#so she was supposed to drop by our apartment today to pick up some jewelry she wanted me to lend to her

[gender-euphowrya]

my grandma is like "i make mistakes and it's Your fault"

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader; established relationship yoongi x reader

summary: The love of your life, BTS’s very own Min Yoongi, tells you he has a gift for you. But he also says you’re not allowed to refuse. What’s that supposed to mean, hm? Surely not... wild hot sex with the Golden Maknae himself?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (takes place after his surgery); smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral, dirty talk, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; it’s self-indulgent and I’m a little ashamed but it’s too late now, whoops

--

Just... just looking through the Twitter tag couldn't hurt, right?

You scrolled through the pictures slowly. They performed really well these past two days. Received all the awards they deserved, because BTS were the best. Still, it depressed you seeing the empty space where Min Yoongi was supposed to be. 

But that was because Yoongi was beside you, propped up in the bed with pillows, scrolling on his phone with his right hand. Occasionally, he would lower it to use both hands, since his left arm was still in the sling. You two had watched the MMA and MAMA 2020 performances together. You knew he wanted to be there. You could hear it in his voice when he called in. 

Oh, that’s right, were you supposed to be in his apartment?

No. 

But you didn't care about rules and neither did Yoongi. 

Were you dating? Well, as much as dating could be when it came to a relationship with the most loved 'lil meow meow' in the whole world. 

Yoongi always gave you this look of disapproval when you called him that, but you would always just smile and say it again, slower. 

It was the kind of thing that simply fell into place and neither of you wanted to convolute it with too many other opinions or thoughts. What happened, happened. You weren't going to make yourself known or ask for impossible things. When he told you that he was getting surgery for his left shoulder and wouldn’t have schedules for a long while, you cashed in on all those sick hours you accumulated at work, stating you had to take care of a loved one. 

No one knew your loved one was Min Yoongi. And that's way you two liked it. 

Yoongi leaned over to the long straw of the water bottle tucked in the crook of your arm. 

"Staring at our maknae again?"

You stiffened. "I'm looking at all their pictures, Yoongi. Just happened to stop on Jungkook."

He took a short sip.

"Mmm-hmm."

A few seconds past. You stared at Jungkook’s intense dark eyes, his long hair flying about from dancing, his clenched jaw as he focused. Looking sinful in all white, tempting you to save the photos.

"You're not changing the screen."

"I'm admiring the stylists' hard work."

Yoongi hummed. "You're a bad liar."

You would have thrown your phone at him if it wasn't the special edition BTS S20+, complete with a Shooky phone case. You swiped past, seeing the image of Jungkook lifting Jimin in the Black Swan performance.

"I should tell him."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sick of me?"

"No." He pointed to his left arm. "Can't take care of you either."

"I don't want to be the reason you need more months of physical therapy. I'm fine."

Yoongi placed his phone in his lap and placed his right arm around your shoulders. "We could risk it," he purred. 

You chuckled. "I don't think that's a good idea." You leaned your head against his shoulder. "I want to see you preform again."

"But you still want to bang Jungkookie."

A muscle in your eyebrow twitched. "I'm only looking at the pictures, Yoongi. You know you're the only one for me."

"You wouldn't try? Even if he begged you?"

You turned to Yoongi and his crafty smirk. "No." You stared at his lips and leaned in, kissing him lightly. You smiled against them. "I love you, Yoongi." Your smile turned into a smirk. "I worked too hard to sneak in here. Even outsmarted Dispatch. You can't get rid of me so easily."

Yoongi smiled back. He leaned against the headboard.

"What if I was okay with it?”

You blinked at him. "Why would you be okay with it?”

Yoongi shrugged. "You're mine, no matter what, no? Not even Jungkook's dick is going to change that."

"... Hah?"

Yoongi held up his hand, long fingers spread out. He ticked them down as he spoke. "Pros: my woman gets to satisfy her little crush, gets the fucking she wants, and will be happy."

You felt your ears burn. "Yoongi..."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, wicked smile on his lips. "Cons... none."

You rolled your eyes. "You'd be pissed off."

He tilted his head. "What do I have to be pissed off for? Are you saying there's a reason I should be worried?"

You frowned. "No. Even if it did happen, which it won't, you will always be number one."

Yoongi nodded. "There you go."

You let out a puff of air. "I don't think Jungkook would agree anyway. And I wouldn't do it, because it's not the right thing to do."

"Who decided it's wrong?"

You made a face. "I don't know... society?"

"And we trust that societal rules are just and moral?"

"I mean, no..."

-

Washing your hair was always a pain in the ass.

You had to blow-dry it upside down, add five products at different stages, brush it super carefully with a special brush to avoid breakage, collect the fallen hair and throw it out, blah blah blah.

You shrugged on one of Yoongi's shirts after the shower – the black-and-white checkered one he wore during his VLive. Running your hand through your hair, you finally picked up your phone. Yoongi was at physical therapy, so he wouldn't be back for a while. You had some messages from him, probably before he had to put his phone away.

I sent you a gift. It will arrive today. You are not allowed to refuse.

You raised your eyebrows at that. 

P.S. Merry early Christmas. 

Was it jewelry? You pursed your lips. You always told Yoongi not to buy you things. Firstly, because you felt bad you could never reciprocate the amount he spent. You didn't make the money he made, after all. And secondly, you weren't that interested in owning expensive things. The only expensive items you loved were technology-based. Yoongi and you bonded over the newest Samsung products and always kept an eye on the latest tech. 

Maybe that was it? Maybe you had to collect a package. You mused, brushing your teeth. You were going to borrow Yoongi's pants, but you had to go hunt for some. After the teeth brushing. 

You spat and gargled some water.

The front door opened. 

You frowned. Was physical therapy canceled? Yoongi didn't have people come in and clean the apartment, because he didn't want anyone to find you. You weren't supposed to be here and no one knew you were here – except for his members, of course. But they didn't have the key, so it had to be Yoongi. You waited, in case there was someone outside. You didn't want them to hear your voice. The door closed and relocked.

You spat and rinsed out your mouth before turning off the light and going to the hallway.

"Yoongi, was physical therapy can–"

The head of long black hair lifted and turned around. He was in the middle of taking off his black sneakers. He pulled down his black face mask.

It was not Yoongi. 

"Hey, noona."

Abort.

You backed up. 

"J-J-Jungkook?"

The mischievous maknae grinned. 

"I'm the gift."

Your eyes widened. You whipped your phone to your face, nearly dropping it, juggling it for two seconds before slapping it between your palms and rereading Yoongi's messages. Rereading them way too many times because what? What, what, WHAT?

"D-don't you have p-practice?" Why were you stuttering? You never stuttered. But you never had that conversation with Yoongi until a couple days ago either. 

"I have some time, but I have to go back, yeah," Jungkook replied, far too cheerfully for how flustered you were. He was probably trying not to laugh at you. 

"How did you get in? And what do you mean, y-you're the...?"

You felt like your world was spinning. Did Jeon Jungkook just announce he was the gift? What? You're not allowed to refuse. Of course, you were going to refuse! This was Min Yoongi you were in love with! The cutest in the entire world! 

Jungkook brushed back part of his long hair and tucked it behind his ear, revealing half of his forehead and his silver hoops. Smirk on his pink lips, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. Skin tan and glowing in the hallway light.

...

Okay, yes, Jeon Jungkook was very handsome, but it didn't matter because–

"Hyung and I had a talk. He gave me the key," Jungkook said, dangling it. 

"Hahaha, why would be do that?" you laughed nervously, still crab-walking backwards because maybe if you just fused with the wall then you were be spared from those penetrating dark brown eyes.

Jungkook stepped into the apartment, following you. “I was surprised too.” He smiled somewhat apologetically. “I guess he overheard me telling Taehyung that I would totally fuck you if you weren’t hyung’s girlfriend.”

You blinked rapidly. “P-pardon?”

Jungkook held up his hands. Oh dear. His pretty, large hands that reminded you of Yoongi’s, but his right hand was tattooed. “But I wasn’t going to do anything though. Promise.” His eyes shifted upwards and then he looked back at you, his rueful expression turning into one of slyness. Shit. “Well, until Yoongi-hyung asked me to, that is.”

You stumbled in the doorframe of the bedroom. To be honest, you kept backing up because Jungkook advancing on you was making you uneasy, hot, and bothered. With emphasis on the latter two. You still couldn’t believe Yoongi would do this to you. This was Yoongi! Mild-mannered, sweetie with swagger, SUGA of BTS!

Then you had a thought.

You were always very good at teasing Yoongi. Either to annoy him or sexually in public situations. You could imagine Yoongi’s smirking face now. Knowing he got the one-up on you. Knowing he’d finally shocked you.

You’re not allowed to refuse.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. A hot shiver went up your spine. Jungkook was right in front of you. Black parka, black jeans. Jungkook unzipped the parka, shrugging out of it. Black dress shirt. You knew Jungkook did not like wearing button-ups. Why was he wearing it? He unbuttoned the first one, revealing his collarbone. Then the second one. Open-mouthed smirk completed with his tongue between his teeth, dark eyes on your shaking form.

The maknae was going to fucking striptease you?

You held a hand up. “Hold on a second.”

Jungkook’s fingertips paused above the next button.

“You’re doing this… for fun?”

Jungkook tilted his head. “No. Not really for fun.” His voice was low, deep. His eyes trailed down your body, then back up to your face, lingering all over you. You swallowed. “I’m doing this because this is the only chance I’ll get.”

“What if I say no?”

Jungkook lowered his hand. “Hyung said you weren’t allowed to refuse.” His voice was softer now, almost pouting. Ouch. It actually pained you. You wanted to give in to him just like that. You loved Yoongi with all your heart, but the maknae’s charms definitely worked on you. They worked on everyone. Everyone loved Jungkook and wanted to give him everything.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, trying to reorient yourself, trying to find the right words. “I’m not saying I’m not interested. I definitely am.” He observed you carefully as you groped for the right words. “But this is a little crazy. And… you could get anyone.”

“I couldn’t get you.”

You slowly, slowly made eye contact with him. Jungkook took a step towards you. You didn’t move, transfixed by his chocolate eyes.

“The way you slowly fell in love with Yoongi-hyung,” he whispered, getting closer and closer. “You didn’t even notice. You still don’t notice. The way I stare at you, you and the beautiful shape of your eyes.” His finger came up and traced your eyes, rooting you in place. “Your cute nose. The shape of your lips.” His fingertip brushed against your lower lip. “So full. I watch you kiss him, wishing it was me.” He caressed your cheek. “The dimples that appear when you smile. So cruel.”

Jungkook’s breathing shallowed. His eyes flickered downwards to your hands, still clutching your phone. He reached for it and took it from you. Threw it onto the bed. Then his hands wrapped around yours, clutching them tight. You stopped breathing. Jungkook’s voice dropped several octaves.

“I watch your hands. Touching him, resting on his thigh, tracing up, palming him right in front of us.”

“I didn’t… think anyone would notice.”

Jungkook leaned in even more, still holding your hands tightly, as if they were going to disappear. You could smell his clean scent, like fresh laundry.

“I always notice,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re there, I can’t help but have my eyes on you. I couldn’t touch, but I could look. I thought that was all I could have.”

Jungkook let go of you. Hand dancing up your neck, cupping your cheek. Tilted his head, eyelashes lowering. Breath against your lips. Eyes pleading you, waiting for the heartbreak.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You’re not allowed to refuse.

You pressed your lips against Jungkook’s, eyes closing. It was impossible to say no. He was sweet and soft. You could feel his nerves and his fear in his kiss, not trying to ask for more, not wanting to ask for too much. It was you who hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Right, wrong? That didn’t matter right now. The only thing you cared about right now was taking Jungkook’s fear away.

You pulled him onto the bed, arms around his neck, mumbling his name against his lips. His breathing hitched, hands circling your waist, holding onto you.

“Noona…”

“Call me by name, Jungkook.”

He gulped, shaking his head. “I can’t.” He gnawed on his lip anxiously. You smiled, and took his hands, placing them by the buttons of his shirt.

“Weren’t you in the middle of giving me a show?” you teased. “You’re great at putting on a show.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh yeah?”

You settled down into the bed, looking up at him from in between his thighs. You could tell Jungkook was still nervous, but there was something else too. His mischief was creeping back into his sparkling eyes. You cocked an eyebrow, smirking. He undid another button. And another. Carefully, playfully pulling the fabric apart, revealing a little of his skin at a time.

“Hyung told me you like staring at my pictures.”

You shrugged, licking your lips. “They’re nice photos.”

“Were you satisfied by just looking at pictures?” he purred, already reaching lower, lower. You could see the contours of his muscular torso, the top of his abs. Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. Scratch that, so fucking hot. He reached the bottom of his shirt and placed two fingers under your chin, pushing it back up to his face.

“My eyes are up here.”

His fingers under your chin made you realize how hard you were breathing.

“Jungkook.”

He tilted his head at you, long hair covering part of his face.

Yoongi’s words came back to you. My woman gets to satisfy her little crush. At the time, you thought those words were referring to your crush in Jungkook. But perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe Yoongi was referring to you satisfying Jungkook.

“Don’t hold back.”

And then you got up from the bed, grabbing the collar of his dress shirt and yanking them down Jungkook’s shoulders, kissing him again, but harder this time, tongue sliding into his mouth and thrusting into it, taking his breath away. Jungkook’s eyes went wide, gasping against your tongue, struggling to get out of his sleeves before he scrambled for the buttons on your shirt, moaning as you sucked on his tongue, gripping his upper arms.

“N-noona…”

“Call me by name or nothing at all,” you growled dangerously.

His dark eyes bored into you, daring you. You nipped at his lower lip, grinning.

“You think you’re the only one who’s horny here?”

Your hands danced around his arms, reaching around him, and your nails scratched him down his broad back, hissing as he moaned, tipping his head back, Adam’s apple shaking. Fuck, it felt so good. It felt so fucking good to drag your nails down that back, seeing Jungkook lose some control, falling more and more into the moment. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him, shuddering as his hard body was pressed against you and your half-open shirt.

“I want it all,” you breathed. “I’m so greedy, but I want it all, Jungkook. Give it to me.” Voice dropping, inhaling his delicious scent. “Please.”

He growled deep in his chest and grabbed the bottom of your shirt, yanking up and revealing your bra clasp, undoing it easily. Pushed you back, swiftly pulling your shirt and bra off together, tossing it aside to the floor.

“Fuck, your tits are as pretty as I thought they would be.”

And then Jungkook’s mouth was on you, furiously kissing down your neck, licking your collarbones, biting your shoulder, his hands roughly squeezing your breasts. You moaned, your nipples pressed against his thumbs, pinching them against the side of his hand. His lips travelled down, down and then they latched around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands flew up into his hair, gripping it tightly.

“Fuck, they even taste good,” he whined. “You taste so fucking good.”

Your back arched as he began to suck, running your hands through his hair, whimpering his name, telling him how good he was, how nice it felt, lost in the feeling of his tongue and his strong arms around your waist. He switched to the other nipple, saliva dripping. Licking it all over and then breathing on it with his hot breath. Your entire body trembled in his arms from the sensation.

“I’m drooling; that’s how fucking good you taste,” Jungkook mumbled, sucking hard and tight, dark eyes on you as you cried out softly, holding onto his head. Your fingers curled into his long locks, grasping them tightly. He raised his eyebrow, but you began to rock back and forth into his mouth, tugging your nipple with his lips. Jungkook’s fingers dug into you, erotic groans vibrating in his throat as you fucked his face with your tits.

Wetness soaked your panties, the scent of your sex getting stronger and stronger.

Jungkook removed his lips, sucking in a tight breath. Your name slid out of his mouth in a tight hiss, no honorifics. You felt your pussy throb hearing your name come from his lips, saturated with desire. You grinned.

���Took you long enough, Jungkookie.”

He chuckled, grabbing your hips and shoving them up into his jean-covered crotch. You gasped. You could feel his erection straining against the thick fabric, grinding against your soaked panties. Fuck, you couldn’t stop staring at Jungkook, him and his sharp jawline and his beautiful eyes and his playful smirk on his damn lips, infuriating and arousing you.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” you whispered, rolling your hips into him hard. It was his turn to gasp, his turn to shudder at your movements. The way you could turn him from smug confidence to those submissive doe eyes was turning you on way too much.

You wanted to ruin him and be ruined by him.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. He yelped as you slid down, nails racking down his torso, whimpering in your wake. The front of his jeans was wet with your juices. You undid the button, zipping them down.

“How are you going to explain this?” you smirked, gesturing down to the giant wet sport at the front of his pants.

“They’re black,” Jungkook panted. “It’ll be fine.”

You laughed, pulling them down his legs. Jungkook’s hand flew down, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a condom. You tilted your head.

“Only one?”

He looked down at you, startled. “W-well… I don’t know if you want more….”

You raised an eyebrow and reached over to the nightstand, opening it and taking out the whole damn box.

“Er… I cannot cum that many times. In one sitting, anyway.”

“Ah, well, let’s just see then.”

You peeled his jeans and boxer briefs off, licking your lips as your hungry eyes landed on his cock. Half-hard, pre-cum glistening at the tip. Jungkook swallowed nervously, but you crawled on top of him, immediately licking a fat stripe down his entire length. You moaned with him, feeling the blood rushing to his cock, pulsing against your lips. You hadn’t had sex in a while, trying not to tempt Yoongi or aggravate his injury. His recovery was too important to not only you, but the nation and the world. So, you kept your need to yourself, but now Jungkook’s cock was right on front of you.

And there was nothing to stop you.

You pressed your lips against his balls, licking them all over, playing with them with your tongue. Jungkook groaned above you, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as you began to suck on them, bobbing your head up and down. He was panting your name breathlessly, helpless as you pulled your head back, his balls slowly slipping out from between your lips.

You kissed up his length, tongue swirling around the head before taking him in, all the way, softly but firmly. If there was anything Yoongi’s tongue technology taught you, it was how to apply his technique to giving head, much to his surprise. You were good at extrapolation. You pressed the head into the roof of your mouth, raking it all the way to the upper part of your throat and tightening. Jungkook gasped, eyelids fluttering as your tongue assaulted the bottom of his cock, from the bottom of the head to the base.

You heard something between the lines of, “Holy fuck”, “What the hell”, and “Oh my fucking God.”

You retreated for a second, wrapped your tongue all the way around the head and teased the thin skin right where the head and length connected, repeatedly rubbing your lips over it before going all the way down again.

Now Jungkook was absolutely incomprehensible as you began to suck him off, fast and tight, lips soft compared to the vacuum of your mouth. Was it unfair? Yes, it was, giving him soft and hard, rough and wet, scraping the head against the back of your throat and choking it with your muscles. Jungkook was whimpering and cursing, his thighs flexing under you, tasting so fucking good that you were dripping between your own thighs.

You didn’t stop.

Faster and faster, holding his hips down, watching Jungkook unravel under you, hands in his long hair and slamming his head back into the pillows, covering his mouth as he screamed your name into his palm. You felt his cock spurt his cum into the back of your throat, your muscles constricting as you drank him up, your moans added vibration along his length.

The first orgasm was always the most and tasted the best. So much, coating the entire inside of your mouth, your tongue swiping around his cock to collect it all. You lapped it all up, encouraging his cock to get hard again. Smirking as you succeeded, popping your mouth off gently.

“What position do you want me in, Jungkook?” you murmured, throat a little hoarse, taking the condom and opening it, rolling it onto his cock.

He moved his palm from his mouth, panting hard, hair all over his face. His intense brown eyes locked with yours and you knew the dynamic was switched.

“On your back. Want to watch your face when I fuck you.”

You could relent, rolling onto your back, removing your soaked panties, chest heaving in anticipation as Jungkook got up, towering over you. His hands gripped your hips, adjusting you to the correct angle. You could play the other part, with one small caveat. His eyes found yours, glaring at you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Make me.”

Jungkook thrust into you, hard, and you kept the smirk on your face as he forcefully stretched you out, pushing your limits.

“Hurts?” he taunted.

You licked your lips. “It’s not good unless it hurts.”

The slight irritation that flashed in his eyes spurred you on. You tightened around his cock, exhaling with a hiss. Fitting him to you, bringing out the dominance in him. Jungkook gritted his teeth and slammed his hips into yours. You had the audacity to chuckle.

“Did you really want me that bad, Jungkook?” you teased. “Or were they only pretty words? Are you a tiger or just a cute little bunny?”

Jungkook snarled low in his chest.

Then he began to fuck you, lifting your legs onto his shoulders and pressing down, smacking your ass with his hips. The position made you tighter, gravity making him pound you harder, forcing you to feel all of him as drove his rock-hard cock into you. Your hands flew up, one pressed against the headboard, the other clutching a pillow for dear life, eyes squeezing shut at the fullness and harshness.

“A-ah, fuck, yes,” you gasped. “So fucking good…”

Jungkook brought his face close to yours, hitting you deeper and just as hard. “Where’s your smirk now? Can’t give me one when you’re being punished by this cock?”

Your heart jerked in your chest at his dirty words, becoming even wetter with the dangerous edge to his voice.

