“I’m off,” is all you said as you grabbed your keys. 

“Y-you don’t look like shit—by the way,” Tara suddenly stammered. 

She wasn’t one for giving you compliments, so her words caused you to turn around with bewilderment.

“Thank you?” You still felt caught off guard as left the apartment.

Tara cupped her cheeks the moment you left, silently pleading the heat rushing to her face wasn’t visible. 

—

You spared yet another fake laugh at what your date considered to be jokes. The only agreed to this because it made a good distraction and Henry had a friend to set up. 

Yet all set you up for was boredom.

Seriously, Henry. An accountant? you bitterly thought as you feigned another smile. 

You don’t know how much longer you could bear hearing about financial mumbo jumbo. Your date needed to find better topics before you died of boredom. Henry had to pay for this. You were never going to go against your anti-blind date rule again. 

Eventually, the date finally came to an end around ten. In your opinion, it didn’t end soon enough. When you stood in front of you apartment's door, you could already hear laughter on the other side. You silently groaned before entering your key.

You immediately felt eyes on you, but you chose not to reciprocate. You just ignored them and made a beeline to your room. You were too busy raising the volume of your headphones to the highest setting to hear Mindy’s teasing remarks.

She nudged Tara’s side. “No wonder she had you all tongue tied when we got here.”

Tara shoved her elbow away. “I was not tongue tied.”

“You were having a full on gay crisis—“ Chad began but Tara cut him off by chucking a die at him. “Um, ow?”

“I did not have a gay crisis! Especially not over Y/N freaking Y/L/N,” she argued.

Anika smirked, joining in. “I briefly remember you pacing back and forth. 

“Was not! I-I was just a little confused about something, but I’m fine now,” Tara managed to get out through the nerves creeping over her. The same heat from hours ago was beginning to rush through her again. 

“I think—“ Ethan was cut off by Mindy raising her hand at him.

“You’re deflecting, T,” she said instead.

Tara blew a raspberry. “Nuh uh,” she said with childish conviction. “Roll the fucking dice Ethan.”

Ethan immediately started shaking the dice in his hands before rolling them. 

Mindy’s look of skepticism never ceased. “Fine, have it your way, but know I will get to the bottom of this.”

“There’s nothing to figure out.” Tara crossed her arms as Mindy narrowed her eyes at her, although she dropped the topic for the time being.

The entire time they were there, you stayed in your room. You laid down in your bed, blasting music through headphones with your arms crossed. Your shoes had been kicked off and you were currently in your pajamas. You may go deaf by fifty, but loud music was good. It was your white noise, a distraction. 

Some may claim your coping mechanisms were unhealthy, but they were your own. 

But does it truly count if you aren’t coping at all?—

You suddenly heard knocks at your bedroom door, so you pulled off your headphones. 

From the other side, Anika inquired, “Wanna join us for pizza? We’re going out.”

“No, thanks,” you were quick to respond before putting your headphones back on. 

Anika returned to the living room and sat back down on her girlfriend’s lap. “She’s a no-go.”

“Mkay. When do you guys wanna leave? I’m starving,” Chad said, rubbing his stomach.

“You’re always starving,” Mindy remarked.”

—

The next day, you were beaten by Tara to class, surprisingly. You slept through your alarm, it was the first time you had gotten a decent night’s rest in weeks.

I’ll take the win, you figured. 

Tara gave you a single glance before looking back to the front of the classroom. “You’re later than usual,” she said, still not looking at you. 

“Was up late, thinking about your sister,” you said, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh.

“You’re disgusting.”

After hours of passing notes and having unnecessary side arguments with Tara, class finally ended. The moment you left, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, the figure began to effortlessly walk with you. 

“Sooo, how was your date?” You heard Henry ask. 

“Shitty and extremely boring,” said with a tone that matched the unimpressed look you gave him. “He wouldn’t stop talking about financial junk, and then the stupid pilsners came into play—as if that would grease up the evening.”

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry… Oh! If you wanna try again there this—“

You cut him off. “No, no, no. I’m not doing this again,” you said while gesturing with one of your hands.

“You’re never forgiving for this, are you?”

You sighed. “You are never allowed to set me up again. Ever.”

“Yup. That sounds about right.” He dropped his arm from around your shoulder. “I gotta head to class but I’ll see you around.” You bumped fists before he made his way to his class.

Once classes were over, you started your shift at the cafe you worked at. It was a slow day, so you just focused on the wiping down the counters until someone walked in. 

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say. You looked up from the counter to see one of your regulars wearing a charming smile.

“Hey,” you repeated. “The usual?” you asked as you turned around to the coffee maker behind you.

“You know me too well,” she lightly laughed. “Not many people today, huh?” she said as she looked around.

“Yeah. You caught me on a slow day.” You put a lid on her drink before giving it to her.

She thanked you before taking out her wallet. You opened your mouth to say something but she was quick to cut you off. “I don’t wanna hear it. Let me get this one, I don’t need this coming out of your check.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed and smiled. You took the money from her and placed it in the register. “But how else am I supposed to show you you’re my favorite regular?”

She put a few bills in the tip jar. “Don’t worry, honey, I know. See you later.” She waved, winking at you, before leaving.

“See ya, Lottie,” you mustered up just before the door shut behind her. You didn't miss the sly smile on her face, possibly at seeing you scramble to say goodbye. 

“What was that?”

Anika’s voice caused you to jump. “Jeez, Anika. A little warning next time?”

“You would’ve noticed us if you weren’t busy flirting with your regular. I didn’t know you had a thing for mil—“

“Wait—what do you mean ‘us’?”

Anika turned, discreetly pointing at a table where Mindy, Tara, Chad and Ethan sat.

“Oh, wonderful. She knows where I work.”

“You expect her to put a hit on you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” you mumbled.

“You two can be so immature,” she said.

“Are you here for coffee or judgment day?” you sarcastically asked in a dry voice. 

“I can multitask,” she said before ordering. 

Not long after, Anika returned to her table with drinks and pastries. “Here we are,” she said while giving out everyone’s orders. 

Mindy kissed her cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

Anika smiled back at her girlfriend. “Anytime, babe.”

Tara simply sipped her coffee, thinking to herself, before speaking up. “Who was Y/N talking to?” she asked Anika.

“One of her regulars. They’re always flirting, not that even Y/N’s aware of that,” Anima responded. 

A smirk played on Mindy’s face. “You jealous, T?”

Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You sound ridiculous.” She immediately hushed down her tone. “And can you lower your voice?” she pleaded while slightly leaning in.

They all subconsciously looked over at you; you were wiping down the counter with your headphones in. 

“Ah hah.” Mindy pointed a finger at Tara. “I knew there was something.”

Tara lazily pushed Mindy’s finger to the side. “There’s nothing to know. Jeez, a girl can’t be curious anymore.”

“I don’t know. It does seem pretty—“

“Well nobody asked you, Chad, and come on, all I did was tell her she didn’t look like shit. You’re all reaching.”

“Oh, am I? Remember that dream you told me about, the one where—“

Tara’s eyes widened at Mindy. “Don’t you dare say another word. Besides, that dream meant nothing. It was just a dream.”

Mindy gave her an incredulous look 

“If I may—“ Ethan started, but Tara finished for him.

“No. You may not."

“Haven't you two also been doing, like, a bunch of study sessions?” Mindy raised an eyebrow.

“All a ploy to copy her notes.”

“Is flirting a part of the plan?” Anika rhetorically asked, giving Tara the feeling of betrayal.

“Traitor,” Tara mumbled.

“So, you don’t deny flirting?” Chad couldn’t hide his smirk.

“You’re really no help,” Tara said as she got up from her seat. “I’m leaving. I’m done being interrogated.”

“See you, lover girl,” Mindy said to Tara who was flipping them off as she left. 

What was Tara thinking? The next time she needs to know what her dream meant, she’s going to Google.

-----------

A/N: Da nile is a river in Egypt

(EDIT) A/N: You have my word that chapter four's rewrite won't take nearly as long

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-ten

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I don't think you guys understand how broken this gif made us. Fuck, creating it killed me! Also, during the hotel scene, listen to snuff by slipknot. It's on the playlist! Some eggs from other songs on the playlist throughout the chapter as well! Enjoy my loves!

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here

NICK R.

My heart raced as Jolly and I met each other in the dimly lit hotel hallway, sleep still heavy in our eyes and bones. When he called me a few minutes ago, I rushed out of bed where I was crashing in Matt’s room and knew that it could have been about one thing.

Noah.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jolly ran a hand over his exhausted face. “I don’t know. I haven’t walked inside yet and I’m afraid of what I’m going to see.”

“Y/N. He kicked me out earlier tonight because she was coming by,” I said, remembering suddenly.

“Shit,” Jolly cursed before nodding behind me towards Folio. “No matter what we walk into, we don’t judge him. Whatever happened fucked him up enough that he needs to write a song at three in the morning.”

Folio agreed. “How bad is he?”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

Jolly turned towards the door and knocked gently.

“Yeah.”

The voice that called back was not Noah; this voice sounded broken, and distant, with the single word that was uttered.

“It’s me,” Jolly spoke through the door.

Realizing that Noah was most likely not in a state to answer the door, I handed Jolly my room key and we all sucked in a breath when the light on the lock turned green; us walking into the room one at a time. There was music playing, soft beats echoing off the wall, and I hoped no one would complain to the front desk about the noise.

My bed was still as I left it but Noah’s bed was disheveled with a pair of underwear that clearly weren’t his and a small piece of what I expected was a condom wrapper. Noah’s original clothes from earlier that evening were on the floor at the edge of the bed.

Shit.

Noah was on the floor leaning against the wall with a bottle of Hennessy in hand, more than half gone, and his hair was in a disarray of braids.

“Noah,” Jolly said quietly while bending down in front of him.

He waved a hand in front of his face as his head bobbed slowly. “I’m good, man. I just wanted to get this beat down. It’s in my head.”

“She wouldn’t stay, would she?” I questioned while motioning towards the bed.

“Didn’t need to. Jus’ friends. ‘S’all it’s come to. She didn’t need to and I don’t really fucking care. I don’t. No sweat off ma back,” he finished the rest of the bottle before letting it slip from his fingers. “I’m fine. F.I.N.E.”

The three of us shared a painful wince as he spelled out the word two more times.

As if whoever was watching over us from above, just then that specific song by Too Close To Touch came blasting through the small portable speaker Noah always brought with.

“See?” Noah pointed to the air around him. “Even fucking Keaton is telling you guys I’m fine.”

But then, he slammed his head against the wall behind him as his bottom lip trembled, his chest caving in at hearing his best friend's voice play throughout the room. Noah was only rubbing more salt in his wounds and fuck, they burned.

“Why the fuck aren’t you here, man?” he choked out. “You knew her better than us. What did I do? Why’d she leave?”

Keaton’s name felt like ice in our hearts and I knew it was a stabbing pain through Noah’s chest.

“Whatever,” Noah grumbled, wiping angrily at his face. “Her decision; bad decision. Fuck her. I need to write.”

“Noah, come on, don’t say shit you’re gonna regret,” Folio spoke. “You can’t write when you’re drunk. You know that.”

“M’not. She jus’ my good friend. I fucking knew I wasn’t enough for her.”

He was far gone, not even realizing that Folio and I stood behind Jolly, our own somber expressions weighing heavily on our faces.

Finally, his eyes opened and when he saw all three of us, Noah groaned.

“Oh, great ya called them?” He pointed towards us. “I don wanna hear I told you so, erm stubborn. Yadayadsa.”

His words slurred together, stumbling over his tongue.

Folio peered around the room, counting the empty bottles. “I’m counting two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Apparently he’s been sitting here awhile.”

“You know I can’t stay; you deserve better than me,” Noah chuckled, imitating Y/N’s voice.

Jolly peered over his shoulder at us and his lips were pulled in a tight line, all of us thinking the same thing.

“Noah” I sighed with my hands on my hips.

His head snapped up, eyes red with tears so close to falling but they wouldn’t. Noah was always in control of his emotions; he refused to cry in front of us.

“She told me what I felt, she told me what I wanted and what I didn’t. Didn’t give me a fucking say about anything before she walked the fuck out. Left. Gone,” he rambled on.

“She’s going through-,” Folio started.

“Fuck that,” Noah seethed with clenched fists in his lap. “I don’-don’t care right now, in this moment. She fucking stole my heart and took it with ‘er. Jus’ friends.”

The last two words sounded bitter on his tongue, like acid.

While we let him wallow in the pain, I motioned for Jolly and Folio to walk to the other side of the room, out of earshot from Noah.

“Should we ask Malcom or Chase what the fuck happened?” Jolly asked.

“Do you think she told them?” Folio wondered.

I shrugged while crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t doubt that. She likes him, we know she does. It’s clear.”

“Then why did she leave?” Jolly questioned, his own pain for Noah making his jaw clench. “What the fuck happened to make her leave?”

I gazed over to Noah, my heart falling into my stomach at the broken sight of my brother. “He jumped. He jumped but Y/N wasn’t there yet.”

The three of us made a quick plan of action before Jolly and Folio went to help Noah up off the floor, his limp body dragging on the floor.

“Noah let’s get into bed,” Folio suggested.

“No. I need to finish this beat, and these fuckin’ lyrics in my head,” he pushed himself away from them, standing on two shaky feet but standing. He smacked his forehead over and over.

Jolly nodded. “We will, but first you need to get some sleep.”

He glared at the bed in front of him, a mess of the decision they made together.

“…the pillow.. she was on that one,” Noah pointed. “It smells like that fucking perfume, I don-wanna inhale that shit right now.”

There was so much venom in his voice when he spoke about Y/N and there was a part of me that hoped this wouldn’t last long. He had every right to be upset with her; he gave her his heart, and she walked away.

“Alright, then let’s get you some sleep in mine,” I said.

He licked his lips, an unreadable look flashing in bloodshot eyes. “I still fucking taste her. It’s a poison that I should have fucking avoided.”

“Can’t help you with that, brother,” Folio tried to joke.

No one laughed

“No. I need to finish this-,” Noah stumbled over to his suitcase to snatch a piece of paper and pen, something he always kept on him.

I stepped in front of him to hold him steady, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It was as if it was trying to break free to chase after Y/N; just for her to stomp on it again.

No, I shook my head, you can’t let your own anger deter you from trying to fix Noah. You can be angry about the situation but not her. It’s no one's fault.

“You don’t like to write when you’re not home,” I tried to take the pen and paper away from him.

“I don’ care nicKLas.” He pushed past me to fall onto his bed, ass first on the pillow. “I have to, right now.”

Sensing the sudden thick tension, not knowing what the next thing would be that would set him off, Jolly gave a slow nod toward Noah.

“Alright. Let it go, man. Let us hear it.”

Even though they weren’t written down, Noah still burned his gaze into the empty page in front of him. Through the slurred words, the ache that poured out of him brought chills to my bones.

“How quick it gets lonely here at the top. Her skin feels unholy but I’m still drawn. The morals I’m holding, you know they’re gone.”

Fuck, that was good.

Noah’s eyes snapped over to us. “Why aren’t you helping me get down this beat?”

I held my arms out to the empty room. “We don’t have our stuff here Noah, this isn’t usually how we do this.”

“Fuck,” he ran a shaky hand over his chin. “Ok well then here! Voice clip it.”

While he tossed his phone to Jolly, who barely caught it in time, I gave Folio a look of luck before slipping out of the room, almost running into Matt who stood at the open doorway.

“Who the fuck is blasting Snuff by Slipknot at four in the morning?” He asked with fury.

No doubt someone called the front desk and complained who in turn complained to Matt.

“Woah, what the fuck is going on right now?” Matt took a tentative step into the room, eyeing the situation.

“Didn’t you hear, fucker?” Noah whipped his head towards us so fast, that the braids smacked around his face. “She ran away, she’s the fuckin same.”

He hiccuped a sob. “Angels lie to keep control.”

“Fuck's sake,” Jolly pinched his nose with a sigh.

I gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep an eye on Noah, he’s not in a good place right now.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me-,” he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweater.

“Just- let me handle it man,” I slipped past him out of the room and quick steps took me to the elevator.

I bounced on the soles of my feet as I repeatedly pushed the down floor button and cursed when the doors finally opened. Blackness took over as I let the images of Noah sitting there broken carry me to the room, hand pounding on the door.

Time be damned. I couldn't care less if she was asleep right now. How could she be asleep while my best friend, my brother, was fucking dying on the inside?

Not again. I refused to let him sink for another.

“Nick?” Chase squinted with the sudden light blasting in from the hallway. “Everything alright?”

“Where is she?”

He continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes. “Who? Y/N?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Is she here?”

I tried to peer past him but only saw someone with auburn curls walk behind Chase, leaving a gentle hand on his back. “What’s going on?”

“Nick’s looking for Y/N,” Chase informed Malcolm.

He stared at me confused. “Last I heard she was going to hang out with Noah. Did something happen?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I snapped but then let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole but she left. Noah’s a fucking wreck. It seemed like they had a great time- so what’s the deal? I thought she cared for him. Why, why would she hurt my friend?”

I was the middle child, great at negotiating, great at being the middle man. The one who would try to settle things. I was on Noah’s side with this one, she’s my friend, but he’s my brother. Even I didn’t see this coming. I tried to remain neutral when I asked them and tried not to look annoyed.

“Dude- she does, she cares for him a lot,” Malcolm spoke while tying up his curls. “Noah makes her so happy. We haven’t seen her glow like that in years, I just- I don’t know. We don’t know why she would leave. Unless…”

Chase quickly pushed Malcolm back into the room slightly. “Dude, no. That’s not our business to tell. She has to be the one to decide.”

“What?!” I asked.

They knew something, and I needed to know; right now.

“That’s her business, not ours,” Chase said, rubbing his head.

“What?,” I scoffed. “Is she fucking dying or something? Is she okay?”

“No, no, she’s fine. All I’ll say is she does things in her life that can require extra attention. But like I said, that’s not for us to discuss, even with you man, sorry,” he pauses and says again. “Is he- is Noah alright?”

“Honestly? No. He isn’t, he’s drunk and writing right now. He’s gonna feel like hell when we have to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

Malcolm sighed. “I’m sorry dude. When Y/N comes back, we’re going to have to have a long talk. We know she cares for your friend, Nick. Her heart is in the right place- we just don’t know where the hell her mind is. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and smile slightly, in agreement. My eyes want to convey a lot more. Y/N’s a good person, but she broke my friend's heart tonight. This is why I was so hesitant about this relationship with him and Y/N. I warned Noah not to jump yet, but he did.

All I could do right now until she came back was nod a quick thanks to them and hope that Y/N would confide in them. I wanted to fix my friend's broken soul so often, and so often I tried and succeeded. I wasn’t sure I could with this one- I needed to let them go through this on their own. But I’ll be damned if I let my friend suffer.

“Alright well, let me know what you find out, please.”

“Absolutely, anytime man. We’ll talk,” Chase reassured with a nod, Malcolm bumping fists with mine.

When I made it back to Noah’s room, I noticed the guys huddled around Noah’s slumped body in the bed, clutching the pillow Y/N laid on close to his chest, snoring loudly, and another empty bottle of Hennessy next to him.

“Shit,” I breathed. “Another one?”

Matt sighed defeated. “We tried, man. But his strength when he’s drunk and angry is something not to mess with. You know that.”

I nodded because I knew that. All too well.

“He only fell asleep about five minutes ago. I don’t know how we’re going to get him up in two hours so we can make our flights,” Folio wondered.

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured them. “Did he finish writing?”

“Yeah,” Matt slowly went towards the end of the bed, gently pulling the book from under Noah’s arm; pen falling from his hands.

“What does it say?” My brows raised as I took the paper in my hands; my brothers' broken words staring back at me.

Bitter ends to the nights. I’m along for the ride. Out of breath, out of time. Everything has a price. You can be all I got, what’s the difference? Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions. All I know, all I know is bad, bad decisions.

“Gotta admit, it’s fucking good,” Jolly said while he read the lyrics over my shoulder.