“Listen to you, fucking dripping down my thighs with how wet you are for me,” Jungkook hissed, inhaling sharply as you throbbed hard around him. He groaned, clenching his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t help myself, I just have to fuck you like an animal.”

You snickered dryly, jerking your hips up to meet his. Not saying anything, letting your pussy do the talking because you were so close to orgasm that you roughly massaged his entire length, throwing your head back and moaning as you came around him. The squelching sounds between your connected hips got louder, drenching the air with the scent of sex and lust.

Jungkook sank his teeth into his lower lip, grimacing. “Fucking unfair how good you feel,” he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut, ramming his hips into you, muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. “Can’t even last, fuck.”

He crashed his hips into yours and growled your name in his throat, cock smacking against your walls as he came, swelling the condom full. You whimpered in ecstasy, back arching, clenching around his cock.

“Yes, Jungkook, oh, yeeees…”

It wasn’t enough.

Neither of you had had enough.

Jungkook gripped the end of the condom and pulled out, hissing at the sensitivity as he took it off. You tossed him a spare towel from the nightstand drawer and he cleaned himself, gasping.

“Hands and knees.”

You rolled over, flinging the box of condoms at him, and he caught it, dark eyes glinting.

“Spread that pussy for me.”

You reached back and planted your hands on each ass cheek pulling your wet slit open. Jungkook hissed and you could hear skin on skin of him jacking himself off to get hard again. An idea popped into your head.

You flexed your vaginal muscles, opening and closing your hole for him.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re so damn sexy it’s illegal.”

You heard him get onto his knees. The sound of a condom being ripped open. His groan as he fitted the condom over his aching cock. His strong hands gripped your hips, the head rubbing against your entrance.

“Don’t know how long I can last,” he murmured. “I’m just going to go as hard and as fast as I can.”

“Do it, Jungkook,” you panted. “Make me feel you for days.”

He whimpered at your words and sank into you. Both of you moaning, your hands clutching the sheets, his fingertips bruising your skin, imprints of lust. Jungkook was pure, glorious power that threatened to overtake you, his cock throbbing and digging into your walls as he fucked you hard, muscular thighs slapping into yours. The poor bed could barely take it, but neither of you noticed, lost in the feeling of being filled and doing the filling.

His hand came down on your ass, a sharp, harsh sound that echoed off the walls and made your pussy clench. It barely hurt. You had felt worse before.

“You like that?” he panted.

“Fuck yes I do,” you gasped hotly. “Spank my ass, Jungkook.”

He did, thrusting into you and slapping you repeatedly, making your ass jiggle. You squeezed him each time, now rolling your hips back into him, arching your back as you came with a satisfied sigh. Your skin stung, your pussy was pulsating with abuse, and Jungkook’s cock hit all your deepest spots.

“Fuck, Jungkook, you’re so fucking good at fucking me,” you breathed, feeling him wind you up again.

He couldn’t even reply, only loudly moaning through the convulsions of your pussy radiating up and down his length. Good thing the walls were pretty soundproof, because it was a goddamn porno in the bedroom at the moment. It was obscenely lewd with the wet slapping of his hips into yours.

“So close, so close, squeeze me, fuck, choke my damn dick,” Jungkook rambled in between breaths, hissing as you did as you were told, gripping him every time he slammed into you. He came with a half-scream, half-moan of your name, whining at the sensitivity as you pulsed around him, leaking down his thighs and yours. It smelled so strongly of sex that you weren’t sure how you were supposed to clean this up before Yoongi came home.

Your phone buzzed loudly on the bed.

You grunted, clawing for it as Jungkook remained inside you, softening but refusing to leave your warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your back.

You checked your messages. From Yoongi.

Your gift needs to get his ass to practice before he gets yelled at.

“Jungkook, you’re gonna be late.”

He groaned in annoyance, squeezing you tighter. Another message popped up.

Tell him there’s plenty of time before I fully recover. If he works hard and does a good job, maybe after I recover too.

You poked Jungkook. He lifted his head, pouting, eyes changing to excitement when he read the message.

-

part ii “You’re not allowed to leave until your noona is satisfied.”

--

masterpost

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

series taglist: @angelreyesgirl89 @holl2712 @relaxing-najee @thedeviltohisangel @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @amorestevens @witching-hour @seize-the-droid @rosieposie0624 @sesamepancakes @est1887 @queenbeered @ticosas @blessedboo @helli4nthus @katjusja @melanicia @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @moneteguiza

mayans taglist: @lilacyennefer @pedropcl @holl2712 @rae-gar-targaryen @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @henrycavill19 @silverstarsandsuns @chellybear98 @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​​ @noz4a2​​ @wiccanmetallicrose​​ @crxssourbones​​ @kimljn​​ @starrynite7114​​ @richonne4life​​  @themarkblues​​ @mariaxliliana​​ @thelovelyleo23​​ @hail-horror-queen​​ @gemini0410​​ @binooo98​​ @the-jer-bear​​ @abbiesthings​​ @losolvidad0s​​ @helli4nthus​​ @babaohhhriley​​ @futureleo1678​​ @whatupitshuff​​ @trhett21​​ @trulysuccubus​​ @minnicelli​​ @sillygoose6969​​ @capnsaveahoe​​ @leahnicole1219​​ @crashbarbie​​ @cyka1312​​ @zoovent​​ @lakamaa12​​ @keithseabrook27​​ @vir-tually​​ @awkwardtayler​​ @rawrlittlepanda-95​​ @irenne-stans​​ @pearlkitten33​​ @ezs-baby-angels-whore​​ @sesamepancakes​ @toni9​ @vannabanana1995​ @queenbeered​ @shawty-fenty​ @kaystacks17​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @anactualcaseofthetruth​ @star017​ @cant-decide-at-this-moment​ @cocotheclown​ @watsonwise​ @ilovebey2018​ @oscars-wifeyyy​ @rosieposie0624​ @jennisdirtyimagines​  @ughdontbeboring​ @jjwriter23​ @briskywalker​ @peoniarose​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @partypoison00​ @making-starsdance​ @claytoncardenasbabymama​ @myakai13

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

In My Dreams Tonight

for @chaotic-bard who asked me for some fluff!

have a soulmates that dream about each other au featuring both a modern au and the canon universe!

brought to you by “Dreams Tonite” by Alvvays

---

“You’re nothing but trouble, bard,” the tall man glared from atop his horse. He always seemed to be glaring or glowering or huffing, the man in Jaskier’s dreams. The familiar stranger wore his long white hair pulled halfway back and he had golden eyes, the pupils of which were slit up the center like a cat’s. His name, Jaskier had learned after the third straight week of seeing him every night, was Geralt of Rivia. A Witcher, apparently, whose job it was to hunt down monsters.

“Ah, but what a lovely piece of trouble I am!” Jaskier replies. And he’s rather sassy himself in these dreams. Far more clever and ready to fight than he is when he’s awake. “You would miss me if I left, wouldn’t you, Geralt?”

“Hmm.”

The stranger hums a lot. He glares and he hums. Jaskier’s heart stutters frightfully in his chest whenever the man smiles, though. The sight is rare. Geralt has smiled perhaps three times in the past two months.

“Where are we going today?”

“Werewolf outside of town. You’re staying at the inn, where I know you can’t get into… nevermind. You can get into trouble anywhere.”

There’s a lightly teasing tone to the stranger’s voice that Jaskier hasn’t really heard before. He likes it. He craves more of it. He tosses and turns in his sleep, his skin damp with sweat. The dream goes on.

“Geralt, please,” he whines, “I can’t write ballads about monsters I haven’t seen! Or fights I did not attend! That’s lying to my audience, Geralt, and I simply won’t do it. I must go with you.”

“Drop it, Jaskier,” the man snarls. Jaskier feels sad. Incredibly sad.

Rejected?

“Gera-”

“I said drop it, bard.”

Jaskier wakes up feeling a little heartbroken and he yearns to be held. His pillow holds the fading scents of leather and wood-smoke. The sight of a pine sapling at the dog park makes him tear up.

He starts to wear the color yellow out of nowhere and his taste in jewelry switches from gold to silver. 

When his best friend asks him about the recent changes, he cannot answer.

---

Geralt pours himself a mug of tea and shakes his hair out of his face. He’s been having odd dreams lately, things that feel familiar but manage to stay just out of his conscious grasp. Someone important is waiting for him. Someone he love and cares about and needs. 

Geralt doesn’t really buy into the concept of soulmates, but he does understand instinct. He knows to trust his gut. He knows to listen and start paying attention when the same haunting blue eyes creep into his dreams every night for six months, plaguing him in the waking hours by refusing to give up their owners’ identity. 

He wipes a hand down his face and sighs loudly into the otherwise empty studio apartment. “Fuck me, I gotta figure this shit out. I gotta talk to Yen.”

Talking to himself has always helped him calm down. He does it again, just to hear his own low voice scraping through the silence. 

“I gotta see what’s going on with my head. These dreams are… getting to be a bit much, even for me.”

He nods to no one in particular and goes to text his best friend and coworker.

---

Jaskier hops off the bus and carries his guitar case down to the coffee shop on the corner. Finally, he’s managed to get a gig that wasn’t through the university.

He sets up his stuff in the tiny alcove the shop treats as a stage and watches as a few customers stroll around near the counter, waiting for their drinks or reading through the menu, hovering just far away enough from the line to keep others from growing confused.

He loves people watching. 

Once everything is ready to go and the light outside the window has dimmed a bit, indicating early evening has finally arrived, he pulls his guitar onto his lap and strums through a few quick chords.

“Rode here on the bus,

Now you're one of us.

It was magic hour,

Counting motorbikes on the turnpike;

One of Eisenhower's.”

 “Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who starts a fire just to let it go out?”

He watches a particularly handsome man with broad shoulders and a vintage denim jacket approach the counter. Jaskier adds a haunting, well-practiced lilt to his voice as he goes into the chorus, hoping to get his attention:

“If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight?

If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight, tonight?”

An equally beautiful woman with long, curly black hair approaches the denim-clad angel and whisks him towards a table nearby. She settles with her back to Jaskier, leaving him with a decent view of the man’s sharp, lightly stubbled jaw, glittering eyes, and severe white ponytail. He’s gorgeous.

He’s also uncomfortably familiar.

Jaskier continues to perform, trying to identify his attractive mystery man the whole time and failing miserably.

---

“He’s everywhere, Yen. I feel like I could identify him by scent if I got close enough. I can’t remember his name, though. Or the color of his hair. I don’t know his face, only his eyes. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Have you talked to Dr. deStael about it?”

“Yeah, but she said this kind of thing is normal. Recurring dreams often help us sort out our trauma or something like that. I don’t know. I don’t feel traumatized by this guy I feel… protective of him. Maybe even like I love him?”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

“Shut up for a minute, this live music actually slaps and I want to listen to it. Then we can discuss your weird possessive tendencies towards your dream boyfriend.”

Geralt takes a slow sip of his coffee and glances up at the singer off to their left, perched on a barstool with his guitar held carefully on his lap. His voice is soft but somehow bright. Geralt finds himself utterly entranced.

“On the weird guitar;

Said you'd go to work

In the waking hour.

In fluorescent light,

Antisocialites watch a wilting flower.”

 “Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who builds a wall just to let it fall down?”

The lyrics are strange and hold a dream-like quality to them. They draw a picture in Geralt’s head, something dark and heavy and oddly hollow. He has another sip of coffee and tries to ignore the feeling of panic welling up inside him. He glances at Yennefer to see if she’s picked up on his mood, but her violet eyes are focused on the singer and his nimble fingers as he continues to play and sing.

When he glances up towards their table and their eyes meet, Geralt loses the ability to breathe.

That shade of cornflower blue was…

Couldn’t be…

Had to be…

The gorgeous, feathery tenor continues to fill the air, whirling pleasant notes past his ears and deep into his subconscious. Geralt knows that voice. He’s heard this man laugh and sing and cry and scream a thousand different times. Through a handful of different lives. Geralt knows that face, those hands, those strong legs and long arms and blue fucking eyes. He’s held this singer in his arms every night for centuries, feeling his breathing as they both drift off to sleep.

He has protected this man and been protected by him in return. He has kissed and been kissed, caressed and been caressed. The two men sitting across from each other in the coffee shop physically embody an endless cycle of love. It has been bound up in the souls of two no-longer strangers. Geralt knows that he knows this man. 

He knows Jaskier.

Petal pink lips continue to form soft words and slender hands keep plucking at vibrating guitar strings:

“Don't sit by the phone for me,

Wait at home for me, all alone for me.

Your face was supposed to be

Hanging over me, like a rosary.”

Geralt stands suddenly, startling Yennefer but not the performer, even though he’s clearly just as shocked as Geralt about this recent development.

Their mutual realization.

“So morose for me,

Seeing ghosts of me,

Writing oaths to me,

Is it so naïve to wonder…”

Geralt crosses the room to the edge of the stage in three quick strides. Yennefer is close behind him, her latte just as abandoned as his coffee at their table. She grabs her friend’s arm as if to stop him from doing something violent, but when he doesn’t struggle against her grip she lets it go again easily. 

“Geralt?” the musician asks.

“Jaskier?” Geralt replies. The guitar is placed quickly to the side and a pair of incredibly familiar arms are thrown around the taller man’s neck. Geralt hugs back just as firmly, his arms flung low around the brunette’s waist. Geralt knows that this is Jaskier’s favorite way to be embraced; he doesn’t know how he’s aware of that fact, but it comes to the front of his mind clear as day. 

“Holy shit,” Jaskier breathes, leaning back to stare Geralt in the face. One of his string-calloused fingers traces down over Geralt’s eyelid and cheek and he cocks his head to the side. “No scar?”

“No,” Geralt shakes his head. “Not this lifetime, I guess.”

“Were we? Are we- are we, you know...?”

“Yeah,” Yen beams, adding her two cents from the sidelines. “I think so. Congrats, boys. This is one of those one in a million chances and you’ve gone and done it.”

“Done what?” Geralt asks. Jaskier tosses his head back and laughs. His happiness rings out through the cafe like a struck bell and Geralt’s heart stutters frantically. He really does love this man already. Wholeheartedly and without fear. “What have we done, Yen?”

“As obtuse now as you were then,” Jaskier chides affectionately. “Soulmates, my love. We’ve been bound by the red string of fate and ta-da! Here we are. Again, apparently.”

“Yes, okay,” Geralt breathes, nosing his way along Jaskier’s jaw with giddy determination. He presses a quick and wholly welcome kiss to the bard’s lips. “That makes sense.”

 “Do you... do you want me again? This time around?” Jaskier asks, fingers fiddling with one of the ties on Geralt’s hoodie. A pair of chapped lips press against his again and he sighs into it, melting against his no-longer-Witcher. 

“Yes. And the next one, as well.”

[camslightstories]

Tolerate it - Part 3

Notes: I wanted to thank all of you for the love and support, it means a lot. I don't think my writing is very good, but I been improving and I'm really glad you guys liked it. I will be updating tomorrow. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it

I added a prompt list to my page, so if you have any request you can use that for your idea, or if you have already one then its okay. I write for everything. If you have any request just tell me I will gladly write it. I receive any type of feedback, comments and request. Have a great day.

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. 

The afternoon came around and the sunlight illuminated the house. Boxes of Christmas decorations were piled in the living room. The soft Frank Ocean music was heard in the background. The smell of chocolate occupied the house.

A few hours after you left, your mom stood in the kitchen. With the phone on her ear as she waited for your sister to pick it up. Her eyes ranked over the entrance of the house, as she remembered how weirdly you were acting. 

The hand dribbling in your thigh, the way you didn't talk more of a sentence. Your constant staring at the beach is the same thing you did without knowing as a kid when your father died. The silence as you worked putting the boxes away, was another giveaway since every time you would be doing anything you would hum a song. 

The way you awkwardly answered when she asked you about Lena, and you didn't fangirl over her as you always did, even though the two of you were in a relationship. The way your glance painfully glanced at certain places and tears would threaten to come out, as you immediately brushed off. 

She knew you enough to tell you were different, and that is why she was calling. She knew one of your sisters would obviously know something about it. The long phone rang a few times before Alex picked up.“Danvers, speaking”

“Hey sweetie, how are you? How is Maggie?” Your mom responded.

The redhead said as she smiled. After a time, their relationship grew stronger. “Hi mom, we're both good, today is our day off, and you?” 

Eliza mentioned as she took a sip of her chocolate.“That's great honey, I'm good, your sister came to visit me today”

“Yeah, Kara told me she was going to go since she needs an interview for the girl she is mentoring after New Years'. But I thought she was going on Saturday” Alex responded as she nodded to Maggie to not stop the TV.

“No honey, Y/N. She came to put some boxes away in the storage.” Your mom responded as she put her mug on the kitchen island.

“Ohh I thought she had to work on the pastries for the DEO gala tomorrow and the classes,” Alex said confused. You guys told each other everything, from you having a dumb thought to you accomplishing your dreams.

“No, she didn't mention it. She seemed different to Alex, she just didn't seem as herself” Your mom mentioned.

“What do you mean mom?”Alex said as she sat up on the couch, Maggie stopped the movie and stared in worry at her fiance.

Eliza said “Well she put at least 12 boxes away and she was just not herself, she kept staring at the ocean. And when I mention Lena she just awkwardly answered trying to avoid her”

“That's weird” Alex commented after mouthing to her fiance ‘Y/N’ after Maggie asked what was wrong.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you if something happened. Because Alex she hasn't been like that since Jeremiah” Your mom said as she glanced outside to see where you sat.

“Nothing has happened that I know of. But I will go check on her. Don't worry okay mom? I will call you later” The redhead responded as she got up.

“Be safe, Sweetie and I love you, say hi to Maggie for me” Your mom concluded as she walked outside to see your drumsticks on the storage.

Your sister said, before ending the call, as she turned to Maggie. “I love you too, okay mom” 

Maggie stared at her fiance, as she asked “What's wrong with baby Danvers?”

“Mom said she was different, she said she was acting like when Dad died,” The redhead said with tears. You had felt in a silent depression when Jeremiah died, and it left slowly after a few years. 

She had told you when you were born she was going to protect you at all cost, and when Kara entered the Danvers family the blonde did the same. And you as the baby of the family you promised yourself you were going to protect you as they did to you, and you were going to sacrifice everything if it meant for them to be okay and happy.

Maggie knew that the bond between the three of you was strong, and she had witnessed it various of times. When Alex was kidnapped, while she and Kara were fighting you were talking to Alex the whole time, and even offer yourself to change places with the guy’s father confessing to a murder you didn't do.

Or when Kara had solar flares you were helicoptering around her, you would check out what she would eat, or where she was going, everything. And when both of them got into a Life or Death situation with Cadmus you had yelled at them until exhaustion. And cried for the next week clinging to them from waking up to sleeping.

And when you got hurt, Kara and Alex would stop everything just to comfort you. When Barry broke up with you, she, Winn, and James had to stop Kara and Alex from going to beat him up because he broke your heart as he chose Iris over you.

Maggie and Alex were walking down the street, before entering JJ’s, one of your workplaces. The redhead furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed a new girl at the counter doing her job. Maggie noticed Amelia on the register working and signaled Alex to talk directly to the manager. 

“Hey Alex, Maggie. How can I help you guys?” The brunette said as she noticed the couple.

Alex responded as she looked around “Hey Am, I'm looking for Y/N, I thought she had an afternoon shift, or is she at the school?”

“She didn't tell you?” Amelia commented surprised.

Alex recountered worried “Tell me what?”

“She was fired from the school two weeks ago since they found a ‘better fitting music teacher’ and well JJ fired her this morning after she slept in here last night” The brunette mentioned.

Maggie and Alex begin surprised and worried about the newfound information. Alex started to think about the trust and abandonment issues you had. Maggie noticed her partner going into deep thought so she decided to take over the conversation.

“Wow, that's weird. Do you know where she might be?” The Latina asked.

Amelia answered as she pointed to a jewelry store at the front of the street.“She had me put some of her checks in Mr. Rogers name, she might be there”

“Thank you, Lia, see you,” The couple said as they nodded. The brunette nodded with a smile and kept working.

The streets in National City had always been busy, cars honking up and down the road, some people would often compare it to New York. The daylight of the afternoon illuminated the streets. The cold air and breeze still accompanied people even when the sunlight was up. 

“Good afternoon, to my favorite couple,” The old man said behind the counter with a smile, as Alex and Maggie entered.

Alex responded as she smiled and hugged the man. She had his help to find the perfect ring for Maggie, and now he was making their wedding bands “Hello Mr. Rogers, good afternoon”  

“I was going to call you Danvers” The man commented. 

Alex responded with a worried glance. “Why?”

“Well, your sister paid for outrageous engagement right, and then she came by this morning saying she didn't want it anymore and that I could donate all the money to the orphanage,” He said as he reclined on the counter, Maggie and Alex sharing a look of surprise. 

“She did what?”Alex dropped her jaw in surprise, making Maggie roll her eyes as she softly hit her fiance on the shoulder. Alex came out of her shock, just to speak up almost yelling.

“Yeah a $25 thousand ring, she paid in the last 2 years” Mr. Rogers commented, making your sister and Maggie enter in shock, not being able to say anything. 