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

Folio yawned loudly while stretching, exhausted body falling onto my bed. “Get ready boys because once we’re home, we won’t have a moment of peace. We’re writing a new record.”

NICK R.

You could cut the tension with a knife in this boarding gate right now.

The sun barely broke through the thick glass of the windows as Bad Omens and Hollow Souls sat on other ends of the gate, waiting for our flights to be called. With tired but intent eyes, I watched Noah as he kept his eyes cast down to his hands, fingers intertwining with each other as he picked away the black nail polish. It was as though it was his subconscious way of chipping pieces of Y/N away, the way he washed his hands in the restroom earlier, scrubbing her off him.

His nails were surely, going to bleed if he kept picking at them, I wanted to intervene, say stop that. I needed him to process his feelings. I so badly wanted to scream in this airport, wake the fuck up, to them both. But I kept my reservations.

And just like him, Y/N looked rough. It was clear neither of them, or well any of us got any sleep last night.

Where the fuck did they go so wrong together?

Noah had been a fan of hers ever since that night on my pull-out couch but the first time they met each other almost 2 months ago, their eyes were bright with a vibrant gaze. Almost like searchlights attempting to find something. The lights found it, but they were almost too intense, almost like bystanders. Through all the confusion, I knew deep within me it wouldn’t be long until the searchlights were searching again, just a matter of when.

Us?

We weren’t allowed to see what was being found. We should have looked away, and avoided the crash. But to see them now, those same eyes swollen, discolored and raw red, the blood vessels wanting to leave their faces made it harder to look away.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, now out of the braids and cascading around his shoulder, and let his eyes graze over towards Y/N, who was resting her head against Chase's shoulder. It was brief, the look of agony in them, but he looked away before she could catch him.

The airline called out for Vegas first; Chase and Y/N’s flight. Then our flight back home to LA was called out seconds later.

Those two sets of eyes, continue to gaze and plead and beg until their shoulders are tapped, Jolly to Noah and Chase to Y/N. As he stood, Noah adjusted the bag on his shoulder and waved his fingers in a peace sign toward the three members of Hollow Souls. This wasn’t how we wanted our new friendships and tour to end.

He wants to be in her life. He still does, otherwise, he wouldn’t have done that. I thought to myself as I noticed Y/N gave her one peace sign to all of us.

She’s sorry, she wants him in her life and regrets it.

I could fucking see it. This was going to be a long ride with these two.

As we all stood with our carry-on bags, ready to walk towards our gate, I gave Chase a knowing nod who immediately pulled out his phone, avoiding the eyes of Y/N, to send me a message.

I’ll tell you everything

Noah slept the entire flight, not speaking a word or even opening his eyes. Now, as we pulled up to the house he said with Jolly, Orie, Michael, and Jesse, Noah still had yet to say one word. Folio offered to stay with but we knew he had someone to meet back home in Virginia so we told him we had it from here.

“You sure?” Folio asked before we boarded the plane.

I nodded. “Yeah, go back to Virgina. Tell her we said hey.”

I, on the other hand, was a different story.

“I’m not going home right now,” I told Noah as I set my bags down in their living room. They had little extra space, but I didn’t care. I’d sleep on the couch as long as I was near my brother. “I won’t leave you in this state, Noah.”

“Nick, I’m a grown man. I’ll be alright,” he sighed while popping open the bottle of aspirin, and swallowing two pills dry.

For the hangover.

“I know you are,” I nodded. “Just let me be there for you, okay?”

NOAH

If it wasn’t terrible enough that not only did my fucking love life shut down, but the world had to as well?

Two months. It’s been almost two months since the tour ended and this pandemic took over the world, forcing us to stay stuck inside. While the rest of the guys went stir-crazy after the first few weeks, I spent the solace writing, drinking, and trying to forget about her.

The latter lasted only a few minutes once we returned home; her scent being stained into my skin, her touch engraved deep into my bones it made it hard to get out of bed. I see her in all my mirrors. Her reflection was haunting me relentlessly like a ghost.

Hennessy and Jack have become my friends in the last few weeks at home. I knew the guys were worried; I didn’t need them to worry. I was fine.

Y/N and I are friends.

Right, then how come you haven’t texted her in weeks?

Because she’s been busy with the move, I retorted back to my own thoughts.

Malcolm texted our Hollow Omens group chat to let us know that Y/N was settling in nicely in their new apartment in Los Angeles. We can come by anytime for a housewarming party but immediately I ignored that. Wouldn’t it be fucking awkward?

Trey wasn’t home when she and Chase showed up to pack her things so they could leave without incident.

Even with her cat Salem.

Chase sent a few pictures of the cat in the group chat, long black fur lying on his chest. I never responded, simply liking the messages before setting my phone on silent the rest of the night. I noticed that Y/N rarely ever responded in the chat as well, only when Chase or Malcolm would ask her something but she would only reply with emojis or a short ‘ok.’

The pandemic was only getting started and I could feel the suffocation kick in. I felt alone; utterly alone. I put all my heart into this one woman, a woman I yearned for, for a long time.

The loud ringing of the doorbell pulled me from my melancholy thoughts and I sighed, almost forgetting I ordered food an hour ago. I was in such a trance I hadn’t realized the noise of the loud bell eased me out of my rocking back and forth on the couch.

I didn’t even notice I did that.

I took a massive swig of my jack and clenched my teeth as it burned all the way down my throat, heart racing a mile a minute.

Calm down, calm down.

Time slowed, or passed by in a blaze? I wasn’t sure the longer I sat in the somewhat dark living room, open but untouched food container on the table in front of me as the chicken scratch of my handwriting teased back at me.

Why’s this always gotta happen to me? I should have known. I never fail to never learn from mistakes, still throwing stones. Blood signed, we made it a pact. Yours dried out; you took it back.

The alcohol was like battery acid as I took another large swing of Jack but it wasn’t kicking in strong enough. I kept swinging until the burn covered up my pain.

Harper’s soft whines from her perch next to me on the couch pulled at my heartstrings so knowing Orie wasn’t here, I fed her a few pieces of my cold dinner.

The front door opened, voices carrying from the entryway into the living room and my heart hammered with the panic of them seeing me like this. I hid the bottle under the pillow and tossed the small bag into the garbage from my food.

“Shit, Noah. Why are you sitting in the dark?” Jolly asked while turning on the lamp next to the sofa I was sitting on.

“Hi,” My voice was soft because now with the bright lights, the room was spinning.

“You working on another song?” He eyed the bottle that stuck out from behind the pillow, irritation in his eyes.

They matched my own.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. “Yes, man, what do you think?”

“Don’t be hostile, go eat and let me look over it,” Jolly motioned to my food while he reached for the pad of paper.

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” I snapped while reaching for it before he could.

“Noah, you gotta eat so you don’t get hungover. Let me look at the song,” he took the pad of paper and walked over to the other side of the room. Once he fell into the chair in the corner of the room, Jolly nodded up at me. “Fucking eat, Noah”

I sighed and grabbed my food to chew slowly, “Okay Dad”

Jesse stalked into the living room a few moments later while stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Nick said there might be news of the ban lifting completely by the end of the month. Which means we can get a change of scenery. Might be good for us.”

Holy Hades, this is one of those times I wished I lived alone.

Shortly after getting back home, the pandemic started and Nick ended up getting stuck with us in LA. He didn’t mind, more time for us to hang and chill, but now that procedures were lifting slowly at a time, he took the first opportunity to fly back to Virginia to get things settled there.

“Hey,” Jesse sat on the arm of Jolly’s chair. “Is this another song?”

Even though my head was throbbing with the ongoing hangover, I leaned back into the couch while nodding and Harper now rested her whole body in my lap. “It’s the third one.”

“Oh? Nice! Let me see” He began flipping through the pages.

Normally, I’d jump and take the book from his hands, but right now this room was in spirals. I was sick to my knees. All I wanted to do was call her, and have her tell me it’ll be fine. But I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, and she wasn’t ready to talk to me either.

Clearly.

Malcolm texted me the other day, outside of the Hollow Omens group chat to tell me that Y/N wasn’t doing okay and she missed me. She wanted to talk to me and wanted us over one night when the bans were lifted. But if that was the truth, then how come the last text I had on my phone from her was right before she came to my hotel room that night?

Her unholy skin tasted like the forbidden fruit, all the morals we held that night gone. No gods, no religion. Just our bad decisions. Memories of the way she looked while on top of me burned into my brain and I couldn’t forget the way she felt coming undone.

It paralyzed me so much so that I left Malcolm on read for two days.

Thanks man, glad it worked out. Be in touch.

Snapping out of my drunken thoughts, I noticed Jesse was still reading the pages, not giving a damn I’m leaving my heart out on the table in front of him, bleeding all over while he was reading it.

“Bad Decisions. Nice,” Jesse nodded before flipping back to the new song I was working on. “Nowhere to go? Angsty. I like it.”

I shrugged and stopped mid-chew. “Yeah, I know. It’s what I do, Jesse.”

Arrogant? No, it was smart; I had to channel this shit somewhere. I knew this, no matter what, I’ll always write a fucking song. I wanted to panic, and I did, but the liquor was doing its job.

Jolly went to grab the guitar while Jesse moved to the couch, Harper now lying in his lap.

Traitor.

As I reached for the bottle of Jack this time, Jolly hastily ripped it from my hands and to exhausted to fight, I let him.

“No. Let’s add a chorus to Nowhere To Go, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, I got something in mind.” I took the notebook back to jot some more words down.

After a few moments, I read the entire thing a few times, making sure it was perfect before I gave it to him.

“Start with this?” He asked.

I nodded then soon, my thoughts became words into the air.

“Hear me out, I’m sorry, but I’m a little less than sold. I’ve been around, heard all the stories you said you never told. You’re used to speaking in tongues to feel like you’re in control. Now you’ve got nowhere to run, now you’ve got nowhere to go. Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice?”

“Fuck, that sounds amazing, Noah. Let’s finish this.” Jolly mused,

That night, we finished Bad Decisions and Nowhere to Go.

Folio

Noah began smoking weed again, on top of all the alcohol he’d been consuming the last few weeks, he was on a downward spiral. It was only in small doses but that’s how the drinking started; he took up this faux savior persona.

“I can save myself,” he’d say after one of us would bring up how worried we were about him.

It was a load of shit. Any of us could tell you that.

This was the first time I’d seen him since the tour ended, all those months ago, but time away did nothing to help his mental state. Noah was breaking, piece by piece, and now that the ban lifted, we could visit again. Hence Nick and I were hanging out in their living room, a soft beat of music playing on the speakers.

Noah came bounding down the stairs, smelling of whiskey and weed, eyes glassy, rosy, and filled with rage. His hands were full of ink as he’d been writing nonstop, with everlasting consistency.

As he cascaded, his stomps were harsh, and if he realized it, Noah didn’t give a shit. When he reached into the kitchen and slammed the cupboard door wide open, he grabbed a bag of pita chips with tight force, breaking a few chips no doubt.

“Why are these almost gone? I just fucking bought them?” He snapped with a smart-ass attitude.

All of us eyed each other wearily, unsure how or even if we should respond but it was Orie who muttered under his breath. “We had some with the hummus we bought earlier. Chill the fuck out, Noah. It’s not that deep.”

Noah tossed the bag onto the counter. “It is that deep when it's something of mine. Fucking ass if you want it. Why is it so hard for people to communicate?”

Michael, who usually was the quiet, almost forgotten one, finally snapped. “We’re being patient with you. But we’re not your fucking punching bag.”

Jolly’s head snapped over to Michael from his spot on the floor in front of the couch with wide eyes full of heat, I was sure vanilla ice cream would melt. Jolly was the one who let all of us know to take it easy on Noah; it was a hard time in his life, and the last thing he needed was one of us fighting with him.

Noah hadn’t spoken to Y/N in weeks and we could physically see the imaginary soul ties that bound them together withering away, even though they were within miles of each other now that she lived here. Miles apart but still couldn’t gain the fucking courage to grow up and speak to each other.

Michael sighed his apology while running a hand over his face. “We’re here for you, man. We’re being patient. But you can’t keep going on like this.”

“You’re drowning right now and the painful to watch, you haven’t been this bad in years. Let us help you,” Nick spoke with a shaky breath.

Out of all of us, it hurt him the most to see Noah like this because he’d seen it before; only this time it was worse.

“You can’t help me, nothing to help me with. I’m fine,” Noah shrugged before reaching for another beer.

“You’re in denial and it’s ridiculous,” I said, tired of seeing and hearing the same bullshit. “Noah, I think you should see someone.”

“A shrink? Seriously?” He snorted.

“I think it can help you, besides the way music does,” I offered.

“I don’t need you to help me, I just want the racing to stop. The racing in my mind going miles a minute,” He slammed a finger to the side of his head repeatedly. “We have so much shit to do, and I can’t see anything but what happened right now. It’s a fuckin loop in my brain. Everything just keeps glitching.”

Noah then paced the length of the kitchen, red sweater pulled tightly against his chest and hood over his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry man, I’m sorry I just- fuck” he spat, a tear fell out of his eye but was quick to wipe it away.

Vulnerability be damned

“We’re your friends, we love you. We were stuck in this fucking house together for months. We can’t go anywhere and you don’t want us to worry? Well, too fucking bad because we do,” Orie explained with a tense-looking Harper in his lap.

She didn’t like the sudden noise but didn’t want to leave her dad.

Noah’s glossy eyes took in all our faces one by one, lingering a few seconds longer than the last.

“I just need time, I don’t know how to handle this, it’s- it’s weird for me. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve fallen this hard, this fast,” he admitted while swallowing the lump in his throat.

That much was true. He’s had exes, one-night stands; hell, he’s been in love before- but I’ve never seen it develop this way. We’ve never seen him fall from such a high altitude this quickly. His guards are usually pointed like sharp knives, but it was so easy for him to dull them down for her.

I only hoped Y/N knew that. This was a big deal. I watched my friend crumble and crack like glass.

Time would only tell when they would repair the damage done here. I only hoped it would soon because we hated to see him bruise so easily. He’s right on the edge I fear, one more thing, one more thing and he’ll fall completely into a darkness we wouldn’t be able to pull him from.

“All I do is drink to numb the pain because all the good days we had together got taken away when my head turned on. I keep asking myself ‘why am I not good enough for her?’ How the fuck can I be good enough for her when I don’t even know what good enough is?”

None of us had an answer for him; the only one that did, he was purposely ignoring.

With a lone tear falling from his eyes, Noah wiped it away with the back of his hand, sniffles echoing in the kitchen.

“It’s so hard to watch myself win when a loser's all I've been.”

NOAH

I lay in my bed, neon glows emanating from behind my bed soaking the walls, as I stared up at the ceiling. My mind was racing so face in pace with my heart and I tried so hard to just breathe; fucking breathe to ease it. This pain was like a burning coal I was walking but within a second, all the pain was gone. I couldn’t take it anymore, the drinking, smoking, and not eating affected my health. I was skin on bones at this point.

Keaton's voice rang in my ears. “You’re a shell, Noah. Holding in these shattered nerves. A skeleton that's lost its skin and desperately wants back in.”

Tattooed hands covered my face as I blew a shaky breath into them.

“I need a sign from you, man. Give me something to know I haven’t messed it up yet,” I cried.

A second later, my phone buzzed from the spot on my bed, and through cloudy tears, I sucked in a breath when I saw Chase’s name appear with a new text.

Chase: Hey man, I haven’t heard from you the last few days, I wanted to check in with you. I know this may seem out of nowhere, but we’re worried about you and just hope you’re doing alright.

I stared up at the ceiling again, my heart relaxing its frenzied beat for a moment. “Thank you.”

Hey, all good. Sorry for the late reply. Appreciate it, doing just fine.

Chase: that’s great, but I’ve been hearing other things, so I don’t buy that. Look, again, this isn’t my place but I know Y/N hurt you that night. I can’t sit here and apologize on her behalf, but, I can at least tell you this: she isn’t doing well either; and as someone with two fucking eyes; I can see how much you mean to each other. Some birdies have been telling me you’re drinking yourself into a coma and acting a fool. I apologize for the harshness, but let me ask you this, do you think Y/N wants another Trey? You’re fucking better than that, aren’t you? Do you want to end up as another deadbeat musician with nothing to show for it but a bottle? No, I don’t know you that well but I can see you’re not that guy.

Do yourself a favor and do fucking better. Because she deserves better and so do you. So y’all can sort this soap opera shit out. Talk to you soon, I fucking hope. ✌️

With my phone clattering to the floor, the message left on read, I continued to lie in my bed; the pillow suffocating my mouth and nose.

“I’m not Trey. I’m fucking better than him,” I sat up quickly in bed, my hangover still raging inside my head.

Music is all I have, it’s all lived for-that was until I met her.

With the small get-together happening downstairs still, I ran to the bathroom across the hall to throw up any contents of lingering alcohol and pita chips. I washed my face and brushed my hair out, for the first time in weeks looking somewhat presentable.

“Get it together, you fucking dick.” I pointed a firm finger at my reflection in the mirror, thankful I didn’t see the ghost of Y/N staring back at me. “Do it for the band, do it for your music. Do it for her.”

To some, my shaky words might not have a strong belief but they did to me. It left me with the belief that miracles, no matter how inexplicable or unbelievable, are real and can occur without regard to the natural order of things. Keaton’s sign proved that.

“Just come back to me,” I whispered with trembling lips.

[me-loving-woso]

Rebuilding the Family aka Monthly visits Part 4

Hey! Okay, I know I have been MIA for more than two months, BUT you have to be proud of me because I finished another part of Monthly visits AND started part 2 of Bruises Apologies and Cookies. This is Part 4 of Monthly visits I hope you enjoy. It's not proofread but I wanted to give y'all something. These are the previous Chapters: Monthly visits, Meeting the Family, The Aftermath

“Alexia?” Your hand dropped from the door knob to your side. You were definitely surprised to see her.

“Hi.” She greets you shyly, so timidly that you can’t recognize her voice. You cross your arms, waiting for her to continue. “Is it a bad time? Should I come some other time? I can totally come tomorrow, maybe at a more decent time. I should go-“

“Alexia, slow down. You are rambling. Do you want to come in? This is your house too, and you might miss Nala.” You offer her. She gave you a shy smile and entered her home.

“I missed it here. The hotel room sucked.” She says tiredly, yawning. You could see from her face that she hadn’t slept much. You figured that she has probably been on the plane or in an airport these past two days.

“How long have you been awake?” You ask her worriedly while she kneels on the floor, reuniting with her dog after so much. 

She looks at her watch, which her father used to wear, “52 hours now.” She says, looking at you. “I missed you so much, Y/n. I’m really sorry about all of it. I know I have much explaining to do, and you probably have much, if not more, to say to me. But the last two days have been pretty intense. And I really need a hug, please.” She looks at you, nearly begging for it, with glassy eyes.

“Come here.” She puts down the little dog and almost runs towards you, putting her arms on your neck, trying to keep you as close as possible for at least a minute. 

“I’m really sorry. Do you hate me now?”

You remove her from your embrace, cupping her face. “I could never hate you, okay? Now, we have many things to discuss, and you, woman, you have a lot of making up to do. And not the sex type, okay?” You whisper, not wanting to wake up the kids. She puts her hands on top of yours and nods, pulling your foreheads together.

Then you push her, maybe a little too harshly, making her look at you extremely confused. “And this is because you went MIA for two days after storming out of a match. Power move, by the way. But you made me extremely worried. I nearly booked a flight to New Zealand because of you.” You point your finger at her.

“My phone died just before I went to the airport. I’m sorry if I worried you.” She apologizes, looking at the floor.

“I’ll text your mom, sister, and our teammates that you are safe, here with me.” She nods, yawning again.

“Alexia, you should go to sleep. You are exhausted.”

“But we have to talk; I need to make it right. I need-“She pleads.

“No buts. Now you go to sleep; tomorrow, when you are more rested, we will talk about everything, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll go to the hotel down the street and call you tomorrow?” She asks, hopeful. 