“Let me get it for you so you can see the piece of art,” The old man said as he laughed going inside the back of the store. 

“Did you know she was going to propose?”The couple looked at each other before, asking millions of questions with their glances. Maggie recuperated herself first, before speaking up. 

“No, I knew she was in love with Lena but not that she was going to propose” Alex mentioned, as she clenched her jaw. 

How could you not tell her?, What other thing were you hiding? Weren't you supposed to tell her about things like this?, Weren't you supposed to trust her with everything?

“Here it is ladies”. Mr. Rogers said as he put in the counter a black box, Breaking Alex out of her thoughts, opening it when the couple came closer. 

Both of the women stared at the silver ring. The ring was simple but sophisticated. The diamond was but between a small infinite form. Alex and Maggie exclaimed at the same time. It was small, simple, and perfect for Lena. 

“Ohh wow,” Alex said.

Maggie commented “That looks so much like Lena”

The old man said, breaking them out of shock. Giving them 5 envelopes, “Do I still give the money to the orphanage? She also left this for you”

“Yes sir, thank you, I will see you around Mr. Rogers,” Alex responded before sighing as she checked the letters, no daring to open the one with her name. There were five letters in total, with your handwriting. One for Lena, one for Maggie, one for your mom, and the other two for each of your sisters.

The man said with a wave, making the couple smiled.“Bye girls”

After a few minutes, of silence and thinking. Maggie started to think as a Detective recurring every single thing you did. “Okay let's go back and think, She was fired two weeks ago from begin a music teacher which was her primal income, she didn't tell anyone”

“Yes, then last night she slept at the bakery when she had a shared apartment with Lena, her girlfriend. And if they had fought she would have asked Kara or me to spend the night at our apartments.” Alex responded, stopping, seeing her fiance working technique.

Maggie said as pointing out each action. They knew you would often make decisions on feelings but this was out of your league. Leaving is not something you would do, your trust and abandonment issues making sure of that. “Because she slept overnight at the store, JJ fired her today, which she didn't tell anyone, then she canceled her perfect engagement ring order for Lena of 25 thousand dollars and told Mr. Rogers to give the money to the orphanage. Which was at least 2 years of her work” 

“Then she gives five letters to Mr. Rogers and asked him to give it to us and then she went to Mom's, with enough boxes to put away all of her things. Acting differently like when my dad died.” Alex said as she finished, taking a big breath, she knew something was wrong and now she didn't know what to do. She was mad at you but she was also scared of everything that has happened, and how haven't break.

“You don't think it has to do anything with Kara don't you?” Your sister said after Maggie and she shared a knowing look. Kara was also in love with Lena, her best friend. 

After 2 years of seeing you two together, the blonde had figured out. And she knew the blonde was hurting, when she saw Lena with someone else, better said with you. Alex didn't want to think about the fact that Lena somehow loves Kara too, and that if something happened you would be heartbroken, lost, and more. 

She couldn't think like that because she knew you would give up anything so that they could be happy and okay. And if you were hurting, Kara would be hurting too, knowing she hurt you. And she would have to stand at the side, as both of you were hurting because she couldn't do anything.

But why the letters? Why not a text, a call something? Why did you ask someone to give them? There was something that wasn't adding up.

The redhead was pulled out of her thoughts when her phone started to ring again, hoping it would be you. But was greeted with your sister's name on her screen. The redhead shared a look with Maggie before answering the phone.“Kar?”

The line was silent for a few seconds before the blonde blurted out. Making the redhead sighed, there it was.“Yesterday, I told Lena I love her”

[justcourttee]

The Never Ending Cycle of Proposals

This is a continuation of this post and the idea was presented by @mystery-5-5 . I was so excited to finish it and hope you like it! :)

This was not how it was supposed to go.

Damian had made sure of it. He found and destroyed every contingency plan that Jason and the others had formed. He flew Marinette back to Paris, to her parent’s bakery so that they could be a part of the moment. There should be no possible way things could go sideways.

Clearly he had underestimated the members of Date Duty.

“-and then Marinette fell down the stairs! Can you believe it? It was her big debut at the Wayne Gala as Damian’s girlfriend and this girl got so nervous that she tripped over her own two feet.”

“That’s our Marinette. As graceful as ever.”

A boisterous laughter filled Damian’s ears as the bakery door snapped shut behind him. Checking his watch, he tried to recall how long he had been gone. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. How did Jason get to Paris?

“Oh! Damian sweetie, look who just flew in to check in on us and low and behold, he didn’t even know that you and Marinette had the exact same thought! How crazy is that?”

Damian plastered on his best fake smile as his eyes attempted to burn Jason’s smirk off his face.

“Very crazy indeed Sabine. Do you mind if my brother and I excuse ourselves for a moment?”

“Oh! Not at all, we should really be getting ready to open anyways. Please, feel free to head up to the apartment. Marinette should be back from Alya’s soon, but make yourselves at home boys.”

They both nodded as Damian stalked behind Jason, forcing him to take the steps two at a time. As Jason threw open the door, he finally released the laughter that he had been holding back.

“I really didn’t think you were going to make it. If you actually had any powers, I would’ve been scared for my life down there.”

“I don’t need powers to kill you Todd.”

Jason reached out to ruffle Damian’s hair, his smirk only fueling the smaller boy’s rage.

“What are you doing here Todd? This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for Marinette to see her parents. You are neither relaxing or her parents.”

“Oh don’t be coy with me Dami, I know what you’re really here for, we all do in fact. Did you really think you could get away with proposing to Marinette without getting through us first? You only tore up some fake plans, plans meant to lure you into revealing when you were going to propose. Considering how quick you were to get Marinette on a plane without saying goodbye tells me you plan on doing it this week.”

Damian counted backward from ten as he tried to consider all of his options left. He had taken into consideration that the plans could be fake, but there should’ve been no way that they could’ve tracked him to Paris. He paid in cash at the airport for the tickets and flew economy, economy for crying out loud!

“I thought your whole little club was to protect Marinette from heartbreak, there was no mention of protecting her from proposals.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong Damian.” The look on Jason’s face was unnerving to say the least, but Damian refused to back down. This was his girlfriend, his soon to be finance, and the only woman he wanted to love for the rest of his life. There was no way he would let some street rat like Jason stop him.

“I refuse to allow you to ruin this Todd.”

“Allow implies that you think you have control over this and I can assure you that you don’t. Marinette will not be leaving Paris with a ring on her finger, marriage is out of the question. You are lucky that we have allowed you two to be together for so long. You are too dangerous for her demon spawn and marriage places an even larger target on her back than the one she already has.”

“Are you prepared to be defeated protecting your ideals Todd?”

“Are you Damian?”

Damian felt the low growl in the back of his throat itching it’s way forward. He was so close to Jason’s face, he could end this right here and now, throw him in the guest room and never look back.

“Damian? Jason? What are you two doing here? And alone at that?”

Both turned their attention to the door where Marinette stood, a sheepish expression on her face as if she could feel the tension radiating off the two men.

“Hey princess! I was just stopping by to check in on your parents and I definitely had no idea that you and Damian were here! You two lovebirds should’ve told someone before running off to Paris like that.”

Jason pulled Marinette into a tight hug, sticking his tongue out behind her head at Damian.

“Well, I did. I told Adrien just in case anything happened.”

One look at Jason’s smug expression and Damian knew. One little blonde went racing to his brother before he and Marinette had even boarded the plane.

“Oh that’s good then, I’m glad someone knew. I’ll leave you two alone now, after all, I have places to be and people to see and I’m sure you have a wonderful vacation planned for Damian here.”

Marinette nodded with little enthusiasm as she waved bye to Jason, locking the door behind him.

“Damian, what was that about?”

He shook his head as he pulled her forward placing a small kiss on her forehead.

“I wish I knew habibti.”

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

Damian was on full alert for the next couple of days, unable to relax and enjoy his time with Marinette’s family for fear that one of his nemesis would pop out at any moment and steal the ring hidden safely inside his coat pocket. Every once in a while, he would find his hand absentmindedly searching for the box, just as a reassurance that it was still there.

He wasn’t scared of the members of Date Duty, but he was scared that the moment that he had planned out for so long would be ruined by a handful of imbeciles.

“Oh look! It’s Chloe and Luka! I didn’t know they were in town.”

Damian's attention became hyper focused as he narrowed in on the suspicious couple waving them over. There was no way that two members of Jason’s little club decided to fly back on the same week that he and Marinette did.

He smiled and shook hands with Luka as they chatted idly for a few minutes. Marinette promised to catch up with them later before leaning in to hug Chloe. The blonde turned her attention to him as she leaned in and hugged him bye as well. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing suspicious, nothing-

“Fuck.”

Damian’s hand went straight to his now empty pocket. He searched frantically to be sure that it hadn’t fallen in any holes that he wasn’t aware of, but alas, it was gone. Marinette held onto his hand tightly, concern filling her eyes, but he waved her off.

If that’s how Todd wanted to play, then fine. Damian was ready. It was time for Jason to bring it on. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Damian wasn’t sure how he thought the rest of the week would play out, but this was not it.

Monday he had gone to buy another ring when he ran into Tony Stark. He claimed he was there to get his wife a unique gift from Paris. Turns out a unique gift meant buying her every jewelry store in Paris, or at least majority shares, effectively destroying Damian’s chances of finding a new ring.

Tuesday he decided to just propose without the ring, after all, it just meant she could pick out a new one whenever they hit stateside again. They had made it all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower, watching the sunset with her curled into his side as they leaned on the railing. He wanted to wait until the tower had cleared a bit, right when the sun dipped below the horizon, but much to his fear a large squeal erupted from the platform.

None other than Jagged Stone had decided to do an impromptu concert on top of the Eiffel Tower. Soon, between the noise and the crowd, Damian couldn’t even think straight, much less make space to go down on one knee. They called it a night with the question still on the tip of his tongue.

By Wednesday, Sabine had caught on to the real reason they were there. She pulled him to the side along with Tom where the both offered her engagement ring. Damian finally felt like he had caught a break. How foolish that was.

They walked into Marinette’s favorite restaurant that night only to find out that it had been bought out for the night by the Agreste family. He apparently decided that this would be an excellent date night spot for him and Kagami.

Thursday came and went with no attempts made. He had barely made it out of bed when he heard two voices in the kitchen. Praying to whatever God would hear him, Damian opened the door only to feel his heart drop. Tim and Dick sat in the kitchen while Marinette heated up some coffee, telling her all about the business deal they were taking care of in Paris.

Lucky for them, they had a day off and wanted to spend it with their favorite couple.

As Friday’s sun rolled in, Damian felt defeated.

“Mon amour, are you even listening?”

Damian nodded absentmindedly as he fiddled with the ring in his pocket.

“So do you want to go to this little reunion dinner tonight?”

“With who?”

“With my old classmates? I think Dick and Tim might stop by if they get out early today. Should be fun!”

He attempted a smile for her sake as he sent her a small nod. So on their last night in Paris, they all decided to gather in one spot making it impossible for Damian to sneak out with Marinette. It felt pretty foolproof.

“Damian, why have you been so out of it lately? This whole week you have been constantly checking over your shoulder. Are you worried about something?”

Marinette gathered his hand as she sunk on to the bed beside him.

“I just wanted this trip to be special, but a couple of special idiots have proved to make that nearly impossible. I don’t know how you dealt with them over the years.”

“Well, it felt nearly hopeless. I was convinced I was going to be single forever, but one man swooped in and saved me making me feel like there was nothing those special idiots could do. I’d like to think that he feels the same way when it comes to me. After all, a proposal doesn’t need to be in some big memorable place, it just needs to be between two people who love each other.”

Damian’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water as he tried to stutter out a denial, but it was hopeless. His cheeks felt like they were a hundred degrees as her laughter floated through the air.

“How did you know?”

“Date Duty had been disabled for a year and a half now. For them to all conveniently show up in Paris on the same week that we did? Well I’m not a big believer in coincidences when it comes to that group.”

Damian reached inside his pocket, pulling out the delicate ring that Sabine had given him a few days prior. A few tears formed in the corner of Marinette’s eyes as she covered her splitting smile with her hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you have amazed me at every turn since the first time I saw you many years ago. You are a strong, creative, loving and beautifully confident woman. You are my first thought in the morning and my last as I drift to sleep at night. I can’t imagine living with anyone else by my side. Please, will you marry me?”

Marinette nodded as she offered her left hand, allowing him to slip on her mother’s ring. It was no where close to the proposal that he had planned, but as her lips crashed into his, it couldn’t have made him happier.

Maybe when he saw Jason’s little club tonight, he would thank them.

After all, they lead him to the woman he loved and without their persistence, his relationship wouldn’t be as strong as it is today.

He had finally broken the never ending cycle, and man, did it feel good.

Tag List:

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[drmmyrs]

Dropped (Becca x MC)

So.. this is my first fic ever. Just finished with the freshman series and just thought I’d give it a shot. Planning to do fics of Queen B once I mined enough diamonds to actually read the book. Planning to do a Part 2 but I dunno let’s see. Let me know what you guys think and I’d really appreciate feedback/constructive criticism. Hope you enjoy and if not, thanks for reading anyways :))

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Word Count: 934

Warnings: Some swearing

Emily called Becca for the 10th time and, again, it went straight to her voicemail. She took out the wrapped gift from her bag and twiddled with the jewelry box. Becca had said numerous times that she doesn't need expensive and flashy things, Emily by her side is more than enough. But Emily decided as soon as she saw the longing in Becca's eyes when looking at the expensive necklace, that she has to get Becca the jewelry, even if it means living off of instant ramens and McDermots for a while. — Emily and Becca found themselves inside a jewelry store during one of their shopping dates.

"You see something you like?"

Becca turned her gaze to Emily and slowly walked towards her. She took Emily's hands with hers and gently lifted them up to her lips.

"When you're with me, I always do." Emily then knew that the girl holding her hand is now in charge of holding her heart. For better or worse. — It had almost been an hour of Emily waiting for Becca at this fancy restaurant to celebrate their one-year anniversary. As if sensing her distress, the waitress approached Emily and asked if she was expecting her company any time soon.

"Just a few minutes more, maybe she'll show up soon," Emily said, holding on to the single thread of hope that remained. Maybe she just got caught up in class, she thought, even though she knew that Becca's classes should have ended hours ago.

The waitress looked at her with sympathy. "I'm sorry, honey. If she made you wait for an hour, maybe she's not worth a minute more."

"It's supposed to be our one-year anniversary," Emily mumbled. "I'm sorry. I'll just go." She got out of the restaurant before she can embarrass herself further.

As Emily arrived at their apartment, she sat at the table, resting her head on her hands, pushing back thoughts that something bad might have happened to Becca. An hour later, Emily heard the door open. She quickly stood up and approached Becca.

"Where were you?"

"Why? I was with Chloe. We were studying for an upcoming exam," Becca said nonchalantly.

Emily balled up her fists, anger taking over her body. "Well, do you wanna know where I was?"

"Not really. But fine, please indulge me," Becca said sarcastically as she walked across the room to get a glass of water.

"I fucking waited for an hour at the restaurant. I looked like a fucking idiot, Becca!" Emily said, biting back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"What were you doing there anyway?" Becca asked as she chugged the glass of water.

Silence

"Oh shit, that's today? Sorry, I forgot." Becca said in such a calm manner that just managed to anger Emily more.

"I reminded you yesterday. I texted you about that earlier today." Emily's teeth were grinding.

"My phone was off the whole day. Look, sorry, I'm tired. Can we talk about this in the morning?"

Emily stared at her incredulously.

"It's our one-year anniversary, Becca! Is that what you're only gonna say?" The anger in Emily's voice now replaced with pain.

Becca snapped. "Oh, sorry. How about, I'm so fucking happy that I've spent one year with you nagging me?!"

"Nagging?-

Emily smelled the hint of alcohol on Becca.

-are you drunk?"

"We might have had a few drinks. Listen, we'll talk in the morning. I can't handle you shouting right now." Becca started retreating to the bedroom.

"I have every right to be mad Becca, you forgot our anniversary and didn't even bother to update me! And it's not just even that. Lately, you've always been spending time with your new friend like I don't even exist!" Emily's voice was breaking.

Becca stops, looks back at Emily momentarily, and then continues her way to the bedroom, shutting the door without uttering a single word.

Emily stared at the closed door, still hoping that this was just some kind of mean joke. That when she opens the door, Becca will be waiting with open arms. I'm kidding babe, of course I didn't forget. Smiling that goddamn smile that always managed to ease all her pains and worries even on her worst days. The smile that promised love and forever. It's you and me against the world, babe.

But she knew deep down that nothing like that is gonna happen. What hurt her the most were not Becca's remarks, it's not even the fact that Becca forgot their anniversary, but it's how she looked at her like she's not even worth any more of her time. Like she was nothing. — On a lazy Saturday evening, Emily and Becca were lying in bed, Emily's head was on Becca's shoulder while one of Becca's arms was wrapped around Emily's waist. Emily was typing on her laptop while Becca was reading a book.

"I love you."

After the stunned silence that followed, Emily looked back at Becca with a shocked expression. "Wha- what did you say?"

Becca was looking at her with stars in her eyes like she's the most gorgeous woman in the world. "I said, I love you."

—

Emily walked over to the bedroom seeing that Becca was fast asleep, and, instead of the usual warmth that comes with it, an immense pain spread towards her chest. She stared at Becca for a while as she came to the realization that she had been too cowardly to admit. Becca had dropped her heart and she is now left alone to pick up the pieces. "You don't love me anymore, do you."

Read Part 2

[talkfastromance4]

5. Trigger--Ashton Irwin ‘Lovers in a Song’ series

a/n: The final installment is here! I’m so sorry for the delay but I kept bouncing back concepts on how I wanted it to end. This is a rollercoaster. You’re probably going to hate me then love me, then hate me again. Thank you all for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Word count: 11.5k

warnings: mentions of drug cartel/lords/paraphernalia, angst, heartbreak, sexual situations

Masterlist

LIAS masterlist

***

Cressida is awoken by two things, a loud peal of thunder and a combination of Ashton’s warm hands and mouth on her skin. For a moment she forgets that this is their last morning together. Ashton’s large hands lift up her nightgown and he curves his body to mold with hers as his lips kiss below her breast. His fingers rub at her skin in a tantalizing way, her body is humming. Then she hears him sniff and her eyes flash open. His cheeks are wet while he continues to kiss along her ribcage.

“Ashton?” she touches his hair and her heart shatters at the look on his face.

He’s pained. His cheeks are covered in tears, his pretty hazel eyes are bloodshot and his lower lip trembles. Cressida gathers his head against her chest, wrapping her arms and legs around his body so he’s crushing her, so that there’s no spaces between them. If she held him tight enough maybe they’d mold together and would never have to be apart.

His body shakes against hers, hot tears sting at her own eyes as he releases what he’s been holding in. The thought of losing her has finally come to life and it’s breaking him from the inside out.

“I’m trying to…get as much of you as I can,” he whines pressing his tear-stained lips to her neck. “I’m not ready to let go.” He chokes on the words as he tries to kiss her again.

She closes her eyes wishing it didn’t have to be this way. His lips on her skin are burned to her memory and after today that’s all it will ever be, a memory. She feeds into his desperation and sadness, their lips finding each other’s and Ashton presses into her.

Her cries turn to moans, her tears fall free, and Ashton’s movements are frenzied yet controlled. He wants this to last for as long as possible. She stabilizes his cheeks until he’s looking at her, his handsome face twisted.

“It’s okay,” she whispers tracing his brows, his nose, his lips. “It’s okay.”

He nods and slows his movements to a more controlled roll. Their kisses are bittersweet each time, a terrible reminder that their time is up. The storm has arrived. The axe has been swung.

“I love you,” he whispers on her neck lacing their fingers beside her head.

“I love you.”

They prolong the moment for as long as they can, one last thing they can do together, one last thing they’re in control of, but all good things must come to an end. And they arrived at that end together, sighing each other’s names. Soft caresses over shoulders and down hips are touches committing to memory.

“How did you find out?” she asks afterwards while petting his hair. Their legs are tangled, every part of him is touching every part of her.

The bad news he’s been dreading ever since Gavin and Cressida have been ‘together’ is coming into the light. Ashton and Cressida’s relationship has always had an expiration date but now that it’s finally here…it’s a lot worse.

“My assistant Phil and your assistant Chloe are yoga buddies and she told him you and Gavin will be announcing the engagement today,” Ashton responds sadly. His voice tickles her collarbone, and he nestles in closer to her, holding her tighter. “Did he actually buy a ring or is it a prop from your parents?”

“He bought it…I um…have it with me because after this I need to meet him at the Italian restaurant where we had our first ‘date.’” Cressida’s voice is oddly calm, but it doesn’t sound like her, it’s more robotic, monotone. “Paparazzi were tipped off we’d be there and that will be the first look.”

“Can I see it?” Ashton asks after a moment of shared sad silence.

“Ash, I don’t think that’s—”

“Please, Cressida,” he lifts his head, hair falling in front of his tired hazel eyes. “I need to see it.”