“Have you already booked the room?”

“What?”

“Have you already booked the room at the hotel?”

“No, I didn’t. Hopefully, they have a spare room for me.” She says, scratching her eyes, making you smile at her cuteness. You always loved it when she was tired. She was less composed and in control and more herself.

“Stay here.” You say earnestly. “I bet you miss your bed and old clothes; I just cleaned your favorite shirt, which you wear only on special occasions. Plus, this is your house, too. You shouldn’t sleep in a hotel.”

“Only if you are okay with it. And the kids, of course. How are they, by the way?”

“They are great; Ava misses you a lot.”

“Lucia?” 

“She’s a little mad that you left me and didn’t say goodbye to them. She’s just very protective, but she’ll come around. We’ll talk more about it later. Now go to sleep, Ale.”

She goes up the stairs but stops midway, “Aren’t you coming?”

“Do you want some company while you get ready to bed?” You joke.

“Always.” She smiles, making you go into the bedroom with her. While she goes in the shower, you sit on the edge of the bed, texting everyone that Alexia is here with you and there is nothing to worry about.

As soon as she leaves the bathroom, you see her with half-dried hair, only with some shorts and her shirt on. She goes on the edge of her part of the bed and gets inside the sheets, making you turn your body to look at her.

“Goodnight Alexia.” You stand up, not knowing what to do; it was the second time you didn’t sleep on the same bed, the first time being when you stole the keys to the pitch.

“Wait, where are you sleeping?”

“On the couch with Nala.”

“But I thought-“

“I can’t sleep with you, Alexia; we need to discuss what happened with Vilda and us. I’m still mad and hurt. So tomorrow, the kids will probably be out all morning, so that is when we’ll talk if that’s what you want.”

“That’s all I want.”

“Then it’s settled. Goodnight.” 

“Night.” You give her a last look, and then you go downstairs. 

-

The following day, you wake up early with an ache from sleeping on the couch all over your body. The first thing you do is to silently check on Alexia; you find her still sleeping, hugging your pillow. You leave her a note saying that you will be going soon and coming back in approximately an hour.

You bring Ava to Nico, who offered to take Ava out after yesterday’s casual visit from Alexia so that you could talk properly with her. Meanwhile, Lucia would be going to the pitch again because she wanted to start the season with Barcelona B prepared and in shape. You admired her dedication, even though you told her it was unnecessary. 

As soon as you got home, past 10 am, you found Alexia with a cup of coffee in her hand while she was scrolling through some news on her tablet; this felt very familiar, making you not know how to feel. This thought was soon interrupted by Nala, who ran to you, waiting for cuddles; this made Alexia turn around to you and smile.

“Good Morning.”

“Good Morning to you, too.” You picked up the dog and gave her some food, then went to the kitchen, putting the car keys on the countertop.

“If you want, there is some coffee left.” She informs you while you rummage through your cabinets, trying to find a mug. 

“I really missed your coffee.” You say, looking at her, sitting down in front of her, “You can’t cook for shit, but you always know how to make great coffee.”

“I can cook!” She says, offended.

“We both know that you can cook only two dishes.” You chuckle.

“Okay, that’s true.” She agrees, chuckling, then turning the conversation into a very awkward silence.

Both of you hated confrontation, so this was going to be interesting. You knew that you had to talk, or else you could risk losing each other, which neither of you was looking forward to, but simultaneously, you didn’t want to have any uncomfortable conversations.

“Y/-“

“Alex-“You both say at the same time, stopping, trying to make the other speak. This was going to be complicated.

“You go.” You offer.

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to apologize for everything. I’m so sorry. What I did was shitty and cowardly.” She says, keeping her face as open as possible.

“You just did what you felt was right at that moment. I mean, the timing was a little bad. Really bad. But you did what you thought was right.”

“I realized something while I was away.” 

“What?”

“I remember that some time ago, a really bad interviewer asked me who did I play for. Initially, I didn’t reply because I thought it was a weird question to ask, which completely discredits my career. But when I came home, I thought about it and realized I didn’t know. I know that when my dad died, I played for him and dedicated everything to him, and I still do. But somewhere along the way, I realized I don’t know anymore. Since I won the Ballon d’Or, everybody wanted to talk to me and wanted me to perform and play in a certain way. Still, after returning from my ACL, the expectations were even higher. How was I supposed to play freely when everybody wanted me to play another way? In all honesty, I was in some way jealous of you. You didn’t change, and if someone pressured you, you would tell them to fuck off or wouldn’t listen to them. What really grounded me was that I could come back home to you, and everything was normal and good. You gave me stability in my hectic life. And when we got the kids, I-“

“So now it’s the kids’ fault? Don’t blame it on them or me, okay?” You say a little defensively. “I gave you a choice and gave you an out many times, and you signed the fucking custody papers with me, so don’t tell me that you weren’t given any choice or some other excuse.” You cross your arms, waiting for her to speak up, while she sighs defeated.

“It’s not that, Y/n; I always wanted to have kids, you know that. I always knew that I wanted kids with you, and I don’t blame it on the kids or you. I only blame it on myself. Okay? I feel like shit; I swore to you that I would never leave you.”

“No, you don’t get it, you made me feel like I was back again with my parents, and they told me to fuck off and to never show up again and gave me no explanation. I felt like I did something wrong. I have been dying inside since you left me, trying to understand why. It felt like you took me for granted.” You say vulnerably, trying to keep your emotions at bay, something the person in front of you was failing.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so selfish. I-I didn’t think about that.” She says now, wiping her tears away from her eyes. You always hated it when she cried. “I’m such an idiot. I know I fucked up Y/n. I was trying to say that I realized that my family is the only people I have to care about and be accountable for my actions. And you are my family. You and the kids. And I’m really sorry that I haven’t figured it out sooner. But I’ll do whatever it takes to make you believe that and trust me again.”

“Took you long enough.” You chuckle wetly, her little speech making you emotional; nobody has ever told you that you were their family or part of one.

“Please tell me that is not too late.” She asks pleading.

“That is up to you.” You say earnestly. “My priority now is the kids. And I need you to show me that I will be one of your priorities and that I’m not taken for granted, and what you did won’t happen again because I don’t think I could survive that.”

“I’ll do anything. I’ll leave football if you want me to. You are too important and the only thing that matters.” She says desperately, but you could see that she wasn’t lying, and that was all that you needed to hear. 

“Okay, maybe nothing that extreme. But you’ll have to make it up to me properly.” You give her a playful smirk. “You can start by taking me on a date. I want to be wooed and be given flowers. If you want me, you’ll have to start again from the beginning. Clean slate. And this doesn’t mean that everything is forgotten.”

She smiled shyly, nodding, but you could see she was happy you had given her a second chance. “Let’s see if you still have some game after nearly four years.” You tease her, winking.

“Oh, I definitely do.” She says confidently, making you shake your head in awe.

“Now, come here. I missed you, Amorcito.” You say not containing yourself anymore. You were glad that you managed to clear the air with Alexia. Even though you knew that it wouldn’t be like before, you were taking those steps in the right direction. “You made me worry so much during the match.” You say while she rounds the table and sits on your lap. You hug her sides and put your head on her chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am.” She kisses you on the top of your head, bringing you closer.

“Are you sure?” You whisper.

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” 

“Let’s get on the couch first.” She stands up, takes your hand, and leads you to the living room. She sat between your legs and began telling you what happened during the World Cup. How Jorge was always trying to blame the team if his ideas weren’t working, and how he would always target Alexia, making little comments about how since she broke her ACL, she wasn’t playing the same, and that if it weren’t for her popularity, he wouldn’t have even put her on the roster. To ‘punish’ her, he stripped her of her role as team captain, stating that her leadership wasn’t needed.

“I totally disagree with that,” you say, getting angrier as she continues talking.

“I didn’t know what to think anymore, and I started believing in what he was saying. We were underperforming, and for him, I was the one to blame, even though we were in eleven to play in a match.”

Then she explained to you what happened in the match against the USA. The morale in the squad was already low, and in all that, he began guilt-tripping the players.

“As soon as the final whistle blew, everyone was sad, but I felt relieved; I finally didn’t have to endure that anymore. I went to drink some water, and he snatched the bottle from me; I think he told me I didn’t deserve to drink because I disappointed the whole nation, and I laughed at his face. He grabbed my arm, and he began insulting me and telling me every little thing I did wrong. Then Ona and Aitana approached us and tried to understand what was happening. I didn’t want them to be involved or that Jorge would begin releasing his anger on them, so I tried to push them away, but they wouldn’t budge.”

“They tried to protect you.” You explain, stating the obvious.

“I know, but unintentionally, they made it worse. He started getting personal, telling me nobody cared about me and that if you cared about me, you would’ve been here. And that nobody gives a shit about me, if not for my status. I laughed at him and walked out.” She says without displaying any emotions whatsoever.

“He’s such an asshole. You don’t have to believe him a bit. You are a great player and a great person. Nobody should ever doubt that, okay?”

She nods, still with some uncertainty in her eyes. You take her face in your hands and make her look at you. “Okay?” You say emphatically.

“Okay.” She smiles at you, then sinks into your embrace, trying to find comfort.

“So, how are the kids?” You smile at her question and begin to tell her everything that happened. How they met some of your teammates, Mapi, and especially what Lucia had told everybody.

“And then she told Paños, Patri, and Claudia that I was a better mom this month than her real mother had been in sixteen years. And I don’t know Alexia, but I felt like what I did, what we did for them, was worth all of it, from the social workers to building a bedroom from our closet. I felt so happy. And you know, it gave me the hope that maybe I can be a good mom for them.” You say hopefully, feeling a little embarrassed. You hide your face in the crook of her neck.

“Of course, you are a great mom and don’t have to be ashamed. Carry it with pride.” She says to you proudly, caressing your cheek. “I hope that someday I could be that for them too.”

“You will. Kids love you.” You say earnestly. “Oh, and by the way, I think Lucia might have a secret boyfriend.”

“Wait, what?” She removes herself from your embrace and sits with her legs crossed on the couch before you, grinning curiously.