Cressida searches his face then finally nods and slips out from underneath him. She shifts through her coat that’s been on the floor since she dropped it there and pulls out a red ring box. Her hands are shaking as she hands him the box. They’re both naked, open and vulnerable to each other like they always have been but for the first time in their five-year long relationship, Cressida feels ashamed as he opens the box.

Ashton stares at the gaudiness of it. it’s a cushion cut diamond; the band covered in tiny diamonds. It’s much too large, so large that it looks like costume jewelry and although Cressida is a larger-than-life woman, she loves the softer things. She doesn’t need or want gaudy; this ring isn’t her at all.

“Hideous, isn’t it?” she tries to joke.

“It’s…” Ashton snaps the box shut, lifts his eyes to hers. Her hair is all mussed and her body is covered in love bites from him, his initials are still present on her belly. “We need to shower before you go.”

He leaves the ring on the center of their bed then grabs her hand leading her into the bathroom. Cressida’s arm loops around his naked waist as he turns the shower on, and they hug each other as the water warms up. The hot water stings their skin as they stand underneath it, she loves the steady stream on her head and the way Ashton’s fingers massage the shampoo into her scalp. She can’t keep her eyes off him as he rubs it out of her hair.

The water droplets roll down his cheeks and nose then disappear onto his lips. When her hair is rinsed out, Cressida grips his face and presses her lips to his. Ashton’s hesitant at first.

“We shouldn’t, angel, you might be late…”

“I won’t be,” she whispers dipping one hand in between them. She strokes him gently and he lets out a soft groan. “Please, Ash, I need you.”

“Fuck,” he moans then pushes her against the wall, his tongue stroking over hers.

Ashton lifts her in the air hiking her legs around his waist. She helps him enter her, biting his lip hard in the process by being filled again. He cups the back of her neck with a secure grip so when he starts to thrust her head won’t knock against the wall harshly. Her nails dig into the meat of his shoulders, his strong shoulders that embrace her so well.

Their breath is shared in heavy pants, lips knocking haphazardly as he thrusts, and she welcomes each one. Cressida whimpers as Ashton grunts, her toes curling in pleasure. Ashton’s tired of keeping his hand on the trigger of their love, so after she orgasms, he releases into her once more. When he pulls out and Cressida drops her feet to the shower floor, he can’t help but stare between her legs as his release drips out of her.

He knocks his forehead against hers. “That isn’t the ring I would have chosen for you.”

Her heart clenches at his words and closes her eyes. Does she dare ask what kind of ring he’d buy her? It would only twist the white-hot knife in her heart more.

“What kind would you buy me?” Apparently she wants to feel the pain.

“It’d be rose gold, a thin band with a round diamond. Not too big, not too small, but perfectly perfect, just like you.” He kisses her nose. “And I would have taken you back to that dive bar where we met and asked you to be the love of my life forever.”

Cressida opens her eyes to see Ashton already staring at her.

“You’ll always be the love of my life.”

*

The real goodbye is even harder as she tries one last attempt to fix the fall of their star-crossed affair. Her clothes are changed and she’s smeared make-up over the markings on her neck.

“What if I tell them I won’t marry Gavin?” she asks standing in the doorway. “He already knows about us and he doesn’t want this any more than we do.”

“If you don’t marry him, what will your parent’s do?” Ashton’s voice sounds tired because this is a conversation they’ve had many times over the last five years.

“I’ll be relinquished of my duties and cut off, but I don’t need the company or the money. I want you, Ashton. The truth is all I really want is somebody who wants me and that’s you. I want you.”

She touches his cheek, but all Ashton feels is the icy weight of her engagement ring on his skin. She put it on for the first time since the news will be broken to the world, but now its curtain call on their own love. The real show is to begin. It brands him in torture.

“I won’t have you throw away your future because of me, Cressida. This is how it’s supposed to be,” he replies sadly. “How it should have been, us making it linger only makes this worse.”

“We can change it! Please, Ashton,” she begs with tears welling in her eyes.

They stare eat each other, eyes having a silent conversation. She is screaming while he is silent in defeat and acceptance of their reality.

“You should go,” he kisses her palm then removes her hand from his face. “You’re the most valuable, the most precious, and the most beautiful gold in the world, Cressida. I’ll never stop loving you.”

Cressida breaks down burying her face in his chest. Her heart is breaking and even with Ashton’s arms around her, she isn’t getting fixed. Nothing can fix her now.

Six Months After Breakup—Cressida

Cressida’s walking along the aisles of flowers in the large nursery where she and Gavin are picking out flowers for their wedding. Their parents decided the wedding would be in the first weekend of May which fatefully falls on the anniversary of her and Ashton’s first meeting. It’s a cruel twist of fortune. She touches the smooth petals of a white calla lily, her engagement ring sparkling in the afternoon sun.

Cressida’s parents and Gavin’s parents are discussing a flower arch with the florist and Cressida decided to wander off. Her mind is on Ashton but when isn’t it? She’s always wondering what he’s doing, how he’s doing. Is she on his mind as well? She read in a fashion magazine that Lucinda broke up with him and is now dating some minor league baseball player claiming, ‘she’s never been happier.’ Cressida wanted to reach out and ask what happened to their planned marriage, but she decided not to.

Why add salt to a still open wound?

“I think these would look lovely in a bouquet,” Gavin says from behind her.

Cressida turns to see him holding up three marigolds, all of them a brilliant golden yellow. The plumes are lush and full, and the smell reminds her of summer. Cressida looks up to Gavin, his dark brown curls and even darker brown eyes. It’s taken them a long time but they’re finally friends. When Ashton told him to get sober, Gavin tried to but his footprint in the drug dealing world was too vast. She flashes back to that time three months ago.

After Cressida left The Golden Lion to meet with Gavin at the restaurant for their engagement appearance, his eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils made his eyes look like black holes. They made the photo opportunity short as possible, Cressida made sure to show off the engagement ring that felt like a weighted brick anytime she waved her hand around.

By the time they made it to her house, they were trending all over the world.

“I thought you were sober?” she asks throwing her bags on the floor.

“I’m trying,” he grumbles opening the fridge to take out a bottle of water. “Next time you see Irwin, I’ll be out of the ring.”

“I won’t be seeing him,” she mumbles pulling out her favorite bottle of wine from her wine cabinet. Her voice was back to the monotone.

“What do you mean?”

“You and I are getting married. It’s done. We’re done,” she pops the cork and walks outside to her deck by the pool.

Gavin disappeared for the next three days and at first Cressida didn’t care because then she could mourn over her and Ashton’s relationship in peace. Well, not really peace because she sobbed so loud in bed, in her pillow, in the shower.

It wasn’t until her mother called asking for her and Gavin to come over for brunch on Sunday to celebrate the joining of their families that Cressida started to worry. Both of his phones went straight to voicemail and it wasn’t until she got in contact with his best friend Jack that she discovered that’s where he was.

Cressida arrives at Jack’s place to find Gavin beaten up horrendously and lying on Jack’s couch. There’s so much dried blood and swelling on his face she barely recognized him. It took a few shakes and shouting his name before he opened his eyes, but even then they were tiny slits.

“What the hell happened?” Cressida asks in shock as her eyes roam over his body. His Armani shirt is torn and bloody, a very large red stain on the side of his stomach that is oozing onto the couch.

“Left the ring and they uh said this…” Gavin winces as he tries to sit up straighter, “was my farewell.”

“You need to go to the hospital, Gavin, you’re bleeding out.”

“No! I can’t let anyone know I was involved in—”

“You have enough money to keep this on the down low. I’m calling an ambulance,” she shakes her head and pulls out her phone.

While Gavin recovered for a week in the hospital, Cressida stayed with him. The cover story was that he got jumped outside of a hotel, nothing was stolen because he didn’t have anything of value, so they beat him up more for it. Everyone believed it.

The doctors wanted to give him morphine to help with the pain, but he refused because it would offset the other drugs that were still in his system. Cressida’s surprised and impressed that he actually means he’s going to be sober now. With the pain and the start of his withdrawals, he didn’t sleep very well through the night.  

On the fourth night he woke up gasping for breath, his body covered in sweat.

“Gavin! What is it? What’s wrong?” Cressida asks turning on the light to see his pillow wet from his sweat. His eyes are large as saucers.

“I’m…fine!” he grits through his teeth staring at the ceiling. “With—withdrawals that’s…. all…”

Cressida sat next to him on his bed and held his hand. His eyes shifted to hers and he grimaces.

“I don’t deserve your help…after what I did to you…”

“Shh, let’s not talk about that now,” she shakes her head. “Let’s get you through this.”

After that, she helped him each time he went through a bad spell. It helped distract her from thinking of Ashton, even though he was always on the back of her mind anyway. She went to meetings with him and helped him with other coping skills. After a month most of his wounds and bruises were healing and there was a new light about him.

When she came home from the office, the house smelled amazing, and he was in the kitchen cooking. His red wine sat at the center of the table and Cressida tried to force the memory of Ashton and that exact wine out of her mind.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I am officially sixty days sober today,” Gavin grins, “and I wanted to make you dinner as a thank you for helping me. I made some appetizers, come taste.”

She stands next to him and eats the appetizer he made, some kind of meatball with a sweet sauce. It’s very delicious. While she accompanied him to his meetings they shared a lot of heart to hearts and became closer than before.

“I also wanted to apologize for how I treated you,” he says pouring her a glass of wine. “And for what happened at The Golden Lion. It sounds like a poor excuse, but I never, ever meant to hit you. I’m so sorry that I did, I think about it all the time and hate myself for it.”

“I know you didn’t mean to and if anyone should be apologizing it should be me. I didn’t treat you very fairly either, Gavin. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for…cheating on you.”

“It’s not cheating when our relationship was never legitimate. I wasn’t faithful either,” he gives her an impish smile.

“I still feel bad about it. I was so wrapped up in….it should have stopped when we started this fake relationship anyway,” she shakes her head and takes a drink of his wine. Her mind swirls and her stomach gets butterflies as memories of Ashton invade her.

“I know it hurts you to talk about him,” Gavin says placing his hand on her shoulder. “I knew this would never be real to you. I know it’s arranged and…I wouldn’t be upset if you’d still want to see him.”

“That’s not fair to you, Gavin, and besides, Ashton and I are over, remember?” she swallows a big gulp of the red wine. It tastes different, it’s not as sweet as it was that night with Ashton. “I won’t be unfaithful to you in our marriage.”

“Let’s start as friends then,” he holds out his hand for her to take.

“Friends after three years of dating,” she giggles shaking his hand.

“We never really got to know each other. We were always so busy and when we were together, it was forced and publicized.”

“Very true,” she purses her lips then lifts up her wine glass. “To a new friendship.”

Their glasses clink and they share a wonderful evening over good food and to finally getting to know each other. He didn’t ask about Ashton and she didn’t offer it up. A clean slate is a clean slate, even though she’s still branded.

*

“Cress?” Gavin asks pulling her from her quick reverie. He’s holding the golden flowers in front of her.

“They are lovely,” she smiles dipping her nose into the multitude of petals. “And wouldn’t look too bad in the lapel of your jacket.”

“I can make any flower pop,” he grins handing her the small bouquet.

“Gavin! Cressida! Over here!” Cressida’s mother, Maria calls from the front of the nursery.

“We’re being summoned,” Gavin reaches for her hand then pauses, his brown eyes looking up at her. “May I?”

Cressida smiles and takes his hand in hers; her ring twists a little on her finger as she squeezes his hand. “You know you don’t have to ask.”

“I know, but every time I do you get a little flustered,” he smiles.

The rest of the afternoon is spent by going over more wedding plans; the guest list that is always being revised, the food menu that is always being altered, but the one thing that remains is Cressida’s stress and worry. When she worries she twists her ring and only stops when Gavin places his hand over hers gently. She looks up at him and he nods as if in understanding.

“I think my bride-to-be is a bit overwhelmed,” he announces to their parents who are bickering about the silverware. “Can we continue this some other time?”

“Oh, yes of course! We can’t have you wrinkling my dear,” Maria, Cressida’s mother smiles.

“Why don’t you two head on over to Rouge and tell them I’ve sent you, so you’ll only get the best of the best,” her father, Mark beams at his daughter.

“Thank you sir,” Gavin rises from his chair and Cressida kisses her father’s cheek.

“Thank you, Dad.”

“Enjoy yourself, darling. No need to stress.”

Gavin and Cressida do enjoy themselves as they drink and eat at the jazz restaurant. They even get up and dance when they’re called out by the band leader who spots them. Cressida is impressed by Gavin’s fancy footwork; he even lifts her up and spins her around which has them both laughing.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could dance,” she says breathlessly.

“I didn’t either, you brought it out of me.”

His eyes flicker to her lips and Cressida feels her stomach tighten. His hand on her lower back bunches up the fabric of her dress, his fingers squeezing her closer to his body. They’ve never been this close before and it makes her heart pound harshly against her chest. Gavin’s breath slows as he moves forward, his lips ebbing closer. She’s not sure if it’s butterflies or fear at the thought of possibly kissing someone other than Ashton so she pulls away.

“I need to um, use the ladies’ room,” she excuses herself and runs.

More moments like that have happened as they both become a bit more comfortable being close together. Their acting of intimacy doesn’t feel so forced anymore when they’re with their parents. When Cressida tenses at the mention of the ever-growing guest list (she lost count when it surpassed 1,500) Gavin rubs at her neck in assurance. When they’re overlooking options for dining ware, Cressida doesn’t hesitate to place her fingers on his lower back to peer over his shoulder.

That’s as far as their physical relationship has gone, innocent touches that leave a large impact and her mind swimming in many conflicting thoughts and emotions. It keeps her up at night and when she dreams she sees memories of Ashton morphing into Gavin.

It leaves her in even more confusion.

**

There’s laughter and chatter from her mother and friends sitting outside the dressing room of the bridal boutique. It’s her last fitting before the big day. The big day that has been looming over her head for years. Cressida hasn’t seen what the dress looks like, she’s only been sized and measured multiple times and asked questions about different designs of dresses that she liked.

“It fits you like a glove, Miss James,” the consultant Wendy gushes and fastens the last button. “Are you excited to see it?”

“Yes,” Cressida smiles at her warmly but inside she’s screaming.

“I’ll go out and make a grand entrance for you, just step onto the platform and you’ll see yourself in your wedding dress!”

Cressida took the split ten seconds to mentally prepare herself for the big reveal, to her entourage and to herself. Wendy opened the door and everyone on the white couch gasp as Cressida steps out. The fabric is cool between her fingers as she lifts it up to step onto the platform, keeping her eyes on the floor and not on the mirror yet. Wendy poofs out the bottom of the dress.

“You look divine, darling!” her mother says dotting at her eyes delicately with her fingers. “Do you love it?”

Cressida takes another deep breath then slowly lifts her gaze and gasps. The dress is absolutely beautiful and fits her figure wonderfully, she’s never felt more beautiful in a dress before. It’s perfect. The design is to her taste and with the veil attached to her head, she’s the perfect bride.

“Gavin is going to lose it when he sees you!”

“He won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

“Or his hands!”

More giggles ensue and they continue with their banter as reality sets in with Cressida the more she stares at herself. The dress is exquisite, a perfect dream, but while her entourage were gushing about Gavin, Cressida was picturing Ashton.

Ashton waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Ashton holding her hand as the pastor spoke. Ashton slipping the wedding band on her finger. Ashton telling her the vows he wrote and spoke with conviction. Ashton kissing her.

Ashton Ashton Ashton Ashton Ashton

!!!!!!

His name repeats like a haunted hymn trying to keep time with her rapid breaths. She feels hot. Too hot. She feels like she’s suffocating, and although the dress doesn’t have a high collar it’s as if she’s being choked. She needs to get out of it.

In a few short months she’ll be standing in front of Gavin. There’s a high-pitched ringing in her ears, the voices of her mother and friends are muffled, the light is too bright.

It isn’t until Chloe, her saving grace, catches her right before she’s about to fall off the platform. The other women are crowding around her, but Cressida can’t breathe, she needs air, she needs to get out of this dress.

“She’s fine, she’s fine, she started this new juice cleanse. I guess celery isn’t the one for her,” Chloe laughs off the quick excuse but helps her stand up. “Plus, with pre-wedding jitters and all. Let’s get you out of this for now, hm?”

Chloe drags her back into the dressing room where Cressida is gasping for air and waving her arms trying to unbutton the dress.

“I got it, I got it, hang on…” Chloe works quickly to undo the back of the dress.

Cressida lets out a loud gasp when she feels the dress pull away from her skin, she pulls off the cold shoulder sleeves quickly and carefully as possible. When she’s finally free she collapses to the floor in the heap of her dress, her vision is splotchy, and she sees stars. Chloe drapes the bridal robe over her shoulders and hugs her tightly.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe…easy, easy,” Chloe takes deep inhales and exhales with Cressida.

“I’m sorry, I-I-I…it all came real so fast, and I was picturing—”

“Ashton?” Chloe asks quietly and Cressida nods. Chloe hugs her until her heart has slowed, all the broken pieces of it.

Later that evening, Gavin found out she had a panic attack at the dress fitting. He became worried instantly and held onto her shoulders searching her eyes as if he could see the replay in them.

“How are you now? Do you need anything?” he asks concerned.

“I’m all right, it all hit me so fast when I saw me in the dress, that’s all,” she tries to smile then looks down and away from him.

“Hey,” Gavin ticks his finger under her chin, so she looks up at him, “We’re in this together. I promise I will take care of you and be your friend and confidant throughout all this. We can do this, Cress.” He pulls her into his arms, his embrace is tight, and it makes her feel better, she feels put together for a moment. “Why don’t you go take a bath and go to bed early?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” she sighs.

“I’ll get it ready for you,” he kisses the top of her head, gives her one more squeeze, then heads upstairs.

Cressida feels herself walking upstairs into her bathroom but it’s as if she’s on autopilot or watching herself from a distance. Gavin’s reading the back of one of her bath salts when she enters, and she looks at him. Really looks at him. He’s tall and handsome, that’s a fact, but she never noticed before how the symbol tattooed on his back peeks out on his neck under his collar. Or how his hair curls into smooth waves at the back of his head, and how broad his shoulders are.

He’s speaking to her about bubbles or oils, she’s not really listening as she starts to undress in front of him. In her dissociative mind, she wants to experiment with something. The small seed of feelings for him keep nudging at her, if she waters it will it bloom into something greater? When she steps closer that’s when Gavin notices her half nakedness.

“Does the salt stick to—” his eyes take her in slowly, watching her movements carefully as she shimmies out of her pants and then her panties. He swallows audibly, the bottle of bath salts slips from his fingers and falls into the tub with a shallow bump. “What— “he clears his throat when she steps closer, “what are you doing?”

“Can we try something?” she asks reaching for his arms. She grips his forearms, feels the taut muscles underneath his skin.

She knows he can definitely hear how loud her heart is beating. He nods as she lifts to her toes, her hands moving to his neck. Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, she moves closer to him. So close that she can feel his breath on her lips, he smells like a spicy musk, which is very inviting and then her lips are on his. Gavin remains still, letting her go at her own pace.

His lips are soft but are definitely different from the pair she’s used to. His cologne keeps her in check that this is Gavin and not—

“We don’t have to do this,” Gavin pulls back, and she feels a little empty from it. “I know this is so much for you.”

“Can we try?” she whispers, her eyes begging him to say yes.

“Are you sure?” he asks cupping her cheek. His thumb traces her bottom lip, his warm brown eyes meeting hers.

“I’m sure,” she nods.

Gavin crushes his lips to hers and his other hand grips her bare waist, pulling her to him in a tastefully forceful way. He sits on the edge of the tub and she presses herself to him, her hands yanking up his shirt. His hair gets messed up and then she admires the tattoos on his torso, her fingers tracing the designs and lines.

“I didn’t know you had any of these.”

“They’re all a part of my life story.”

“You’ll have to tell me about them sometime,” her gaze is steady on his as she unbuttons his pants. He shuts off the water of the tub standing up.

“I’d be glad to,” he smiles then lifts her into his arms carrying her to her bedroom.

Gavin takes his time kissing her from her lips all the way down to the very epicenter of her. Cressida closes her eyes so she can enjoy the feeling she’s experiencing and not to compare his touch with another’s. Gavin is gentle, touching her like she’s going to disappear into thin air.

She’s exploring him just as much as he is, she likes tracing the large tattoo on his back that goes up both shoulder blades. When they finally connect, she gasps, both in pleasure and at the vast difference. He’s making her feel good, her body is humming and tries to move with his. This is new for the both of them, this is their first time together after all.

At one point, she’s transported to another bed with another man and her nails creating large red arches into his back, they almost look like angel wings. She’s flashing back and forth from memory to present. When her release nears, all she sees is white space behind her eyelids. Then it’s over and they hold each other, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“Is that what you wanted to try?” Gavin lifts his head from her neck, and she nods. “Dare I ask what the…conjecture is?”

“It was…” she searches his eyes trying to find the right words that hold truth in them, “it was really good.”

Gavin smiles slowly and nods. “I’m glad to hear that, I thought so, too. Do you still want your bath?”

“I can go do it,” she nods brushing away a curl from his forehead then presses her palm to his cheek. “How about you go pick us up some ice cream? We can watch a movie before bed.”

“Mint chip, right?” he grins leaning down to give her a kiss.

“Right,” she laughs kissing him again.

Gavin slides off the bed and hops back into his pants.

“I’ll grab your favorite wine, too. Maybe I’ll join you in the bath,” he winks pulling on his shirt then exits the room.

Cressida feels herself moving again, going through the motions of turning on the water and adding the salts and bubbles. She closes the door and dims the lights, making sure her rotary phone is next to the bath. When she climbs in, the hot water burns the soles of her feet and her hands, but it feels good.

She feels different.

It’s been a very long and very emotional day and Ashton invades her mind yet again. Moving on their own discord, her fingers reach for the phone and dials the number she’s had memorized for almost six years. It rings and rings and rings until the automated voicemail lady comes on. Cressida pushes the disconnect tab in the center and dials again. There’s a click.

“Cressida?”

Her breath hitches at the sound of his voice, then she slams the phone back in its cradle. She sinks below the water level, her head submerging into the vapid silence of the water. How did hearing Ashton’s voice hurt worse than the silence of him not picking up? There’s a purpose for all of this pain, but what is it? She’s falling, but she doesn’t know if she’s falling in or out of love.

Ten Months After Breakup—Ashton

Ashton has been a loaded gun ever since he and Cressida ended. He’s quick to anger and frustration, snapping at people over the simplest of questions. A lot has changed since that last weekend with Cressida and yet it feels like everything is the same.

He’s flipping through his calendar on his desk for upcoming appointments he’s jotted down and pauses on the first weekend of May which is two months away.

In the past, he would already be preparing the secret weekend getaway with Cressida. He’d be confirming with The Golden Lion that his room and floor were reserved for him. He’d make sure the room is stocked with their favorite food and drink and that Cressida’s robe was firmly pressed. Now, that weekend is wide open, staring him in the face with its blankness.

For the first time in six years, the white squares are empty. The Golden Lion isn’t scrawled in his gold fountainhead pen, as if it’s been erased completely but the memories are still burned into his mind. She’s left her mark in him so deep.

Ashton had a very slow incline from the very deep valley of his heartache. His phone beeps and he presses the button with the flashing red light.

“Yes?” he asks through the intercom.

“Mr. Hemmings is here to see you, Mr. Irwin,” his assistant Phil announces.

“Send him in.”

“A package was delivered for you as well; shall I send it with Mr. Hemmings?”

“That’s fine, Phil. Thanks,” Ashton sighs. He leans back in his chair, his calendar still opened to his schedule in May.

Luke was the one who helped Ashton out of his deep ravine.

**

He watches Cressida walk down the hall and disappear into the elevator. She didn’t turn around once. He shuffles back inside and makes his way to the large windows overlooking the street down below. Cressida is easy to spot, she’s using his red umbrella then disappears into the backseat of her car and drives off. Leaving him behind.

The dark cloud has been hovering over them this whole weekend and he used everything in his power to keep it at bay, out of sight, out of mind. But now Cressida is out of his sight and he’s about to lose his mind, so he pours himself a double of his whisky. Before he knew it, the bottle was empty, and he called room service to send up some more.

He thought of the consumption as a form of poetic justice, or something along those lines. He wasn’t sure, Cressida would know. She always knows things like that.

Ashton stayed in the hotel room for a whole week until there was a loud pounding on his door. When he opens it, he sees Luke in his crisp Armani suit, his golden hair slicked back in a suave style. The smell of his aftershave was fresh. Luke wrinkles his nose in disgust.

“You look like shit, man.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Ashton mumbles using the door handle as a brace to stay standing.

“It smells like your distillery in here and it reeks off you. Have you been here this whole time?”

“Yeah, so what?

Luke glances behind him then asks carefully, “have you been drunk this whole time?”

“Nope. For the first couple of days, I was because I finished my whisky, but now I’m sober and angry.” He turns inside the room and pulls out a bottle of water, Luke follows him carefully by making sure not to step on dirty clothes. “Do you need anything?”

“Yeah, you. You need to get back to work. I’ve been calling and calling but your phone doesn’t even ring. Did you lose it?”

“It’s been in that drawer since about a week and a half ago,” Ashton nods to the dresser. His phone is right where he left it when he arrived for his weekend with Cressida.

“Fantastic. Pack it up and let’s get you clean shaven.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Luke shoves his hands in his pockets, a golden brow arched upward. “Why not?”

“Because Luke,” Ashton sighs and stares at him with disdain and a far off look in his eyes. “The love of my life is no longer in my life and I’m trying to grab a handle on that.”

“I didn’t know you and Lucinda broke up.”

“Luc--? No! Not Lucinda. Cressida. She’s gone but if I stay in this room… it’s like she’s still here, like she’ll come back.”

“Hold on,” Luke holds up a hand. “Cressida James? How are you in love with her? Aren’t your families cursed or something?”

“No, we aren’t cursed,” Ashton scoffs, “we’re sworn enemies.”

“Ah, because that’s really a big difference,” Luke mutters.

“We’ve been seeing each other in secret for five years, coming to this room every first weekend in May.”

Luke’s eyes widen. “Five years? Okay, I need to be filled in on this but before I am, you need to shower and then we’ll get lunch.”

Ashton explained everything about his and Cressida’s relationship all the way from the beginning. Their first meeting on graduation eve, their months spent in Europe, the highs and lows, their secret discussions of work that made sales skyrocket, secret glances, everything.

“So, let me see if I got this right,” Luke wipes the corners of his mouth with his napkin then sets it on the table. He uses his hands as he speaks. “You and Lucinda aren’t really dating, Cressida and Gavin aren’t really dating, but you and Cressida have kind-of-sort-of been ‘dating’ for the last five years.”

“Correct.”

“But now, because somehow an arranged marriage is still a thing, she’s marrying Gavin and you two had to split up.”

“Yes.”

Luke stares at Ashton like he has three heads and Ashton stares right back, his face passive. He takes a drink of his water then raises his eyebrows.

“You look like you have more to say.”

“Ash, this is insane. You and Cressida are clearly meant to be together, for as long as I’ve known you, you have never been in a serious relationship. Hell, I’ve never seen you go out with someone until Lucinda came around.”

“It’s always been Cressida.”

“It can still always be Cressida! Ash,” Luke laughs dryly, “you need to stop this wedding. Confess your love and runaway with her!”

“Luke, this isn’t some romance movie, this is real life.”

“Real life where arranged marriages still exist?” Luke challenges. “This situation is fucked but you can get her back.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because she’d be disowned and lose the company. I won’t be responsible for that.”

“There’s no way she’d be free of the company. She’s the best CEO James Brandy has had in years, inflation and sales have been astronomical since she took over. Her family and your family are holding an old grudge that could have easily been a big miscommunication.”

Ashton sighs, he really appreciates his friend’s attempt at trying to solve his woes. Woes he’s brought upon himself, but he and Cressida will never be together, that’s just how it goes.

**

Ashton went back to work after speaking with Luke. He found it helped him not think about Cressida so much while he was in his office or walking among the floors of his distillery. He made sure Phil had him booked from dusk to dawn and when his mind started to wander to Cressida, he’d find another task to occupy himself.

Each day it got better; each week it became slightly easier. Although Ashton shut himself away, he had Gavin under a very confidential and watchful eye. When Ashton heard he still was involved in the drug cartel with a ton of debt, he decided to step in.

He went to Brazil where the drug lord resides; Ashton was welcomed warmly because they know how wealthy he is. Ashton discovered Gavin has been trying to get out of it, but he owes $1.2 billion dollars. He thought back to Cressida’s cheek and his mind is set.

“I’ll pay his debt in full. Expect the money to be wired tomorrow no later than four,” Ashton says then makes his way towards the door. No one questions him on the money because Ashton is known to being true to his word.

“What is he to you that you are willing to pay off his debt?”

“He owes me something as well, something way more valuable than money.”

“Hmm,” Homer strokes his mustache thoughtfully, “I see. We’ll need to kick him out like we would with the rest of them, debt paid and all. It will be painful.”

“I did my part, who am I to tell you how to do yours?” Ashton shrugs and then he’s gone.

**

While Ashton waits for Luke to come into his office, he peruses through his news app and sees Lucinda and her new boyfriend as they’re walking along the beach with their new puppy. When Ashton returned from Brazil on his little errand, that’s when he learned of his breakup. Lucinda was there at his house waiting for him. She said she couldn’t keep doing this and if it ruins her career then so be it, she didn’t want to lose Stephen.

Ashton was more than understanding and told her he wishes her the best, and he meant it. After she kissed his cheek on her way out, Ashton wondered if his and Cressida’s decision made them weak or strong. He didn’t want to dwell on it for too long and let a second woman walk out of his life.

Luke waltzes in Ashton’s office in a grandeur fashion and waves a rectangular box in the air.

“Delivery for Mr. Ashton Irwin, I accept tips in the form of largely written checks,” he grins tossing the box on Ashton’s desk.

“Watch it, what if that was fragile and you just broke it?” Ashton shakes his head as Luke drops himself on the blue suede chair.

“I didn’t hear anything break. Let’s go on a trip, Canada sounds nice and welcoming, doesn’t it?”

“Why do you want to go on a trip?” Ashton puts the box in his desk drawer and gathers his wallet and two phones.

“Trips are fun, trips have class and culture. Aren’t you going to open that?”

“I will on Monday. I’ve been getting smaller bottle designs from a vendor that won’t take no for an answer. Who would want a small bottle of my whisky?”

They continue their chatter to the elevator in front of Phil’s desk.

“Mr. Irwin, did you receive the package?”

“I did. We’ll have to send something back. Can you do that for me, Phil?”

“Yeah!” Phil’s eyes widen as if in excitement, Luke and Ashton exchange a look. “I can absolutely send something. What would you like me to say?”

“Um, you can come up with the message. I’m sure you’d make it sound better than mine. Have a good weekend.”

Phil scrambles to his phone and quickly dials some number. Ashton thought he heard him faintly say a name that sounded like Chloe. Chloe is Cressida’s assistant. He shakes his head, he definitely heard him wrong and tunes back into Luke who’s talking about Canadian syrup. Ashton feels a picking at his brain, he can’t quite put his finger on what it is. It felt like he was forgetting something.

One Month Until Wedding

Cressida and Gavin are driving back from his property on the lake. They spent a long weekend laying in the sun, cruising on the water in the early dawn on his boat, and cooking meals together. On the mornings where they didn’t wake up early to go on the boat, the time was spent getting to know each other.

Cressida always feels like she’s in an odd déjà vu every moment she shares with him because it reminds her of some other time. She’s constantly having to only see Gavin in front of her and not a ghost of her past. They’ve continued to get closer and closer; a close friendship has formed completely.

Gavin knew this was the first weekend she wouldn’t be seeing Ashton, so he wanted to help get her mind off of it. She notices that whenever they’re holding hands, his thumb will be circling around the ring on her finger. She catches him staring at her from time to time and while it gives her butterflies, it’s also warning signs. Warning signs that Ashton is slipping away, and she doesn’t want that to happen.

“Can we get serious for a hot second?” he asks when he parks in her driveway.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she gathers up her purse, phone, water bottle, and sunglasses.

“I’m all in on this with you, Cress.”

Cressida stops her movements; she feels her cheeks warm up then looks at him nervously. He’s getting really good at reading her.

“I’ve…I’ve grown attached to you and those feelings are growing. I know you aren’t there yet, or maybe you never will be, or someday maybe? I don’t know. But I’m in this for you,” he stares her down, his eyes full of nothing but honesty. “And any way you’ll have me, I’ll take it. okay?”

“Okay,” she nods then touches his cheek, rubs at his skin. He places his hand over hers, his thumb rubbing over her engagement ring and he kisses the inside of her palm. “I’m sorry I have all of this…weight on me and it’s dragging you down.”

“You could never drag me down, you lifted me up in the first place,” he smiles.

Her heart tugs at his words. She hates herself for not knowing if it’s from flattery or an ache for another. She hates herself even more for being caught in the middle of her own feelings.

“Okay, serious talk over until some other time. Let’s set the bags in and freshen up before meeting your parents for Sunday dinner.” He gives her fingers one more kiss then exits the car.

“There you are! How was it, how did it go? Did you get the brace—OH!”

“Chloe?” Cressida’s in shock upon seeing her in her house. Not that it’s abnormal for her to be here but she didn’t have anything planned for her until Monday.

“Hi! What uh, what are you guys doing here?”

“We went to Gavin’s lake house for the weekend. I thought I ran that by you…” Cressida shakes her head. “What are you doing here?”

“Umm…I uh, there was a package for you but it…it’s the wrong thing. My mistake. I will return it,” she responds awkwardly and tries to scurry out the door.

“Oh, was it my shampoo? Let me take a look, I can see if I want to try it anyway,” Cressida drops her bags on the counter.

“You know what, I actually left it at the office. I’ll return it for you first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll see you Monday, bye!”

Gavin watches her leave the house in confusion; he turns to Cressida slowly.

“That was strange, wasn’t it?” Gavin points in her direction.

“Yeah… she was acting weird all week,” Cressida frowns. “I wonder if she’s going through a tough time or something…I’ll have to ask her tomorrow.”

“I’ll check on the plants and water them, then we can shower and head out?” he asks kissing her forehead.

“What do you mean by shower?” she cracks a smile, and he laughs.

“I didn’t mean it that way, I swear. But I’m open to it, always am,” he winks then heads out to her patio where her plants are.

Cressida chuckles watching him get the hose. Chloe had been acting giddy everyday last week, asking her indirect questions about her weekend plans, asking if she’s nervous. She made it seem like she knew where Cressida was going, so why was she surprised to see her home now?

The Big Day

Ashton already predicted this day would be horrible, but he didn’t imagine it happening right when he woke up. His coffee machine broke so he couldn’t have his first cup before stopping at his favorite coffee shop. Turns out that was also closed for renovations, so he messaged Phil to please pick up a new coffee machine and bring two coffees with him.

When Ashton arrived at his office building the computer systems were down which was just fantastic considering he’d be doing a video conference call with Japan at ten. He already wanted today to be over before he stepped in the elevator that seemed to take longer than normal to fly up to his office.

He had a migraine, and it was barely nine o’clock in the morning. Normally he’d be calling the hotel confirming everything. He hated today.

Phil comes rushing in with three coffees in a carrying tray and a box containing Ashton’s new coffeemaker.

“You’re a lifesaver, Phil, truly,” Ashton commends taking a drink of the first coffee. He already feels his headache subsiding. “Can we go over my meetings for today?”

“Yes, let me just…pull it up on my tablet here. Okay, so…”

Ashton listens to Phil rattle off times and names of who he will be dealing with today. While Phil talks, Ashton fixes his desk then opens his drawer and sees that rectangular box. The company hasn’t sent anything back so maybe they finally got the message, but now he wants to see what this bottle looks like.

He cuts it open, humming along to Phil, then sees another box. It’s maroon with a gold band running along the sides. It’s thin and that intrigues him, so he lifts the lid. Nestled inside is not a whisky bottle but the bracelet he bought Cressida three Valentine’s Days ago. Beneath it was a folded note that read, ‘meet me at our special place Friday. It’s important. I don’t think I can go through with it.”

“Phil, what the hell is this?” Ashton holds up the bracelet that is now looped around his fingers. Phil’s mouth is open like a fish out of water. “Phil?”

“I—you—didn’t you open that a few months ago?”

“No, I thought this was the whisky bottle from that company who keeps trying to partner with me. I told you to send them a message I wasn’t interested, but this is clearly not a whisky bottle. So…why is this in my possession?”

“You didn’t open it until now? I thought you did! That’s why I sent—oh no,” he groans and slumps into the chair in front of Ashton’s desk.

“Phil, what the hell is going on?” Ashton drops Cressida’s bracelet onto his desk, it clanks on the glass top.

“Chloe sent this from Miss James because she said Miss James was having reservations about the wedding. That she still loves you and…and you were supposed to meet at The Golden Lion, and you told me to send something back, so I sent your gold ring with a note saying you’ll be there. And oh my God, I thought you went last month but it didn’t end well so you were still angry this whole time,” Phil explains.

“But Cressida herself didn’t send this?”

“No, it was Chloe because she knows Miss James keeps the bracelet on all the time,” Phil pinches the bridge of his nose. “It was supposed to bring you back together and by me sending your gold ring…it was a sign you wanted her back, too.”

Ashton stares at Phil in complete surprise. He could have met up with Cressida a month ago and made up and they would probably be together right now.

“Did she go? Was she there? What did Chloe say?”

“I don’t—she didn’t go. Chloe said she went to some lake house with Gavin and now…she probably didn’t even get your ring…”

“What ring are you talking about?”

“Your gold one, with the ruby inside.”

Ashton’s mind is racing. His heart is about to combust. He’s connecting the dots and finding new ones that didn’t add up but make complete sense now. Why Phil seemed so excited that Ashton wanted to send a reply back. How he thought he misplaced his ring at the hotel but never got around to calling about it when really, it was delivered to Cressida but if she didn’t go to the hotel either…

“She never got the ring,” Ashton concludes and Phil wipes at the sweat on his brow.

“What?”

“You’re one hundred percent certain that Cressida received my ring?”

“I wouldn’t say one hundred—”

“Call Chloe now and find out.”

Phil scrambles for his phone, dropping it on the floor twice before pressing it to his ear. Ashton touches the bracelet before him, images of Cressida flashes in his eyes.

“Okay, thank you Chlo, yes I’ll tell him…yes…yes…well, it’s too late now. All right…yep…okay bye,” Phil ends the call then smiles at Ashton in relief. “She never got it. There’s still time to stop this wedding, sir.”

“If she went on a weekend trip with Gavin then she has to be over—”

“No! no, she’s not over you and you’re not over her!” Phil suddenly shouts jumping from his chair. “I’m sorry sir, if this gets me fired then so be it, but Chloe and I hated seeing you two act like you did. Your company will survive if you both were disowned but I highly doubt that would happen. We’ve seen you two together for six years. We couldn’t let you throw this away for some stupid arranged marriage.”

“Phil—”

“You have to stop this wedding. Two people who should be together and aren’t…that’s the worst kind of love story ever. I know your families are arch nemesis but that was how many years ago? And it’s not even your fight to begin with. Chloe and I think you should be together and it’s our faults that our plan failed but you can stop it today. Right now. I can—”

“Phil!” Ashton shouts causing Phil to shut up. “You aren’t fired. And this was very kind of you and Chloe to do but if Cressida didn’t personally—”

“She’s been on the fence about this wedding for the whole year! You have to go to her, sir, you just have to.”

Ashton sighs and plays with the bracelet. He thinks of the past year, how it wasn’t the best by any means because Cressida wasn’t in his life. She’s always said from the beginning that she didn’t care if she was disowned, that she’s only wanted him, and Ashton’s only wanted her. She’s the love of his entire life. Luke has told him to crash the wedding and he might just do that.

“Where is the wedding?”

**

Cressida is pacing in the bridal suite of the church. Her hair and makeup are finished, her dress is fastened to the very last button, and her heart has been in her stomach since she woke up this morning. Her hands feel clammy and she’s trying to focus on her breathing by taking deep shallow breaths. Her bridesmaids are drinking mimosas and enjoying themselves while the guests arrive in the large church.

The bridesmaids are discussing the honeymoon and placing friendly bets on if she’ll be pregnant upon the return. Cressida mentions she needs some air and moves into the hallway to continue her pacing. The door opens and expecting her mother, she starts defending herself.

“I’m fine, mother, I just need a minute to collect myself.”

“It’s me,” Chloe says, frowning at her boss and close friend. Cressida relaxes and steps in front of her, smoothing the skirt of her dress, her hands are shaking. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, it’s just jitters. But I…I keep thinking of Ashton,” she whispers his name. It’s been so long since she spoke it out loud.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out at The Golden Lion, but you seemed so happy when you came home with Gavin I thought you were actually happy with him now.”

“What do you mean you’re sorry it didn’t work out at The Golden Lion?”

“I…what?” Chloe shakes her head in confusion. “You were supposed to meet Ashton at the hotel last month, he sent his gold ring and a note to go along with the one I sent him…with your bracelet.”

“My bracelet? Chloe, I didn’t get a ring. What is going on?”

“I placed the box on your desk and when you left for the weekend you seemed so happy, so I thought you were going to The Golden Lion to make up or runaway with him. I came by that Sunday to see how it went but you were with Gavin, so I thought you’d made your decision.”

“But I didn’t send him anything,” Cressida shakes her head slowly.

“That’s because I did,” Chloe fixes her fingers together in nerves. “I came up with the idea and Phil agreed to do it as well, we hated seeing you both so upset. We tried to fix it.”

“If I would have gotten his ring I wouldn’t have left with Gavin,” Cressida’s shoulders fall in sadness.

She starts pacing again, thinking of the good thing Chloe and Phil tried to do but fate seemed to have other plans. Did Ashton show up at the hotel? Was his heart broken even more when she didn’t show up even though she never got his ring and note?

“It’s almost time,” the wedding coordinator announces bustling down the hallway. She opens the door to the suite and orders the girls to get out and into line. “Follow me Miss James and I will make you a Missus.”