“She always goes to bed early, never wants me to train with her at the pitch, always hides her phone notifications from me, even though I never look at her phone screen, and she seems happier.”

“But how?”

“I genuinely don’t know. Or maybe she’s tired of me and doesn’t want me around for training. Those are the two options. I genuinely don’t know which one to hope for.” She chuckles.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. You were sixteen too once.”

“Oh, shut up; you know I didn’t do relationships when I was younger. If it’s actually true, though, I think I will have a mental breakdown.”

“You are so dramatic. By the way, I love this worried mom look that you have on right now.” She pokes your sides while you blush.

“You’ll have to deal with him.” You say, pointing your finger at her.

“Okay, I will, just for you.” She chuckles. “I really missed this. It’s good to be home.” She says seriously, taking your hands.

“Take me on a date first, woman!” You give a gentle slap to her hands and put them on your sides.

“I will. I will pull all of my tricks. Open the car door for you, get you flowers, and walk you to your door.”

“So cliché.” You roll your eyes.

“Don’t act as if you don’t like it.” She teases you. 

You talked until it was time to get the girls home. It was good to finally have her back. You missed talking and laughing with her so much. You finally felt normal, full. And even though you both knew that there was still some making up to do and that it was best not to go back immediately to your old relationship, this start made you hopeful.

“Ale, I have to go now.” You say, smiling, while she tightens your embrace around your sides, not making you leave.

“No! I just have you back! I don’t want you to leave.” She says pouting.

“You are talking like you haven’t seen me in ten years.” You chuckle. “It has only been a month!”

“But it has been a very long month!” She says pouting.

“You have to go to your mom and sister; they were worried sick about you. And I have to pick up the kids.”

“Okay, but tomorrow I’ll pick you up for our date.”

“Oh wow, aren’t we confident?” “What if I am not available tomorrow? I might have something else to do.” You tease her.

“Like what?” She grins.

“I might have another date to go to. You know, I am a very highly wanted woman.” You joke.

She frowns, looking at you, crossing her arms. “No, you don’t! Right?” She asks you insecurely. 

“No, I don’t.” You chuckle while standing up from the couch, wanting to get ready.

“When will I see the kids?” She asks shyly.

“Whenever you want to. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to wait after our date.”

“I’m okay with whatever you want.”

“I have to go now.” You say, walking to her and stopping a meter away from her.

“So tomorrow?”

“I’ll let you know.” You give her a wink. “Goodbye Ale. You can go whenever you are ready. I’ll see you soon.”

When both the girls are in the car, you explain to them that Alexia will be back. She won’t live in the same house as you now, but she’ll still come around. Ava was thrilled to hear that; you knew she missed Ale a lot, whereas Lucia would scoff or roll her eyes whenever you talked about Alexia. You first noticed this at the beginning of the World Cup, and you didn’t know whether to confront her about it or ignore it. 

After you told Mapi about everything with Alexia the next day, she offered to stay over to watch Ava, as Lucia didn’t need much to be taken care of.

It was 5pm, and you were a little nervous. She didn’t tell you where you would go, so you didn’t know how to dress or what to expect.Thankfully she sent you a text.

‘We are going somewhere to eat. I know that you are probably freaking out because you don’t know where we are going or how to dress. Dress comfy and casual. I know that you hate dressing up.’

You chuckled at the fact that she seemed to be reading your thoughts. 

You decided to go for some shorts and a top, and in the meantime, while you waited, you went downstairs. You had the house all by yourself, which meant that you could do anything you wanted, with nobody judging, that is, working on the 1000-piece puzzle that you and the girls decided to start three days ago.

You were shit at puzzling. You knew that. The girls knew that. Everybody knew that. But stubborn as you are, you decided to prove everyone wrong.

Thank god that your attempt to puzzle was stopped by a car parking and your doorbell. You open the door and find Alexia with flowers hiding her smile.

“Hello.” She says shyly, giving you the flowers; you find her so adorable that you almost cannot keep yourself from kissing her. She gives you the flowers.

“Thank you.” You make her come inside your home and put them in a vase with water, not wanting to ruin them. “So where are we going?”

“Patience.” She chuckles at your excitement.

“Ugh. I hate surprises.”

“No, you love them, but you hate being at the center of the attention or not being in control.”

“Stop it. I hate that you know me too well.” 

“After three years of relationship, it would be weird if I didn’t.”

You smile, agreeing, then ask her, “Do you want to take Nala?”

“It’s better if we don’t; we are going in an indoor place. We can leave her to my mom’s house.” 

As you left your house, you went to Alexia’s car; she opened the door for you and closed it, then hopped in and began driving.

She had both hands on the steering wheel, which was something new, as she would always take your hand or put it on your thigh. She watched the road when you took her hand, making her snap out of her trance and look at you. You put both hands on your thigh, making her smile at your action, then resuming looking at the road. Her hand never left yours, and you got it back when the night ended.

As you saw the car turning right to a pub, you squealed happily. “No, you didn’t!”

“I did.” She replies, wearing a proud smile.

“We haven’t been here in so long!” You add, hugging her arm.

“I know! We should’ve come here more often. That is why I decided to bring you here. This place means so much to us.”

You remember going to this pub for the first time after your first date with Alexia. It was a beach day trip; you had brought food, playing cards, and books. It was a beautiful date; you loved going to the beach and going together made it a plus. What you didn’t expect was the rain. You had planned to stay there also for dinner, but the weather made other plans, so you both ran to your car laughing, and after a while of wandering around the streets, you found this pub. It was old and broke many hygiene standards, but you didn’t care. You were hungry and wanted a place to stay for when the rain would stop. What actually made you fall in love with the place wasn’t the fact that the owners were crazy as fuck or that there was a pool table available. It was their impromptu karaoke/stand-up comedy nights.

The first time you went there, there was this guy you didn’t even know the name of who would sing or tell jokes while nobody was listening. He was bad. Like really bad. He would sing the most complicated songs: Amy Winehouse, Beyoncé, Celine Dion, all of them. On your date with Alexia, as soon as you heard him sing for the first time, your hope for a nice, quiet evening was thrown away. His bad singing skills caught you so off guard that you nearly spit all your drink on Alexia, choking on your drink, throwing a fit of coughs, making you go to the bathroom. Thank god he didn’t see you. 

As soon as you got back to the table, you both burst out laughing and decided to invent a story around his persona: he had a really weird 80s-style haircut, so you named him John Travolta, but since he was Spanish, his name was Juan Travolta. He was a very important accountant for many big companies but burnt out all his money on pony races and dog beauty contests. Leaving him with crushing debts, he decided to live off his wild passion: entertain others. After his fantastic performance of ‘My Heart Will Go On’, he began ‘the second part of the night’, as he claimed. Which was stand-up comedy/improv. For the few people in the pub, you and Alexia were the only ones listening, too curious not to do that. It was your second drink, and you found it hard to not stop yourself from laughing at the absurdity of all of it; while Alexia was giving you kicks under the table, trying to make you stop, it only made it worse.

Somehow, his comedy was even worse than his singing. He would try to make some jokes, but they never landed. Once, he even tried to memorize the monologue of a famous comedian, but that still didn’t do the trick. You figured he wasn’t cut out to be a comedian or a singer, but you appreciated his resilience and confidence. You wish that you had his confidence.

Since that first time at the pub, it had become yours and Alexia’s place. You would go there for date nights, when you wanted to have a laugh or when you wanted to be left alone. And even though the entertainment was shitty, the food was borderline poisonous, and the drinks were questionable, it had become a tradition for the both of you to go there whenever you went on a beach trip. It wasn’t the greatest place, but it was your place, and the memories you made there were ones you would cherish for the rest of your life. There, Alexia asked you to be her girlfriend, and you asked her to move in with you. It was a special place for your relationship with her, so Alexia knew what she did when she brought you there for your date. 

“Wait. Do you know if Juan Travolta still performs here?” You grin excitedly.

“I guess we’ll find out.” 

Alexia parks the car, and you don’t even wait for her to open the door for you, so you exit the car almost immediately. You quickly took her hand and dragged her inside. The place was exactly the same as it was the last time. Squicky floor, the same weird old owner behind the bar, and there he was. Juan. You smile excitedly, turning to Alexia, who rolls her eyes happily. Then you both sit at your usual table. You ordered some drinks and something to eat. While you waited for your order, you listened to Juan, who you thought was improving, shocking the both of you. Still, then he tried to make a high-pitched voice for a part of a song, and you realized that he was just as bad as you remembered him to be.

“I want him to sing at my wedding.” You say, clearly forgetting you were talking to the person you probably would marry.

“We are not making him perform at our wedding.” She says sternly.

“Our wedding?” You tease her, making her slightly blush.

“Yes, our wedding.” She says confidently.

“Where’s the ring, then?” You chuckle.

“Patience.” She remarks, making your heart flutter.

“If it’s not Juan, you would probably want Rosalia at our wedding; you are obsessed with her.”

“I am not.”

“Oh, you do. And what is more concerning is that she would probably say yes, she loves you.” You add. “But Juan Travolta, for me, is still my first choice.” 

It was good to be back with Alexia; you hadn’t had a date night in so long, and you finally felt normal again with her by your side. There were just some people that whenever you are with them, it just feels right. Like they are a small part of you. And even when you want to be alone with your thoughts, you don’t care if they are there because they belong with you. And that person was for you, Alexia. And in the same place you were in that very moment, a year before you realized that she was the only one it was worth spending your life with, and after that, you continuously left a piece of your heart for her to encompass and make it hers.

As soon as you finished eating, you both decided to have a shot at the pool table. Juan had just finished singing and now told some really bad and pathetic jokes. 

“So, are we placing any bets?” You grin competitively.

“We can do that if you want.” She says, rounding the pool table and putting all the balls in the triangle.

“If I win, which I will, I want you to make me coffee for two weeks.”

“I can bring you coffee every day, but if I win, which I will, you’ll have to give me a back massage.”

“I can be okay with that. You know that I’m low-key obsessed with your back and all of your tattoos. It won’t be a problem.”

“And dye your hair purple.” She chuckles.

“Oh hell nah.”