Cressida gulps but follows her. Chloe reaches out and grabs her hand, gives her a gentle squeeze. Cressida relaxes a little knowing that Chloe is with her through this as well. Gavin is a great guy; he’s been a good and patient friend with her through the wedding planning. She’ll grow to love him as time goes on, right?

Suddenly she’s in front of the doors and it’s almost her turn to walk down the aisle. How did the other girls go so fast? How does she not remember seeing them?

“You can do this,” Chloe assures her, but Cressida is very doubtful.

The music changes and she stops Chloe from walking down. Chloe looks at her in alarm.

“I need to speak with Gavin, please. Can you bring him to me?”

Chloe nods. “Yes, yes of course. I’ll be right back.”

Chloe opens the doors then slips inside running along the sides of the pews. The guests watch her run her way up to the alter where Gavin is waiting in a crisp suit, his hair perfectly styled, and a large marigold fastened to his lapel. When he sees Chloe running, he knows what that means.

“Is she all right?” Gavin asks when Chloe reaches him.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure. She wants to speak with you, I’m sorry but that’s all I know.”

“It’s okay, I’ll speak with her,” he nods then turns to the pastor. “It’ll be just a few more moments. The bride wishes to speak with me, I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll be right back.”

The pastor stares after him in bewilderment as Gavin follows Chloe back down the aisle. He smiles and nods at the guests trying to look reassuring. He knows what this looks like, but his mind is focused on Cressida. When he spots her, she’s grasping onto a table, her knuckles white.

“Cress?” he touches her shoulder carefully so as not to scare her. She flinches anyway then turns to Gavin, her face pale and eyes glossy. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t do this, Gavin, I’m so sorry,” Cressida sniffles. She takes Gavin’s hands, and he feels the ring fall into his palm. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, and you’re a wonderful man but I don’t love you and I don’t think I ever would love you how you properly should be. You deserve more than a woman who’s hung up on another man. You deserve to be loved the right way. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shh, shh,” he swipes the tears from her face and forces a smile. “I know. It’s all right.”

“It is?”

“I have grown feelings for you, and I know you’ve been trying to find some for me and to be honest, I hate seeing you try so hard. You’re meant to be with Ashton, not me. Go to him.”

“I should tell everyone inside—”

“I’ll worry about them,” he shakes his head, “and I’ll tell our parents. I’ll take care of everything.”

“I’m a horrible person,” she cries, “this is all because of me.”

“Loving someone doesn’t make you horrible. I’ll be fine Cressida, I’d rather have you as a friend than nothing at all.”

“Thank you,” she whispers then flings herself into his arms. He hugs her tightly, breathing in her hair and holds her as tight as he can. She pulls away to look up at him. “I will be a little bit jealous who you end up with. She’ll need my approval.”

“That’s nice to know,” he laughs then kisses her forehead. “Go find Irwin.”

Cressida takes a deep breath, stretches on her toes to kiss his cheek then lifts up her skirt and runs to the main entrance of the church where Chloe is already waiting with her bag and phone.

“How did you--?”

“I had a feeling,” Chloe shrugs. “The car is coming around.”

“Thank you, you’re the best assistant and friend I could have ever asked for.”

Cressida bustles her dress as best she can in the back of her car, her driver is a little bewildered but then slams on the gas to get to The Golden Lion. Her heart is thundering in her chest, her left hand feels weightless without the ring, and she hopes Ashton is there. Should she call him? Just then her phone buzzes and it’s a text from Chloe.

‘He was on his way to the church, but I contacted Phil and diverted his course. You should get there around the same time. Good luck :)’

Cressida lets out a shaky breath and suddenly she’s very nervous again. The hotel is twenty minutes away from the church. What will she say? What will he say? Will he take her back? She’s trying to stay hopeful but what if he sees her and decides it’s better they’re not together?

It’s a very long drive where she has time to recollect their time together. Meeting that night before graduation, the endless mornings and evenings in Europe, secret glances and very well constructed touches at parties they both needed to attend, Bora Bora, each weekend at The Golden Lion. She’s loved him completely forever and she can only hope he’ll want her the same way.

She’s approaching the hotel, the building shines in the golden afternoon, the mane of the lion sparkling. She struggles getting out of the car with her dress and makes her way up the steps and sees the back of Ashton. He’s peering into one of the rooms where they’ve shared many parties together. His hair is longer in the back and he looks broader in the shoulders.

Cressida can’t speak so she walks towards him. Just as she’s about to open her mouth, he turns around and she forgets to breathe. His scruff has turned into a full-grown beard and it’s very well kept, it makes him look even more handsome. Standing in front of him she feels more at peace than she has in months. She feels whole and complete.

“Hi,” he breathes, his hazel eyes scanning over her in her dress. “You’re…you’re an absolute vision, angel.”

“Did you really send me your ring? Because I never got it, but I swear, I would have been here last month. I’ve never stopped loving you and I never will. I called it off. The whole thing. And if I get kicked out of the business then I’ll start my own and we can build our own partnership. It’s always been you—”

Not being able to stand it anymore, Ashton gathers her in is arms and kisses her deeply. His arms wrap around the home he’s been missing for 365 days. His lips are kissing the lips he’ll never get tired of kissing. Cressida’s fingers twist into his hair kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. It’s like she can finally breathe. Their love is bursting at the seams.

“I’ll never stop loving you either, Cressida,” he mumbles rubbing his nose against hers lovingly. He stares into her eyes. “I don’t care about the ring or the bracelet or our bad timing, what matters is that we’re both here now. And I’m never letting you walk out the doors unless I’m right next to you.”

“I love you,” she smiles and strokes his beard, it’s soft under her fingers. “I’ve wanted to call so many times. You look different, I love this beard.”

“Yeah? I was thinking of shaving it,” he grins.

“Don’t,” she shakes her head, “not yet.”

“Although I’m glad to see you, what about your wedding?”

“Gavin’s taking care of it, he’s a really good man, Ashton. And he’s going to tell our parents the wedding is off, but I want to tell them about you and me. I don’t want to love you behind closed doors anymore.”

“And I’ll be right by your side. Luke made a very good point about our ‘disownment’ and we won’t be losing our companies.”

“It’s settled then,” she sighs but pulls away from him. Ashton looks forlorn from the sudden distance. “There’s only one thing left to do.”

“What’s that?” he asks trailing his fingers down her arm so he can latch onto her own. He’s not letting her go.

Her eyes dance, the gold in them sparkling. “Help me out of my dress?”

They kiss freely in the elevator as they ascend to their floor, to their room. But it feels different because of their decision to finally come clean about their relationship. Ashton’s hands are frantic as he pulls her from her dress, her lips never leave his skin as they fall onto their bed.

Murmured words of love are pressed to skin, their fingers grasp and lock together as they reconnect. This feels different too, it’s not a secret anymore and they never will be again. Whatever happens after they leave this room, they’ll handle it together.

In a rush they come together but they’re nowhere near done. Ashton kisses all over her chest, her neck, her throat, and her hands roam over the dips and valleys of his body. She finds the maps only she knows; touches the freckles she’s discovered time and time again.

“My love for you is pure gold,” he sighs before slipping his tongue in her mouth. “Beautiful, rare…”

“And precious,” she smiles rolling him over onto his back. “It’s me and you, baby.”

They fall and crash together, the golden sun setting on their love. It’s a promise for a golden morning, a new beginning and the start of their life being shared into the light. No more secrets, just Ashton and Cressida loving each other beautifully, gently, passionately. A golden love for the ages.

Taglist: @calpalirwin​​ @myloverboyash​​ @loveroflrh​​ @cxddlyash​​ @princesslrh​​ @spicylftv​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @calumance​​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​​ @sarcastically-defensive17​​ @another-lonely-heart​​ @devilatmydoor​​ @thatscooibaby​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​ @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​​ @i-like-5sos​​ @creampiecashton​​ @calpops​​ @littledrummeraussie​​ @sexgodashton​​ @f-mu​​ @mystic-232

[myforeverforlife]

weight of the crown.

For @crossandchange​! "Hidden Truths" Kyungsoo and 51. "I'm your husband, it's my job." 

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem reader

Word Count: 3,803

Masterlist

Hidden Truths Masterlist: ( 1 )  ( Final ) 

You shuffled through the stack of papers in your hand, letting out a long, weary sigh. All day, your head had been throbbing with the pangs of a headache. The work wasn't foreign to you, not when you had been trained since childhood to become the leader of a nation. Ever since you came of age, you had been determined to help your father and take on your share of running Eunali. Content with your abilities and work over the past few years, your father finally announced that he would be stepping down from the throne — with you as his successor. It was an enormous honor and responsibility, all at the same time.

But you weren't alone.

Your wedding band twinkled up at you, so bright for such a delicate piece of jewelry. The gold band had a silver stripe running across the middle, the colors representing the union of two royal families. The kingdoms of Elyxia and Eunali shared decades of close friendship, a bond only strengthened with the marriage of the crown prince and princess. 

Kyungsoo even gave up his own claim to his throne, much to everyone's surprise — including your own. Elyxia and Eunali were a day's travel apart, but it would be too hectic and confusing for the pair of you to rule over both kingdoms at once. You could already imagine the headache of relaying messages back and forth day after day. Seeing as Kyungsoo's father was healthy and still fit to rule for years to come, your husband made the decision to support you in your ascension to the throne. 

A knock came at the door, two firm taps. You already knew who it was, a smile coming to your face. "Come in!" 

The large wooden door swung open, your husband peering in curiously. "It's getting late," he said. Kyungsoo was still dressed in his clothing from the day, dark trousers coupled with a white button-up and a navy vest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing tan, sun-kissed skin. He walked over to where you were sitting at your desk, dropping a kiss to your forehead. 

"You're going to miss supper if you hide in your office like this." Kyungsoo wrapped an arm around your shoulders, peeking at the papers in your hand. 

"Is it really supper already?" You looked over to the windows, surprised to see that the sky was considerably darker than it had been before. "I didn't realize," you said with a sheepish smile, turning to your husband. "How was your day out in the countryside?" 

"Beautiful," Kyungsoo said with a grin. He had spent the day with some royal officials, meeting with mayors of several villages further away from the capital. "I was glad to see that their crops weren't as badly affected by the drought as we thought. It felt wonderful to just take a walk through nature." 

"I'm jealous," you said, standing up and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I spent all day inside. But I got a lot of work done... and then I get to sit through another day of meetings tomorrow." You grimaced, Kyungsoo chuckling at your expression.

"Are you sure this all needs to be done right away?" He picked up a paper from the top of the pile, squinting as he read. "This is for a year-end evaluation of the bridges and roads. That's months away, I'm sure you'll be fine if this isn't completed by tomorrow." 

"Public transportation is very important," you countered. "What if I didn't know about an old, faulty bridge, and someone ended up falling into a river?"

Kyungsoo's eyes grew wider. "I think you might be worrying a bit too much."

"The sooner I get all of these completed, the sooner I can take a moment to relax."

"Or you could ask for more help? That's what I'm here for, along with Yixing and the rest of your advisors. You're going to work yourself sick if you try to run an entire country by yourself."

"It's my responsibility to take care of my people, our home. You do too much for me already, going out to meet others on my behalf. Yixing and the rest of my council already have enough on their hands. I don't want to give any of you even more to do." 

"I'm your husband, it's my job. I want to help you, to do what I can so that you don't come to bed exhausted every night." Kyungsoo's hands came to rest at your waist, the warmth of his hands seeping through the fabric of your clothes. 

Your heart swelled at his concern for you, his willingness to take on more than was even expected of him. But you still had a lot to prove, mostly to yourself. "You're much too sweet for my own good." Leaning forward, you placed a quick kiss on his nose. "But I can do this. I need to do this. Father has been ruling alone, ever since Mother passed. He’s done most of the work himself, and I can do the same."

"His Majesty also has his advisors," said Kyungsoo. "As do you. His Majesty let those close to him help with many of his tasks, Y/N." 

"But he still had a hand in most of them," you countered. "Every single document, every request. He read every single one of them, put in all of his effort into doing what was best for the people. No one ever said that this would be easy, but I am determined to do all that I can to the best of my ability." You moved closer, resting your head against Kyungsoo's shoulder as you leaned against him. "I appreciate all of your help, Soo. But I want to do as much as I can on my own. If I need help, you will be the first person that I turn to." 

You felt Kyungsoo's chest rise and fall as he let out a weary sigh. "I suppose I can't argue with the queen."

"I'm not queen yet. Not for a few months, anyways. How do you feel, prince consort?" You raised an eyebrow playfully. 

A wistful smile appeared on your husband's face. "I can't wait to see Father and Mother again." It had been a while since either of you had seen the king and former queen of Elyxia — since your wedding, to be exact. Kyungsoo's parents had been drifting apart in their marriage, a secret divulged to you after you repaired your own relationship with Kyungsoo. After their separation had been made official, the former queen decided to spend her time using her talents and connections to help others in various lands. She was a busy woman, but she always made time for her one and only son. Despite distance and duties, Kyungsoo's parents made the efforts to keep in frequent communication. Without a doubt, you knew that both of them would be present for the coronation. 

"They must miss you dearly. I believe your father's letters have been growing longer and longer," you said, unable to hide your amusement. "It's very touching, though — I suppose absence truly makes the heart grow fonder. We'll have to go and visit him as soon as we get the chance to." 

"I'd love that." Kyungsoo pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling back right away to stare at you in concern. "You're burning up. How have you been working all day?"

You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead, suddenly aware of the intense warmth there. "I've had a headache for a bit, but I thought it was just the events of the day catching up to me."

"I'll have them send supper to our room so you can rest as soon as you finish eating," Kyungsoo said, already fussing over you. 

"Oh, my papers though," you protested, even as Kyungsoo began ushering you towards the door.

"It can wait until tomorrow," he said firmly. You could hear it in his voice — there was absolutely no room for debate on this. 

You took a last glance at your desk as Kyungsoo pulled the door closed behind both of you. A knot of worry began to form in your stomach at the thought of all the work being left behind. However, you figured there was nothing a good night's rest couldn't fix. You were determined to jump back into work the next morning, no matter what. 

In a cruel twist of events, you only felt worse the next day. 

Your entire body felt too heavy to move and you were still afflicted by a headache, a constant haziness clouding your mind. But still, you had things to do.

Of course, your husband wouldn't hear of it.

"The sooner you recover, the sooner you can return to work." He sat beside you in bed, dressed in his clothes for the day while you were still in your nightgown.  

"The needs of the people won't stop for me because I'm not feeling well," you fought back. "I was supposed to meet with the group organizing the construction of the new hospital."

"Yixing is more than capable of handling matters for today. They'll only be talking over details, no decisions will be made without you. I'll even be there to sit in on all of your meetings, and report everything back to you." Kyungsoo held your hand, his firm grip and solid reasoning alleviating some of your worries.

"But still," you began weakly. Unconsciously, you reached up to play with the charm of your necklace. It was a delicate, fragile piece of jewelry, but it had once belonged to your mother. The necklace never failed to help calm your nerves, the touch of cool silver familiar against your skin. 

Kyungsoo scooted closer, letting go of your hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear. "I know how much this pains you to stay in bed all day. I can bring some of your things over for you to work on, but," he grew serious. "You still need to use this time for rest. The physician will be back in the afternoon, I'll be back by then." 

"Has anyone told Father? He just got settled at the summer palace, I don't to worry him into making the journey back just to check on me."

"No one has told His Majesty yet. I thought you would object if we tried to send him a message." 

You smiled in relief, eyes closing. The royal physician came by not even ten minutes ago, but you were already feeling the effects of the medicine she had given you. "Thank you, Soo. It's just a slight fever, after all. I'll be fine in a day or two." 

Kyungsoo watched as you began to drift off to sleep, running his hands through your hair comfortingly. The corners of his lips lifted up when you began to snore lightly, mouth falling open as you breathed. It was the most peaceful he'd seen you in a while, possibly for the first time in months. He wasn't surprised that all of the late nights and busy days were finally catching up to you, but he wished he could do more to help. Although Kyungsoo was only prince consort, he knew enough about the duties and responsibilities expected of a ruler. He had once been a crown prince, after all.

Your husband was determined to take care of things while you recovered, to look after your subjects with just as much care and concern. 

While you slept undisturbed in the quiet comfort of your bedchamber, Kyungsoo spent the day downstairs convening with your advisors. Meticulous notes were taken on every matter with the intention for you to look over them once you were better. Every report was summarized, every new proposal drafted up with a list of potential pros and cons — as well as additional background information. Work was almost as it usually was, large tasks made simpler thanks to the room full of officials. At this point, the only things left were a few more meetings to be held outside the castle. 

"I didn't think we would be able to get so much completed," Yixing said in an aside to Kyungsoo. "Well, almost completed. The workload would be much less taxing on Her Highness if we had a system like this every day." 

"I had the same thought." A series of scribbles appeared in the margins of Kyungsoo's paper as he ruminated. "I'll ask her about it tonight. I know she's always been adamant on doing things herself, but she'll end up collapsing from exhaustion at this rate." 

Yixing nodded, resting his chin on top of his hands. "I suppose she believes it is a weakness to ask others for assistance, especially in a position like hers. But not even a regent can rule a kingdom entirely by themselves." 

"Exactly," Kyungsoo mumbled. "While I hope Y/N won't work herself sick in the future, I have no doubt that this will happen again." As Kyungsoo remembered how you looked completely worn out, he suddenly thought of the times he had been ill and stuck in bed. There was one thing that always managed to make him feel better...

"Your Highness." An advisor came over from the other end of the room, a document in his hand. "There was a note made last week by Her Royal Highness to check on a series of business that were destroyed in a fire. Shall I send whoever is available?"

"No need." Kyungsoo stood up, pushing his seat back. "I shall go myself, I was about to head into town anyway. May I?" He gestured to the document, reading over it as the advisor handed it over. Perfect, Kyungsoo could finish up one of the last tasks for the day, all while preparing a special treat for you.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Yixing asked, about to get up from his chair.

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. But if my wife wakes up while I'm gone, please keep her company for me." Kyungsoo patted Yixing on the shoulder as he passed, heading off in search of his riding coat and hat. 

All of the best goods from the market might be sold out by this point, but Kyungsoo was sure that he could still find ingredients hearty enough to boost your spirits.

You sat in bed, back propped up with a couple of pillows as Yixing relayed the events of the day to you. To your surprise, Kyungsoo and the rest of your council had done most of the tedious, busy work for you. While you read through all of the notes that had been written up, you were hit by an immense wave of relief. "You've practically done most of the work," you gasped. 

"All that's left is for your final review and decisions," Yixing added. "Your husband fared much better than I thought he would. He certainly has the makings of a wise and efficient leader."

Filled with pride, you couldn't help the grin rising to your face. "I'm glad to hear that. I hope it wasn't too much for all of you." 

"It was doable because we divided up all of the tasks," Yixing said with a raise of his eyebrow.

His hint didn't go over your head, the back of your neck heating up at his words. You gave a sigh of reluctance. "I know, Xing. To be honest, seeing everything that the council did today has taken quite the load off of my shoulders. Don't let him know I said that though."

Yixing brought a hand to his heart. "My loyalties are to the queen," he said with a wink.

Kyungsoo entered to the sight of you laughing at your friend's silliness, glad to see you looking much more energetic than in the morning. A guard held the door open for him, seeing as he was busy trying not to drop the tray in his hands. "How are you feeling?" he asked you.

"Much better. Perhaps all I needed was a good, long nap." You tried to get a better look at what Kyungsoo was holding, nose picking up a mouth-watering scent. "Did you bring food from the kitchens?"

"Soup, to help you recover. Careful," Kyungsoo warned. He placed the tray over your lap, trying to avoid any lumps in the thick blanket.

Your mouth fell open, stomach already growling at the mention of food. "This looks amazing — and it smells delicious too." You held your hand out to Kyungsoo, squeezing his in thanks. 

Yixing got up from his seat with a smile, straightening his jacket. "I'll take this as my cue to leave. Enjoy your meal." With a parting bow, he soon left to give the two of you some privacy. Kyungsoo took Yixing's empty chair, settling down into it as the door clicked shut. 

"I've never seen this soup before," you mused, stirring your spoon around in the broth. Pieces of chicken and various seasonal vegetables floated around in the soup, only adding to its appeal. "Is this a new recipe?"

"It's something Mother used to have the cooks make when I sick as a child. If this doesn't lift your spirits right away, I don't know what else will."

You inhaled deeply, lifting a spoonful to your mouth. "I think it's working already." After a few breaths to cool down the piping hot broth, you finally got a taste. As soon as the flavors hit your tongue, your eyes grew larger with excitement. "Soo," you said, raising a hand to cover your mouth as you chewed. "This is heavenly, I can't believe this." 

Kyungsoo chuckled softly, tickled by your reaction. "Eat up. You need all of your strength." 

You heeded his advice, digging into the soup with fervor. "I'm going have to give the kitchen staff my compliments in person." 

Your husband looked away, avoiding your gaze as he fiddled with his fingers. "Ah, well... I made it."