“So you are walking out on the bet?” She asks competitively.

“Never. You’ll just have to lose. Simple as that.” 

The competition was on. The pool table was isolated from the rest of the pub, meaning you could cheat a little. Your plan was to distract Alexia. A very challenging plan. Your captain had a mind and focus of steel.

It was your turn now, and Alexia was wearing her usual cocky smirk that would infuriate you at how good-looking it was. Fortunately for you, you were able to make two balls enter the hole, but then you missed. It was Alexia’s turn now. You were down one ball, but not for long. You casually walked towards her and saw her bend on the pool table, trying to take aim. You took your chance. You put your hand on her lower back under her shirt, and then you lean in, whispering in her ear. “If I remember correctly, you always loved bending like this for me, but you always had fewer clothes on than now.” You smirk, leaving a kiss behind her ear.

“Y/n.” She cautioned you reprimanding.

“What? I am just stating a fact. Come on, do your shot.” You smirk, leaving her a little flustered. She takes in a deep breath, but then you put your hand on her side, slowly going down. She took aim again, but she missed the shot, making you give her a mischievous smirk. Both of your competitive natures were about to arise, and that meant that Alexia would be playing dirty, too.

“I thought you had a nerve of steel, capitana.” You remark, making her look at you slightly annoyed.

“You started something, Y/n; I’m going to end it.” 

It was your turn now, and you were hoping that Alexia wouldn’t be doing something that would make you not focus. You were ready to take aim when she basically put her whole front to your back, putting her hands inside your t-shirt and slowly massaging right under your breasts, “You are wearing this little top; that is making me crazy. So much skin to touch, I don’t know where to put my hands.”

She whispers, making your brain completely numb and very hazy. She smirked at your reaction, then quickly moved away from you, leaning on the pool table to your left, “Now, come on. Do your shot.” She repeats the same thing that you said before. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to take her out of your mind, but it is too late; the 8 ball goes in, and you lose the game. She wins. 

“Fuck.” She chuckles, making a little bow and making you roll your eyes. 

“You’ll get ’em next time.” She teases.

“I can’t even say that you cheated because I did it before you.” You hunch your back, defeated. “So purple?” you add.

“Yep. And a back massage.”

“No coffee?”

“Since I am a wonderful person and I am the bigger person, I can still bring you coffee. I would hate to see you sad that you lost your bet.” She says, trying to conceal a smile, “You poor loser.” She says while caressing your head, giving you some comfort. You slap her hand away from you, “I might be a sore loser, but you, Alexia Putellas, you are an asshole.”

“Well, this asshole is better than you at pool.”

“I want a rematch.”

“Maybe next time. It’s getting late.” The night was going so well that you totally forgot about the time. It was 10pm, and you promised Ava to be there for bedtime.

-

So you quickly exited the pub and went in the car. Without hesitation, Alexia put her hand on your thigh and drove. In the car, you began reminiscing about the places you went together and gossiped about your neighbors. 

As soon as you got home, she walked you to the door and waited hesitatingly. “So you want to come in to say hi to the kids? They’ll love to see you.” You offer.

“Are you sure?” She smiles, hoping for a positive response.

“Come inside.” You take her by the hand and go inside your house with her. In the living room, you saw Mapi exhausted on the couch while Ava was sleeping with her head on her lap, and Lucia was nowhere to be found.

As soon as you went inside the living room, Mapi turned to see you, then she gently moved Ava and went to greet you. You went into the kitchen to not make noise. There, Mapi slaps Alexia on the shoulder, making her recoil.

“What was this for?” She whispers, annoyed.

Your best friend points the finger at her. “This. It’s for going MIA for two days without saying anything AND leaving Y/n. What were you thinking?” She pushes Alexia’s head with her fingers.

“Maria.” You look at her sternly.

“I’m sorry, Mapi, for everything. I was in a really weird place mentally, but now I’m good.” You could see that she was a little more convinced. “Can I have a hug? I haven’t seen you in a while now!” The two friends hugged and then began to catch up. After a while, your friend said goodbye and left, not without thanking her for what she did. 

“I’m taking Ava to bed. Do you want to come with me?”

She slowly nods at your offer, and you both go to your living room. Lucia was still outside, which made you and Alexia share puzzled looks with each other.

You wake up Ava and tell her it’s time to bed. She slowly opened her eyelids and looked around, blinking twice when she saw Alexia.

“Alexia!” She says excitedly, still very sleepy.

“Hi, mi nena, let’s go to bed, it’s very late.” She says, smiling, caressing her cheek. She makes grabby hands for the older woman to pick her up, which she gladly does, always wearing her biggest smile; she probably missed the girls very much. 

She picks her up and takes her to her bed. She then tucks the bed sheets, and you hear them converse.

“Go to sleep, Ava.” She says, looking at her like she is the world’s most precious thing.

“Will you come tomorrow?”

“Yes, I will. I’ll come whenever you want me to. Now go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

She exits her room and closes it, walking towards you.

“She really missed you.” You say to her while she hugs you on the side.

“I missed her too. But where is the other one? Is she still on the phone?” 

“No, she just ended it; I’ll go to her.” You go outside, and you call out her name. 

“Lucia?” You ask while she is still looking at her phone. 

She jumps at your voice, nearly throwing her phone.

“Oh hey, Y/n!” She says as if she were caught red-handed.

“Do you want to come in inside? It’s getting cold.” You offer her. 

“Okay.” She comes inside, gives an awkward wave at Alexia, and then goes to her room, saying goodnight to you before closing the door.

You turn around to Alexia, “She is definitely hiding something.”

“So for tomorrow.” She had her hands behind her back. She had this cute little habit when she was shying away from asking permission for something. You took her hands from behind her back and laced them with yours. 

“Why are you getting so shy all of a sudden?” You chuckle, making her blush.

“I told Ava that I would be coming over tomorrow morning because she wouldn’t sleep if not. So, I was trying to ask you if I could come over?”

“Of course you can. You have to make me coffee.” You remark as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“Then I should get going.” She says awkwardly, clearly not wanting to leave.

“You can always stay over for the night.” You push her more towards you, leaving only a few centimeters. “I really enjoyed the date. We went to our place, we played pool, and tomorrow morning, you have to be here, so why not?” You offer. She begins giving you kisses all over your face, minus the lips, on the cheeks, forehead, chin, and jawline. You really missed her kisses.

“No.” She looks at you, making you give her a puzzled look. “I want to do things the right way, and I don’t want to rush anything.” She gives you a kiss on the nose. “Plus, on a first date, you never ask someone to stay the night!” Making you chuckle. “You wait at least for the third date. On the first date, you only ask for one thing…” 

You knew where this was going; she was going to ask you for a kiss. “What do you ask for?”

“For a kiss.” She states, getting all shy again. Then, her gaze softens, and her voice becomes serious. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, you can.” You take your hands and put them on her neck, slightly playing with the hair on the back of her head, while she takes your sides and gently leans in for a peck. 

“Just that?” You chuckle. “You have to give me more than that. I haven’t kissed you in more than a month.”

Without asking twice, she pulls you closer to her for a more passionate kiss that takes your breath away. It was needy, and it was full of passion. You both haven’t kissed each other in so long, and the constant teasing of the whole night made the both of you react in a desperate way for each other. You were slowly going forward in your new relationship with each other, but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss the small or big actions one did with the other’s body. You knew each other’s body perfectly, and frankly, you missed how much perfectly her lips would encapsulate yours or how she knew how much to push or how much you needed from her.

She pushes you to the wall and slowly traces her tongue on your lips, asking you for permission. You absolutely granted her that. Your mind was hazy, and you weren’t functioning properly. The both of you forgot that you were in a freaking house with kids that could walk in on you at any moment, but you didn’t care; you finally had your girl back. Both hands were roaming everywhere, clearly not containing your excitement. You always loved it when Alexia took control, and after a month of not feeling her body, hands, and lips on you, it made it all worse. After a period of time that was not enough for you, she put her forehead on yours, with the both of you panting for air.

She then begins giving you small pecks on the lips, “I.” Another peck, “Missed.” Another one. “This.” And finally, placing the last kiss on your lips, lingering a little.

“Wait, sorry. What did you miss? I didn’t quite understand. Can you show me again?” You tease her. She turns you around and then brings you even closer, lifting you in the air and kissing you again.

She then puts you on the ground and looks at you, giving you the smile that was only reserved for you. The real one showed all 32 teeth, but what made it special were her eyes. Whenever she smiled like that, her eyes would narrow, and her whole face would light up.

“I love you.” Before you can reply, she gives you another peck. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, mi amor.” And before you could reply to anything, she left the house, leaving you frozen in the spot. After two good minutes to compose yourself, you go upstairs to get ready for bed.

You were reading some book to get yourself tired and ready to sleep when you heard your phone buzz.

‘I just got home :)’

‘I really had fun today. I’m so glad you had given me a second chance.’

‘I’m glad too. But maybe next time, don’t run away like that.’

‘I won’t, I promise. Good night’

‘Goodnight.’

You put your phone away and go to sleep.

-

The next day was the last day before you, Alexia and Lucia would begin preseason. You were excited, but at the same time, you were a little worried about leaving Ava and sometimes Lucia for work. You hoped that when school for them would start, everything would get easier from there. It was 8 am, and as you got downstairs in your kitchen, you began your morning routine. Scroll through some news and wait for the kids to wake up. As you scroll on your phone, you receive a text from Alexia saying that she will be arriving soon. 

You had to go to the hospital with Ava for some check-ups, and you were really worried. With all your experience with hospitals with Nico, you always hated going inside there for check-ups, especially when one of your loved ones was involved. So you really hoped that the visit would go well. And even though every month, you spent at least three hours in a hospital trying to cheer up children who went through the same condition that your little brother had, you felt that on this occasion, it was different. This time, you went with your child, giving you a different type of fear.

As soon as Alexia arrived, you and the girls had breakfast together; needless to say, it was very awkward. Lucia was still annoyed with Alexia; Ava was really tired because you had to wake her up early. And you were already worried about going back to the hospital, so you were deep in your thoughts, continuously zoning out.