The spoon in your hand almost fell into the bowl, slipping the slightest bit. "You made this? Soo, this is one of the most delicious meals I've ever had."

"Now you're overreacting," he said, shaking his head with a grin.

"It's true! I would offer you some, but I don't want to get you sick. Did you save some for yourself?"

"I told the kitchen staff that they were free to help themselves to the rest. I tasted a bit as I went along, but I don't think it's worth the praise you've given me." 

You set your spoon down with a clatter, metal bumping against porcelain. "Soo, I can assure you that you deserve all of the praise for this — and more. You are a man of many hidden talents, it seems." Upon remembering the heavy responsibility he had taken on while you were sick, your voice softened. "Thank you for all that you did today. Yixing told me that you led the council, and he showed me all of the work that was done." 

Kyungsoo scooted closer, arms coming up to rest on top of your blanket. "It was nothing, I did it so that you wouldn't have to worry."

"It means everything to me," you replied. "I know that I was being stubborn about doing things myself, but it was because I never wanted to be a bother to anyone. You and Yixing helped me to see how much more efficient it is to have all of the council working together — and much less stressful for me," you added with an embarrassed laugh. 

"Does this mean you'll let us help you?" Kyungsoo asked. 

"Yes, and I will be extremely grateful for everyone's assistance — especially yours, my hardworking husband." On instinct, you leaned forward to kiss him, barely managing to remember that you were ill. You moved back in a flash, slightly disrupting the tray on your lap. "I'll be so happy when I'm all better," you grumbled. 

Hiding a grin, Kyungsoo lifted your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. "Don't rush yourself. It's good to take things slow, to take a break for yourself once in a while."

"Ah, speaking of breaks. I was thinking that we could take a day off to go visit Father at the summer palace. We could get our fill of fresh air, and check in on him. It'll be a very small vacation."

"A much deserved vacation," Kyungsoo added. "I think it's a great idea." 

You beamed, smiling from ear to ear. "I can't wait! I haven't been this relaxed in a long time, what with plans for the coronation and all. Only a few more months, and then it will all be settled." 

"You'll be Queen Y/N then. Are you nervous?" 

"A bit. I keep seeing the coronation as the final stretch, the last big event before I get to live peacefully for the rest of our lives. But I know that's far from true." Glancing down at your joined hands, you bit down pensively on your bottom lip. "I don't like to think of the crown as a burden, but sometimes it does feel stifling. I've only gotten used to the full responsibility this year, and I'm always terrified that I'll be faced with something that I can't solve." 

Both of you sat in the silence that followed, Kyungsoo thinking over your words. "I've heard it said that the best way to learn is through experience. Our fathers were born into greatness, but they also have decades of growth and mistakes that helped to shape their reigns. They also had trusted people who stood by them, even during their darkest times." Kyungsoo's hand tightened reassuringly around your own. "I may only be prince consort, but I will do everything in my power to help you keep our kingdom safe. I will never turn my back on Eunali or you, my queen." 

You were deeply touched by his earnestness, eyes glimmering with moisture. For once, you were the one at a loss for words. 

Kyungsoo reached up with his free hand, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over the skin there. Immediately, you leaned into his touch, eyes closing. There was no need to speak, not when both of you could feel the love in every touch, every glance. 

The weight of the crown was a heaviness not many could withstand, but you were lucky to have Kyungsoo to share it with. It was your birthright, a promise bestowed upon you from infancy. Despite your many worries, you would never abandon your destiny.

And so began a new chapter in your life, the fairytale only continuing to unfold. 

A/N: it’s been so long since I wrote for this universe! it only made sense to me to skip forward a few later, as y/n and kyungsoo are getting ready for the coronation. the hardest part was figuring out how married would work if they were both heirs in their kingdoms (do they just rule over both, but travel back and forth?? I regretted making their kingdoms far apart in the original fics lol) but since y/n’s father was sick in “hidden truths”, I figured it made more sense to have them rule in eunali with soo giving up his claim to his own throne. I had to go back and reread the original fics a few times to realy get into the feel of writing from their perspectives after so long (as expected, y/n is just as stubborn as she was before 😂)

Hidden Truths Masterlist: ( 1 )  ( Final )

[thegreatestofheck]

The Girl with No Heartbeat Pt.5 ⊰JJ Maybank⊱

find the complete masterlist for this series and all my obx writing here!

(gif not mine. all credit to romaincourtoisgames!)

word count - 5.2k warnings - light swearing, that’s pretty much it synopsis - Mera makes a new friend. After her first ever shower, she opens up to the Pogues about leaving the ocean and the toll it took on her physically.  a/n - I’m sorry this update took so long! I’m still really invested in Mera’s story and the lot, but I just kinda lost the motivation for a while. I hope you’re all still interested!

                                                          ***

Mera wasn’t sure why, but she felt unsettled walking back up to Tannyhill. She forced herself into a pair of Kie’s shorts and a short sleeved, collared shirt, praying silently to herself that no one could sense her discomfort. No one except John B, who was taking the entire cousin thing to heart. It seemed that he could already sense how she felt and what she was thinking. 

So, as they made their journey up the incredibly long driveway toward the house, he tapped his elbow against her arm, drawing her out of her own consciousness. 

“You look good,” he said, not even glancing at her. “We get you some jewelry, maybe a tattoo or two, and you’ll fit right in here with everyone else.” 

The thought made Mera smile. She wanted to fit in, whatever way she possibly could. 

“You really think our plan is going to work?” She asked, tucking her hands into her back pockets. Modern pockets weren’t as deep as she was used to. Mera wondered why some clothes even had pockets if they weren’t going to be of any use. 

“I think it already has.” There was a confidence in John B’s voice that was contagious. Even if Mera didn’t believe truly that they were going to succeed, she believed the smile on John B’s face. And that was enough. 

“I trust you, cos,” she said with a smile, bumping into him with her shoulder. 

“John B, Mera!” Ward walked toward them with his arms open and a smile on his face. “Ready for your first day of work?” 

Mera managed a smile, nervously rolling onto the balls of her feet.

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

“Great.” He clapped his hands together, making Mera flinch ever so slightly. “John, you know what to do. I’ll take care of Mera.” 

“Sure. See you in a few hours?” John B looked at Mera and she hummed quietly and nodded her head. Being apart from him made her feel uncomfortable all over again, but she was going to have to deal with it. 

“Follow me, Mera.” 

She would never have described herself as timid in her past lives, but that was definitely what she was feeling like now. There had always been a feeling of uncertainty when she crossed into enemy territory, but now she didn’t have her parents or an entire ocean of man eating sirens for backup. She was on her own. 

Ward walked toward his house, talking about something or another that Mera wasn’t really listening to. They didn’t go into the house, but just kept walking past it. Mera spotted Sarah in her bedroom window. The girl threw her window open and hollered. 

“Mera!” She said with a smile. “How are you?” 

“I’m good, Sarah,” Mera replied, squinted up at the girl. 

“Sorry, Darling,” Ward interjected, putting an uncomfortable arm around Mera’s shoulders. “The girl’s here to work today. Why don’t you bring out some water for her? We’ll be in the pod in the back.” 

“Sure thing,” Sarah said, her smile never once falling. 

“The pod’s just back here,” Ward told Mera, dropping his arm back to his side. He had been nothing but kind to her since she arrived, so why did Mera feel in so much danger every time he was around? Her mother would tell her that was her intuition speaking and that she should listen to it. Her dad would tell her that she should be more trusting of people, that not everyone was going to stab her in the back. 

That left Mera in a very uncomfortable place of not knowing what to do at all. 

“You might feel overwhelmed at how much there is,” Ward said as they walked up to the pod. “But I don’t expect it all done at once.” 

He laughed. Mera must have missed the joke. 

The “pod” was more a warehouse than anything else. Mera let out an unintentional sigh before Ward even opened the door. She let out another when she was actually inside. 

Mera had spent much of her time cleaning things as a pirate. There was a lot of cleaning that took place, especially when she was in trouble. But this? This seemed impossible. 

“I had Rose bring out all the supplies I thought you might need. If you want anything else, just let me know.” Ward didn’t even step a foot inside the pod. “And, remember, don’t mix the bleach and the ammonia. I can’t have you dying on your first day.” 

He laughed again. Mera managed a half of a chuckle, but her mind was elsewhere, wondering how long it was going to take to clean even half of the things that Ward had stored away in here. It didn’t matter, she supposed. The longer it took, the longer she was employed. And having a job was all part of the plan to keep her here. 

“If something is too gross or unusable, just call me or Rafe and we’ll take it right out of your hair,” Ward said. Mera noticed that he had taken a step back. 

She wasn’t sure who she would rather call if she needed help. Rafe, who she had punched in the face and seemed to hate her an incredible (but understandable) amount or Ward, who gave off the weirdest vibes that Mera had ever felt. 

“Thank you,” Mera said finally, turning to look at Ward. 

“If you need anything, just shout.” With that, he turned to leave. 

Mera let out a heavy breath as she turned to face her task at hand. It was better to let her mind go blank and let her hands do all the work. 

The pod was mostly filled with furniture, but the ground was filthy and there was trash here and there. So that’s where Mera started. She picked up the bigger pieces of trash and shoved them into a large, black trash bag, before sweeping the floor that she could see. 

When she finally got to the chemicals, she didn’t know what half of the things were. She was used to water and sometimes soap. Ammonia, bleach, windex, she didn’t have the faintest idea what they were. After reading the labels of every single chemical, bottle, and other cleaning supply that Ward had provided, she felt like she had enough knowledge to get started on the closest thing that needed cleaning, an oven. 

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, sitting cross legged on the floor. She had barely pulled all the racks out and sprayed them with something to soak with the door opened. Half expecting Sarah, Mera turned with a smile, only to find Rafe standing in the doorway. Her smile fell, even as she saw the glass of water in his hand. 

Blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face, Mera felt herself slouch. 

“What do you want?” She asked. Rafe gave her a sneering smile. 

“Careful, Mera. I’m your boss now.” 

“Your dad is my boss.” 

“Same thing.” 

“What can I do for you, Rafe?” She asked, her words dripping with sarcastic sweetness. 

“Oh, nothing.” 

Rafe set the glass of water next to Mera and lowered himself to the ground beside her. Her stomach knotted and she instinctively brought her hand to her hip, where her dagger would have been if she still had her dagger.

Damn. She thought to herself. Why did daggers ever go out of style? 

“Are you just going to sit there and watch?” Mera asked, irritated. Rafe leaned back, a smirk on his lips. 

“I’ll do as I damn please,” he said. Mera rolled her eyes and got back to work, leaving the cup of water untouched. She scrubbed the racks until scrubbing did no more good. She repeated the process with the burners on the top. She was sweating and covered in grime by the time she started searching for a tub to soak the burners and the racks in. 

“What’re you looking for?” Rafe asked, pushing himself to his feet. 

“I don’t need your help,” Mera said in a sing-songy voice as she struggled to climb over all of Ward’s junk. 

“Woah there,” Rafe said, putting out his hands to steady Mera as she stumbled over something. With a glare, Mera tried to pull her arm from his grip, but he held fast. 

“What do you want from me?” She asked him, her eyes narrowing even further and tugging on her arm again. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll scream, I swear to God.” 

“And what would that do for you, huh?” 

“You don’t think your dad wouldn’t believe any lie I told him about what you were doing here with me? He hardly trusts you as is. To him, I’m ten times more trustworthy than you are.” 

The coy smile on his face faltered for just a moment, the facade almost crumbling. 

“You don’t know that.” 

Mera scoffed and pulled her arm away from him as his grip loosened. 

“Look, Rafe, your daddy doesn’t like you. I’m sorry about that, but if you push me, I’ll use it to my advantage.” 

Rafe huffed and took a step backward. 

“What the hell did I do to you to make you hate me so much?” He asked and Mera almost saw an ounce of humanity in him. She suddenly felt the familiar pang of guilt in her stomach. 

“You made assumptions about me because of how I looked, who I hung out with. You were hostile first,” she defended, taking a step away from him. 

“You punched me.” 

“You touched me without my permission.” 

“You act like I assaulted you.” 

“Yeah, well, you-” Mera closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. They were running around in circles and getting nowhere. “Why don’t we start over? I won’t judge you based off of your daddy issues and your anger management problems and you won’t judge me based on my family or my anger management problems, alright?” 

Rafe narrowed his eyes, considering this for a moment. Mera wasn’t really sure why she had offered anyway. She had given him a partial olive branch once and he didn’t take it. He was even more hostile than ever after that. What made her think he would take one now? 

“I can do that.” 

Mera was almost taken aback. Her shock increased when Rafe attempted to smile at her. After a few moments she gave a short nod. 

“Alright. Why don’t you start by helping me find a tub somewhere in this mess.” 

With Rafe’s help, it really didn’t take very long for Mera to find a tub large enough to fit the racks and the stove burners. Pouring a healthy amount of ammonia into a bag, she placed the racks and burners into the bag, tied it up and placed it inside the tub. 

“That stuff reeks,” Rafe groaned, pinching his nose. Mera just let out a sigh of agreement. “What now?” 

“Now I clean the inside and the top,” Mera said, dropping back to her knees. 

“What about the stuff in the tub?” 

“That stays until tomorrow.”

“Oh.” 

“You’ve never had to clean like this before?” She asked him, glancing back with a partial smile. Rafe ran a hand through his hair, messing up the perfectly laid gel. He looked better with his hair tousled. 

“Um, no,” he said finally. Mera found herself giving a small laugh. 

“Well, it’s pretty boring. You don’t have to stand there and watch,” she said. She wasn’t really sure she wanted to be leaning into the oven to clean wearing as short of pants as she was with a boy watching her. It just didn’t seem right somehow. 

“Right. Um, do you want music or something? Just so it’s not so quiet,” Rafe said. All the confidence he was pretending to have before was gone. The barest of a blush graced his cheeks. 

“I’ll survive, Rafe. Thank you.” Mera sat awkwardly on the floor with the scrub brush in her hands just waiting for him to leave. 

“I don’t really have anywhere else to be. Do you mind if I stay?” He added quickly. “I can help if you want.” 

Mera felt a small smile creep up her face. John B and JJ would kill her if they heard what she was about to say. 

“Yeah,” she said. “You can stay. But it would actually be better if you didn’t help. The longer it takes to clean everything in here, the longer I have a job, so….”

“Oh, right. I’ll, uh, just sit over there, then.” 

Mera was glad to see that he chose a place to sit where he didn’t have a direct view of her ass. She started to clean, the tension weighing heavily on them for a while, until Rafe spoke once again. 

“So, how do you like California?” He asked. Mera was grateful that her head was currently in an oven so he couldn’t see the way her eyes widened. 

“California is, uh-” Mera had never been to California. She had no idea what it was like at all. “It was good.”

“Live by the beach?” 

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“I imagine it’s not much different from here.” Mera shook her head even though he couldn’t really see it. “Water’s colder I bet.” 

Mera racked her mind for an answer. The water on the east side of the Americas had always been warmer, she knew that much. She’d never been to the west coast, which was where she was assuming Claifornia was, but she met people who had and they did often complain of cold waters. 

“Much,” she answered finally, hoping it was the right answer. 

“You left a life in California with a rich lawyer mom to live with your pogue cousin in the middle of nowhere?” 

“Guess so.” 

“Why?”

Mera sat back with a sigh, her hands already covered in muck. She brushed her cheek with the back of her hand to scratch an itch, unknowingly leaving behind a black smear. 

The best way to lie is mostly by telling the truth. 

Two major life decisions had brought her here. The first, avenging the death of her father and becoming a siren in the process. The second, choosing to save JJ’s life and leave the ocean for good. But why had she made those decisions in the first place? 

“I knew there was more out there,” she decided on finally. “More that I could be doing, more that I should be doing. I felt trapped, held in a box, forced to do things that I didn’t want to do. I couldn’t handle it anymore. So, when I got my out, I took it.” 

Rafe watched her carefully, noting the distant look in her eyes as she fiddled with the scrubber. 

“Do you want to go back?” 

The ocean called to her every day. If she listened, she could hear it. She still heard Ira’s voice in her head, heard her brothers and sisters calling to her. Her bones ached to be in the water once again, her flesh yearning for her. But Mera wasn’t sure that she wanted to, even if her body called out for it. 

Going back to The Iron Anchor, to her real mother, was a different matter. It was a duller ache, something deeper within her. To be a pirate once again with no responsibilities, no fears, a family who loved her, a job that saved people’s lives. Was that something she wanted? No, not if her father wasn’t there with her. 

So, her mind made up, she finally shook her head. 

“No, I don’t think so,” she said and looked over at him. She didn’t really have much of a choice at this point, but it was still the truth. “This is my life now and I’m learning to enjoy it.” 

“That kinda makes it sound like it wasn’t your choice to leave.” 

Damn. She really wasn’t very good at this whole lying by telling the truth thing. 

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about my family.” Mera leaned back into the oven before he could see her grimacing over her mistake. 

“Right.” She could hear the interest in Rafe’s voice, but he didn’t push.

They talked about simple things for a few more minutes before Sarah came in with a bottle of water. Rafe stood quickly and said something mildly rude before practically running out of the door. 

“That was weird,” Sarah said with a partial laugh. “So, Mera, how are you?” 

                                                          ***

She felt absolutely disgusting as she walked back to the Chateau. Covered in grit, sweat, and old food Mera was a little grouchy as she stepped out of John B’s van. 

“You got a bathing tub?” she asked, holding her arms out to the side of her so the sweat on her arms wasn’t touching her skin. John B’s lips quirked up into a little smile. 

“I’ve got a shower if that’s good enough,” he told her. She scowled but nodded her head. “I’ll show you the way.” 

Mera followed John B back into the house, where Kiara and JJ were lounging on the couch. 

“Hey, Mera,” Kie said with a smile. Her eyes were drooping ever so slightly. The look on Kie’s face and the smell of the air, Mera guessed she and JJ had just finished smoking. The smell made her nose scrunch. 

“How was work?” JJ asked as he lifted his head. 

“Good,” Mera said, eager to get in the shower. 

“Rafe give you any problems?” 

Mera felt herself clam up. She gave a shrug of her shoulders, refusing to look him in the eye. She somehow felt like she shouldn’t tell them about her civil conversation with Rafe. They definitely wouldn’t approve. 

“Nope,” she said. “I’m gonna go to the...shower? Yeah, the shower.” 

“Water’s probably cold,” John B said once they got to the bathroom. “Hope that isn’t a problem.” 

Mera simply shook her head. She grabbed a new set of clothes, John B’s sweats and JJ’s sweater, before locking herself in the bathroom. Peeling off her clothes was like peeling of skin. The denim shorts especially clung to her skin and by the time it was all off, Mera couldn’t have been happier. It finally felt like she could breathe. 

Stepping into the tub, the water cascaded down her body and washed away everything that was weighing her down. The feeling of water against her skin was refreshing and familiar. It wasn’t the same as the salty, ocean water she was used to, but it was almost close enough. If she closed her eyes and tried hard enough, she could almost imagine that she was back under the surface, deep in the depths of the sea. 

The ocean was always dark unless you were near the surface during the day time. Dark and deep and unknowable. It was just something you had to get used to as a siren, the darkness and the numbness. 

But even the darkness couldn’t hide the smell of the blood or the muffled yet terrified screams of the sailors as they drowned. Nor could the darkness cover up the look of the light draining out of their eyes. 

350 years worth of killing, 350 years worth of lost souls pinned to Mera’s back. 

All those people, all those families who lost someone to Mera’s own teeth, they haunted her every waking second. Even if she tried to cover it up, drown it out with any distraction she could find, she saw their faces in everything. The ocean call distorted into the sounds of their screaming. 

Mera snapped her eyes open. If her heart still beat like a normal person’s, it would be pounding, throbbing in her ears and in her chest. She supposed she carried an ounce of numbness with her still. 

If her heart didn’t beat, how human could she really be?

Pulling a shuddering breath in through her nose, Mera turned off the shower and stepped out. She wrung out her hair before twisting it up into a misshapen bun. A heaviness still hung on her shoulders as she pulled on the sweatshirt and sweatpants. With her hair dripping wet and now fully dressed, Mera felt a thousand times better than she did before, but her mind was full of fuzziness. Maybe it was a desire to sleep, maybe it was thinking about her life as Apa. 

It didn’t matter either way. Mera pushed the bathroom door open to find that the sun was starting to set, the world covered in a smoky blueness. All of her friends were outside, sitting by the hammocks. She paused for a moment at the door, watching them in the light of dusk. 

Pope had showed up sometime when she was in the shower. He rested his head in Kiara’s lap as she strummed her ukelele. Her soft voice, carried by the wind, was sweet like milk. She sang what almost sounded like a sea shanty, just with words that Mera didn’t recognize. But she had a voice that would make even a siren jealous. That thought made Mera smile. Just picturing Ira’s face when she heard Kiara sing….

Pope hummed along to Kiara’s song, John B tapping his fingers against the beer bottle in his hands. It was a song they clearly all knew. Mera wondered if she would ever be able to recognize songs they knew someday. Maybe she would be able to hear their songs and not be reminded of her own. Or maybe she could teach them some of the ones she knew and then the songs no longer had to be hers versus theirs, but they could share them all. 