When Alexia noticed it, she put a hand on your thigh to give you some type of comfort; you both shared a look that made you understand how each other was feeling. This is what you loved and missed about your relationship with her, the way that you understood each other in every way, almost as if you both could read each other’s mind.

As soon as you finished breakfast, the girls went to their rooms to get ready, which left you and Alexia alone to do the dishes. You were cleaning them while she was drying the mugs. You were weirdly silent and clearly in your head.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

Alexia’s voice made you snap out of the trance. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just, today Ava has a visit with the oncologist, and I’m-“

“You are worried.” She finishes the sentence for you to understand how you are feeling.

“You already know that I hate going to the hospital for any medical reason, especially for people I care about. And I know that this is just a formality, but still, it’s making me have flashbacks of Nico.” You say in one breath.

“You don’t have to justify your feelings with me, okay?” She says, turning her head to you and giving you an earnest smile. You slowly nod, and then you finish up cleaning. “Do you want me to come with you?” She says while hugging you from behind, leaving some small kisses on your shoulders, trying to give you some comfort.

“You don’t have to. You might have some other stuff to do.” You say, turning your body around to face her.

“My family is more important.” She gives you a small peck on the lips, making your stomach flip.

“Do you love our little family so much that you would be willing to drive us?” You ask tentatively, with the both of you knowing how much you hated driving.

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Okay, I will.”

“So, what are your plans for the day?” You ask Alexia while she is driving you and the girls to the hospital. 

“So you know, what happened at the World Cup?”

You nod.

“Well, my agent wants me to release a video or write a note explaining what happened.”

“Do you already know what you are going to say?”

“I’m retiring from the national team.”

“Wait. Really?” You weren’t that shocked at the news; after what happened with Jorge, you knew that Alexia wouldn’t have returned to play if he was the coach.

“Yeah, and it’s not going to be only me.”

“Who else?”

“For now, Ona and Aitana, they are waiting for me to break the news. But many others will retire, too. I’ll tell you everything later in the afternoon when you’ll dye your hair.” She sends you a wink.

This made both girls turn to look at you.

“Are you dyeing your hair?” Lucia asks.

“I made a stupid bet with Alexia, and I lost it, so I have to dye my hair purple. She’s going to dye it for me, as I hate going to the hairdresser.” You cross your arms while the two young girls chuckle.

“Can I help? Can I help?” Ava asks excitedly.

“You know what? I don’t care anymore. Do whatever you want with my hair.” You say exasperated.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Alexia says, clearly mocking you.

“I’m not being dramatic.” You pout.

“Yes, you are being dramatic.” Lucia interjects, saying the first words since she got in the car. 

“If it turns out bad, I’ll blame it on the three of you.”

-

As you got inside the hospital, you went into the oncology department, where basically everybody knew you from all the visits that you did in the past years with the other players; what they didn’t know was that you had in custody the two girls, making all the nurses from the floor give you a questioning look.

You sensed that Lucia was worried, too, so you nudged Alexia to go with Ava, leaving you with the older sister.

You put your arm on her shoulder and give her a kiss on the temple. “Everything is going to be okay. You have to be strong for her.”

“How do you do it?”

“What?”

“You are not worried. How do you do it?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m super worried, even though it’s just a check-up. I just try to cope with it.”

“How?”

“It’s not very healthy, so you probably shouldn’t do it.” She looks at you blankly. “Just whenever it gets too much, come and talk to me or to anyone. Don’t keep everything in. You are going to explode, believe me.”

She slowly nods and then thanks you. “And now that I have you for the first time alone, stop doing that thing with Alexia, please.”

“What thing?” She asks dumbly.

“Giving her the death stare, or not talking to her, or refusing to sit next to her.”

“I would never do such a thing!” She says defensively, even though you both knew that it wasn’t the case.

“Lucia.” You reprimanded her.

“Okay, she left you, us, without saying a word; you have basically forgiven her right away. I can’t let her just walk into Ava’s life again as if nothing happened. Maybe she’ll leave again, and Ava will be crushed, and I can’t let that happen.”

“Listen, I know that you are hurt, and you are kind of right from a point of view. But you don’t know the whole story. And I have known Alexia for nearly ten years now, and I know for a fact that she won’t abandon her family.”

“But she did.”

“As I told you before, you don’t know the whole story, and frankly, I don’t think you should because it is something between me and her. What I ask you is to give her a second chance. She deserves it. Will you try? Please.”

She nods.

As soon as you get to the waiting room, Lucia reminds you that Ava just changed doctors because her previous doctor had just retired. You hoped that her new doctor would be just as good as her other one.

What you didn’t expect is for you to know her.

As soon as the doctor’s office door opens, you almost immediately recognize her voice, soon after you recognize her.

“Y/n?” She asks, shocked.

“Oh my god! It’s you, then.” You walk to her and hug her.

Making the three other girls confused; you then turn to them and explain. “This is Emma; we were friends a long time ago.” You say happily.

“So, who are those people!” She asks you while resting her arm on your shoulder. She has always been very touchy.

“Well, this is Ava and Lucia; you have a visit with the little one, I guess. And this is-“

“Alexia.” Your girlfriend? You didn’t know what to call her. Walks up to her and shakes her hand.

“Are they yours?” She asks.

“We recently gained custody of them.”

“Oh wow!” She jokes. Then she kneels next to Ava, who was sitting down next to her big sister, “So you must be Ava. I’m Doctor Emma Fernandez. But you can call me Doctor Em.” Then she turns to you. So I know that you are in four, but only one of you can come with her.” You turn to look at Lucia, and you can see her distressed face turn into a defeated look. You knew that she wanted to be there, present for her sister, as protecting her was all she had ever known.

“Can you make an exception? I’m legally her guardian, but I’d rather have her sister come too, just to ease some nervousness.” You try to give her one of your most convincing smiles in the hopes that she will agree to your proposal.

She first looks at you, then the girls, and in the end, Alexia, then back to you. “Okay. Only because it’s her first visit.” She turns around to her office and lets you all in.

Thankfully, the visit went well, and you all returned home happy and grateful. Back home, the girl was minding their own business while you and Alexia were in the kitchen, figuring out her post on the national team.

-

You were sitting on the countertop while Alexia was sitting down on your left, very much focused, writing something on her iPad.

“So, do you know exactly what you are going to say?” Caressing her cheek, trying to make her divert her attention to you, she gives you a smile, leaning in the contact.

“I need to be cautious because I really don’t want to fall into any miscommunication or accidentally blame someone who’s not involved.”

“I really do believe that if you and some other big names put out a statement, things will change. But I know that you are in a very different position than I was when we sent that email. So whatever it happens, I understand, and I will support you.”

She turns her iPad towards you, “Read it.” She hands it to you, and you read what she wrote. It was a short note saying that she would be retiring from the national team because of some issues faced by the federation that put winning and pride over the well-being of the players. And then she added that what happened after the match against the USA with the coach was something inexcusable and unacceptable.

“I know that is very similar to what you said in the letter, so if you want me to change it, I’ll do it.” She says while you are still reading everything.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s similar if you tell the truth. For me, it’s perfect and very ballsy. If you want to post it, I’ll support you. But that’s my opinion. If you want a more objective opinion, I think you should ask Jenni or maybe Aitana to give you their opinion.”

“I already send it to them. I’ll probably post it tomorrow after I call my agent. What about you? I thought your agent told you to clarify about the kids thing.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Have you been ignoring the problem?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yep. I was about to make a post, but then I didn’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it didn’t feel right to do it at that moment.” She looks at you, puzzled, “It didn’t feel right because you weren’t there. I was about to do it when you were at the World Cup, and we broke up and were on a break or whatever that was.” She turns her head to the ground, sadly, still a little ashamed and guilty of breaking up with you. “And it didn’t feel right to post about my family when a huge part of it was missing. I was hoping you’d come back to me. And I’m so glad you did.”

She looks at you shyly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So you want to go public?” She smirks at you.

“I mean, we can, If you want that too. Maybe not now, but when things start to settle, we can. Again, if you want to, of course.”

-

As the night progressed, you were dreading the moment in which the girls would dye your hair. It’s not the fact that you didn’t want to dye your hair; what you hated about this was the fact that you would probably have to sit still for at least an hour, fully knowing that you couldn’t move in fear of ruining your clothes, but unfortunately, a bet is a bet and knowing that the girls would be doing that and that you would be having some family time, would make it worth it. 

This left you sitting on a chair in your bedroom, with your head in your hands, while Alexia was trying to dye your hair, and the two girls were fighting for the music to play. After a while of convincing, they opted for a random playlist while Ava turned excitedly to Alexia, asking if she could do it. You genuinely didn’t know why she was that excited, but you didn’t care.

In the end, it didn’t look that bad

-. 

It was mid-August, so this was your last day before you went in preseason, and Lucia would be joining La Masia. Since she lived in Barcelona, she would stay there 5 days a week and return home on the weekends. So you finished the night by helping her pack up, making you, in the process, a little emotional. 

It was 11 pm, and the girls just went to bed. Which left you and Alexia in the living room. You knew that it was late and you had to go to sleep, but both of you had training the following day, early in the morning. But neither of you wanted to leave. 

“I should leave-“

“Do you want to come upstairs?” You both ask at the same time.

You both chuckle. “Are you sure?” She asks you.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You smile, taking her hand and leading her to your bedroom. As you both lay down on your bed, she turns to you, “So, are we back together?” She smiles shyly.

“Are you asking me again to be your girlfriend?” You tease while putting yourself on top of her.

“Yes, I am.” She replies confidently, moving her hands to your waist.

“So ask me.”

“Will you be my girlfriend once again, Y/n?” She grins excitedly in anticipation.

“Yes, I will.” You push yourself down to give her a small peck on the lips.

“I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much, too.” You reply; while she looks at you in a way you always found so cute, you smile dumbly at her.

“What?”

“Oh, just fuck it.” You say as you crash your lips into hers, making her react immediately by lifting herself off the mattress, sitting right up, with you entirely on top of her with both of your fronts touching and ending the night with more than just kissing.

The next day, preseason had started, thus also starting the 23-24 season, one of the busiest and wholesome years of your life.