Mera liked the thought of that. 

Taking her first step out of the house, she felt that weight on her chest evaporate. JJ saw her first and a lazy smile pulled across his lips. He moved over even though there was already plenty of room between him and John B, so Mera took that as an indication that he wanted her to sit next to him. Pulling at her sleeves, she lowered herself to the ground as quietly as she could, not wanting to interrupt the jam session. 

JJ leaned back, setting his hand a few inches behind Mera. She was painfully aware of how close he was to her, heat radiating off of him. 

“Have a nice shower?” he whispered. Mera nodded her head slowly, not trusting her own voice to respond. He watched her carefully, his eyes narrowing. She could feel his gaze ghost over her body. If it was anyone else, it would have made her stiffen up, but for some reason, she didn’t. 

“Mera?” Kiara stopped strumming and looked up. Pope carried the tune for a few more moments before realizing his muse had gone silent. Shaking away her thoughts about JJ, Mera looked to her friend with a soft smile. 

“Yes?” 

“I’ve been wondering...you don’t have to answer, but, I just wanted to know why you chose to leave the ocean when you did. I mean, I know you said that you didn’t like the...killing....anymore. But why now? Why now after all this time?” 

Mera felt her breath hitch in her throat and she resisted the urge to look back at JJ. Part of her wished she could tell a lie and just pretend that it had nothing to do with him, but what point was there in that? Why lie to her only friends? 

“I was always waiting for the right time.” Mera spoke slowly at first, her mouth going dry. “I’d seen you guys surfing there before, all of you. When I saw JJ floating in the water, I waited for you guys to come, hoping that it wouldn’t have to be me. Stories of rogue sirens were used as a way to keep us in line, along with the nets. They were meant to keep us from even thinking about going to the surface and for so long, it worked.” She finally turned to look at JJ just out of the corner of her eye, her voice going soft. He struggled to meet her gaze.  

“I saw you there in the water and I knew what I had to do, but I waited until the last second and for that I’m sorry.” JJ twitched like he was going to say something, but decided against it. “I couldn’t just let him die. He was my way out, the linchpin that gave me the courage to finally do what I should have a long time ago.” 

“Did it hurt?” JJ asked. His voice was soft, barely audible even though she was right there next to him. She looked back at him again and when he glanced up at her, Mera could have sworn he saw something like tears shimmering in his eyes. 

“No,” she said as firmly as she could, but her voice broke. 

“Don’t lie,” John B said from her other side. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes fixed on a patch of grass by Pope’s head and his jaw tight. He absentmindedly picked at the blades beneath him.

Mera let out a heavy sigh and her shoulders sagged. 

“Yes, it hurt,” she said again, all confidence gone from her voice. 

“What was it like?” Pope asked. His eyes were glued to her, wide and soaking in her every word. 

“It was like….” Mera brought her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs. The air felt suddenly cold against her still drying skin. “It was like breaking through a thousand layers of glass. Like claws were just….” She ran her fingernails gently over her arm, lungs tightening in her chest. “And that was just getting out of the water. I barely got JJ  to the shore before everything else hit me. My gills were fading and I couldn’t breathe, my tail was dissolving, the webbing in my hands was going and it was cold, so cold. I don’t think my words are enough to explain it, but I was falling apart physiologically and being put back together again. I didn’t feel it the first time when I became a siren, but I felt it this time. I felt every single thing.” 

A single tear drops from Mera’s eye. She didn’t feel like she wanted to cry, but the tear came anyway. She swiped away the trail of water the tear left behind and looked up, pressing her lips together in an attempt to smile. 

“My god,” Kie breathed. 

“Hey, anything is better than where I was before. Besides,” Mera gave a real smile. “All that pain brought me here, to you guys.” 

There was a moment of silence. The wind blew, rustling the leaves in the trees. 

“Well, shit, Mera,” JJ said and gave a playful pout. “You did that for me?” 

She could tell it was a joke in attempts to lighten the mood, so Mera laughed, but she didn’t find the words to respond. Another silence followed.  

“You ever seen Pirates of the Caribbean?” John B asked. Kie looked at him with her eyebrows pinched together. Mera wasn’t sure how to answer his question. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she presumed the answer would be no. 

“It’s a movie,” Pope said when no one else said anything. “A...a series of moving pictures. We can watch it sometime if you want.” 

“What, you think just because I’m a pirate I want to consume anything and everything that pertains to pirates now?” Mera asked with a raised eyebrow. Pope stammered a few things before Mera laughed. “Because you would think right. I would love to watch it sometime.” 

“Oh, if we’re catching you up on pop culture, you gotta watch Lost Boys,” JJ suggested. 

“Lost Boys, J, really?” Kie scowled at her friend. “Of all the movies, that’s the one you want her to see first?” 

“C’mon, Kie. Vampires in Santa Cruz? Twilight would never exist if it wasn’t for Lost Boys. It’s iconic.” 

“We have very different opinions on what ‘iconic’ means.” 

“We should make a running list,” John B suggested, leaning forward with a smile on his face. “All the books and movies and music and whatnot that you should see.”

Mera nodded fervently. She needed to be up to date on everything “pop culture” as JJ called it so she could blend in, but she also wanted to be able to fit in with these people, her friends. 

“I like that idea,” Mera said. Her voice was quiet as she tried to cover the fact that she was near tears once again. That they would do this for her, introduce her to all the things that they love to her, open themselves up to her, it meant the world. It was like she found her crew and she never wanted to lose them again. 

“Wait, Mera,” JJ said. “Do vampires exist?” 

She turned her head toward him as John B scooted toward Pope and Kie to start compiling a list of things to introduce Mera to. 

“I don’t know,” she said to him. “I’ve heard rumors though from some of my crew, but if vampires do exist I wouldn’t know.” 

“What about werewolves?” He asked. There was a giddy look in his eyes and a partial smile. 

“I couldn’t help you there either,” Mera said, disappointed in herself for letting him down. His smile faltered for a moment, so Mera spoke quickly. “But ghosts are real! And the undead too, skeletons and things of the like.” 

JJ’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened. For a moment, Mera thought she had said something wrong, but then a smile broke across his face. He threw one of his arms over her shoulders and pulled her in closer. Mera let out a quiet laugh. 

“Why didn’t you say that sooner?” He asked with a laugh.

“You didn’t ask.” 

“What else is out there?” There it was again, that look in his eyes. 

She told him as much as she could before they were roped into the other conversation. Mera listened and laughed as the four shouted out all the different things that Mera should be introduced to. At some point, it went from books and movies and music to surfing and roller skating and beer pong. The more they talked, the more excited Mera got. 

“Hey, tomorrow we should go to the Wreck!” Kiara said suddenly, perking up. 

“What is that? An abandoned ship or something?” Mera asked, remembering how they had named their party spot “the boneyard” even though there were no bones. 

“Oh, no,” Kiara laughed. “My mom and dad’s restaurant. We hang out there a lot.” 

“I have nothing other than work tomorrow,” Mera said, her smile holding fast. 

After their brief interlude, the conversation went right back to what it was before with the addition of food. Mera couldn’t help the laughter that flowed from her mouth. It was comfortable here, with her friends, her new crew. 

And all the while, she didn’t realize that JJ had never dropped his arm from around her shoulders or that every time she laughed, his eyes were on her and only her. 

Mera could only think about how right this felt. Sitting with these people laughing about nothing and everything, it was just right. 

This was safe. This was home.

~~~

tagging -  @lolitstiana​ @drew-starkeys​ @youfookendonut​ @x-lulu​ @diverrdown​ @parkerpetertingle​ @simonsbluee​

[hurricanerin]

Not Just One of Your Many Toys 1: Don’t Tell Me What to Do

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale/OFC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS, loss of virginity, power imbalance, general dickishness

Summary: Ransom and Olivia have been thorns in each other’s sides for fifteen years.  They’ve tolerated one another, coaxed each other through major milestones, and trampled on one another’s hearts.  After years spent healing from one of Ransom’s toxic outburst, Olivia finds herself subpoenaed by the Drysdale family as a character witness for his criminal trial.  Their son is out of control, and the one person with the best chance of getting through to him wants absolutely nothing to do with the man.   

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Steamier things are coming, my friends.

Listen. Or kick it retro. You won’t regret it.)

Boston, 2005

 There has never been a moment in my life that I haven’t known exactly who Ransom Drysdale is.  We met in the fall of 2005, right after my dad was promoted with General Electric and my family had moved to Boston from Puerto Rico for his new job. I was 13 and Ransom was 19, and I could’ve told you within 5 minutes of enduring his company that he was a playboy and a Grade A narcissist.  

My parents and his mom, the legendary Linda Drysdale, had closed on our new house the week before.  When my papá had mentioned to our realtor that he had 6 engineer brothers and sisters in PR also looking to move to the Boston area, Linda immediately swooped in and took over the sale.  We had moved into the new house for two days when who showed up on our doorstep with a giant Harry and David gift basket on his mother’s behalf? Ransom.  I’ve never seen my mom so taken with a man so quickly.  It was absolutely nauseating.  

My mom and I had been sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with my little brother when Ransom waltzed in, ruining our meal.  While he charmed my mom, I shooed Gian from the table, stuffed him into his coat and boots and shoved his toast into his hand.  

“You’re gonna miss your bus, vete,” I said with an affectionate push.

He waved me off, but I could see his smile as he scrambled out the door towards his friends.  When I turned around, Mamá was on the phone, distractedly scribbling on a notepad at the center island.  Ransom had seated himself at our table and was examining the gift basket. After retrieving a pear, he rearranged the treats so it looked as if nothing were missing.  Catching my eye, he shot me a grin, took a bite of the fruit and flaunted it in front of me.

“Want some?”

My mom’s groan of frustration cut off my retort as she hung up.  Without missing a beat, Ransom hid the pear behind his leg.

Clipping her beeper to the waist of her skirt, she motioned at my backpack.  “Ol, you need to get your school stuff and hop in the car, I have to go to the hospital early.  I need to drive you; school is on the way.  A patient needs to go into surgery now.”

I scowled and put my hands on my hips. “I’m taking the bus with my friends. You said at this school I could!”

Already gathering her coat and keys, she shook her head.  “I’m sorry, mija.  Not today.  Come on, we need to go.  I can’t leave you alone at home for that long.”

My nose started to sting.  I didn’t want to sit at school alone for an hour and have to explain to my new friends why I wasn’t on the bus like everyone else.

Carefully watching the interaction, Ransom cleared his throat.  “Mrs. Santos, I would be happy to stay with her until her bus comes.  I’m home on break from Yale for the week and would love nothing more than to get to know your daughter,” he offered, radiating charisma.

“Oh Ransom, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Honestly, our house is only a few streets away, so we’re practically neighbors.  It would be no problem.”

She hesitated, glancing from Ransom to her watch. Back home, we didn’t have babysitters. Family played that role.  I couldn’t imagine leaving her 13 year-old home alone with a strange man was high on her list of things to do in the US.

Ransom read the situation well.  “Mrs. Santos, my girlfriend is just at my parents’.  Why don’t I give her a call and the three of us can clean up the kitchen until…,” he motioned at me.

“Olivia,” I snipped.

He didn’t flinch.  “Until Olivia’s bus comes,” he finished with a smile.

“I suppose… that would be alright,” Mamá agreed.  “Your family is so kind!”  Sighing in relief, she snagged me for a kiss goodbye and scurried towards the door.  “Behave, Ol! I’ll see you at dinner,” she shouted over her shoulder.

I listened to the garage door close and turned to find him thumbing through the Harry and David catalogue while dabbing pear juice from his lips with a napkin.  I glared at him for a minute.

“You and your mom are just being nice to my parents because I have a lot of aunts and uncles moving here,” I accused.

He looked up, laughing in surprise.  Nodding his head to the side, he shrugged a shoulder, “You’re not wrong.  Did they tell you that?”

“No, but I can tell.”

A soft ping sounded and he patted his pockets, pulling out a phone from his jacket.  He continued nibbling at the pear until all that was left was the core, then absently dumped it on my abandoned breakfast plate.  I walked closer and peered at the screen in his hands while he typed furiously.

“Do you have any games on your phone?” I asked.

“This isn’t a phone, it’s a Blackberry.”

“Do you have any games on your Blackberry?  Like Snake?  My mom’s phone has Snake.”

“No, it doesn’t have Snake,” he snapped as he pulled a headset from his jacket pocket and plugged it into the headphone jack. Almost immediately it rang and he slipped the earpiece on, pushing me.

“Jackson?”  He sighed at me in irritation and turned away.  “Yeah, come up this weekend.  They’re two Norwegian bitches, semi-professional skiers or something. Super hot.  They’re in the US to train but stopping to vacation in New England or whatever.”  He ran his finger along the wicker of the gift basket while he listened to his friend respond.  With an exasperated sigh, he shook his head.  “No, no, we don’t need to take them sailing for them to put out.”

I stared at him, my jaw dropping.  I knew it was rude to both stare and eavesdrop, but I had never met anyone who was so blatantly awful.

“They’ll fuck us because I’m crazy rich, bro, don’t worry,” Ransom chuckled.  He leaned back against the table and rolled his eyes as his friend prattled on, until his gaze landed on me.  His eyes widened.

“Shit,” he muttered.  “Jax, I’m not alone.  I gotta go.”

He yanked the earpiece off and tossed it on the table, leaning towards me with his elbows on his knees.  

I scowled.  “You don’t really have a girlfriend who’s coming over.”

“Olivia,” he said with a practiced smile that actually reached his beaming eyes.  Ignoring my statement, he took me in for a moment, cataloguing my appearance as his gaze came to rest on my neck.

“That’s such a pretty necklace you’re wearing, did you pick it out yourself?”

My insides tingled a little.  I didn’t like-him-like-him or anything, but he did look like a prince and he had complemented the starfish necklace my parents had given me for my birthday last summer.  It was my favorite.

“It was a present from my mom and dad, from when I turned 13 last year.”

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath.  Something about me being a kid.  I didn’t know what that meant, because he made an angry face. But that quickly went away and then his prince face was back.

“That was my friend Jackson on the phone,” he motioned at his Blackberry with his thumb, “We go to college together.  We joke around a lot,” he chuckled, rubbing my shoulder. “You do that with your friends, too, right?  Tell jokes, mess around?”

Confused and skeptical, I nodded.

“And you don’t always tell those jokes to your parents, because they don’t understand them.  You keep them between you and your friends.”

I raised my brow, trying to look formidable.  “You don’t want me to tell my mom what you were talking about.”

The friendliness in his expression melted away, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards instead.  “Exactly.”

 To this day, I wish I could say I stuck up for myself; that I told my mom how much of a jerk he was.  How he was a deceptive, womanizing liar who didn’t deserve an ounce of our time.  But, I didn’t.  Instead, I stooped to Ransom’s level.

My family had money; my mom was a physician and my dad a senior engineer for GE.  We lived very comfortably.  We had spent several months in the US in an apartment before finding the house, during which they had been earning American salaries and making more than ever.  But, both of my parents came from humble means, sent a lot of money back home to their own parents and grandparents, and did not appreciate the materialism I faced every day at the private school they sent me to.

And Ransom had… a lot of money.  He had made that clear over the phone.  I’m not proud to admit that I requested the Tiffany heart tag bracelet I had seen other girls wearing at school in exchange for my silence.  I’m even less proud that, after scoffing at my proposal, Ransom walked me right past the Tiffany & Co. on Newbury Street and in to Cartier and had me pick out a bracelet there instead.  He said he hadn’t bought Tiffany for a girl since he was my age and that he wasn’t lowering himself.  I still have the bracelet buried in my jewelry box, though I never put it on.  Considering its origins, it feels dirty to wear, but I can’t bear to part with it.

 Boston, 2007

 In 2007, we found out my dad had a mistress.  He had paid for her to move over from PR and had been supporting her in Boston for two years.  That would’ve flown in PR, but in the US, my mom’s friends wouldn’t stand for it. (Especially the female divorce lawyer next door.)  That was more or less the end of my dad’s presence in my life.  There’s a chance he might walk me down the aisle one day, but that’s only if Mamá insists on a super Catholic wedding.  

My dad leaving didn’t affect me like it did my mom and Gian. I had my friends and tennis, but Gian was younger and quieter; he and my dad spent a lot of time with little robot projects and those LEGO sets and I could tell he missed him.  Mamá was lonely at home, too; she and my dad had been together since high school.  She had spent a lot of time taking care of him, despite her working 60 hour weeks.

A few of my dad’s sisters hung around as moral support, but Papá eventually pressured them until they stopped coming to see us.  However, there was an additional isolated party within our vicinity who also needed a group of humans to latch onto; someone with the capacity to fill the role of both quasi-paternal figure (figure, not role model), and platonic spouse.

I’d seen Ransom with Mrs. Drysdale; at best, she spoiled her son.  At worst, she placated him with money, demeaned and dismissed him.  Even I didn’t appreciate how she treated him and most days I didn’t like him.  After graduating last in his class from Yale, Ransom took the year off to get away from her. Not a normal “take the year off” where you travel to learn about yourself, or work, or anything like that. Instead, Ransom bought property in the Maldives and imported $500,000 worth of Dom Perignon—the Rose Gold kind—, and flew in ballerinas from Moscow while telling his mom he was joining the Peace Corps for a girl.  When there was fraud on his black AmEx and he had to phone home for help, there was hell to pay when the call came from not Mongolia.  Linda cut him off and kicked him out.

For six months, but still.  This was Ransom.

My mother, bless her heart, would have absorbed all children needing a home if she could.  And, though he was 21, Ransom definitely qualified as such a child.  I honestly think Ransom needed the mothering, too. Growing up with a nanny paid to give you care is not a replication of a mother’s love, which he never had in the first place.

Ransom always showered Mamá with attention, asking how she was with utter sincerity while maintaining direct eye contact, thanking her for the work she did as a cardiac surgeon, and other general sycophantic niceties.  I was terrified that would change for the worst after he moved in, despite their generous age gap.  A freshly divorced woman could’ve been new prey for him.  It wasn’t that she didn’t know who and what he was—she was under no illusions.  But she had a soft spot for the broken bad boy with mommy issues and indulged him.

I watched him like a hawk when he was around her, but he never made a move.  He certainly let her wait on him; she cooked him food from scratch and listened to him talk while she cleaned up the kitchen, but he was never salacious.  I still give him props for that.  It would have been an entertaining game for him, one he would’ve easily won.  

It helped that he was gone half the time.  He still had his car, keys to the Hamptons house and access to his friends’ jets and properties.   I’m pretty sure Richard was also slipping him $50k a month because Ransom rebuilt his wardrobe pretty quickly.

I will admit I was slightly… antagonistic towards him during the beginning of his time with us.  I may have picked a few fights.  He wanted to watch Sin City because of Jessica Alba; I wanted to watch the Corpse Bride.  He left questionable-looking hair trimmings in the shower drain and you can bet I was pounding on his door.  He gave me that look when I thought I had dressed nicely, and I may or may not have launched myself at him.  But, near the middle of his stay, we learned to co-exist, and even had some decent conversations.  I chilled out when I saw how he was with Gian.  

I’m not sure Mamá ever officially asked Ransom to step up while he was living with us, I think the only conditions she had was that he tip the cleaning people an extra $150 for how bad his room was, not have his douchey friends over past 10pm, and no sleepovers with the opposite sex.  But, it was obvious to everyone under our roof that Gian looked to Ransom for companionship.  And, to my utter surprise, Ransom kind of delivered.  He took Gian to the U.S. Open and up to Lake Champlain to golf a few times, and they’d hang out at the house when Ransom was home.  

Then, one day I heard him call Gian his charity project to his friends as they sat out on the porch.  The second he came inside I punched him in the arm over that.  The weirdest part about Ransom and his awful behavior is that he only kinds of means it.  I mean, the idea was there, he had had the thought that Gian was less fortunate than him and needed his help.  But I also know he genuinely loved my little brother and was making spending time with him out to be a bigger deal than it really was.

Six months to the day, Ransom had a moving company at our doorstep at 8am sharp.  He only had a few hanging wardrobes worth of clothes to move into his new apartment; all of the furniture was being delivered by the dealer, but the man couldn’t lower himself to drive his own U-Haul.  By that time, I had developed an appreciation for Ransom.  It was kind of nice to have someone older to talk to, even though he had no conception of what real life was like.  He was okay.  I didn’t miss sharing a dwelling space with him, but I did kind of miss him.

 Boston, Fall 2009

 That fall, I was 18 and a senior at the Winsor School and Ransom was 25 and bullshitting his way through his Master’s of Science in Business Analytics at Princeton.  I preferred not to ask questions regarding his attendance or grades.  I figured the less I knew, the less I could be implicated in some scandal involving the university and bribery.

High school wasn’t a great time in my life. The kids at Winsor were spoiled and came from generations of overachievers.  You could say there were a lot of Ransoms, I suppose; self-serving, arrogant, brutal, conceited, rich kids.  I’m not saying I didn’t share some of those traits, I knew I was fortunate, but I liked to think I was a decent person.  As a result, I was relatively lonely.  I had the varsity tennis team, and that fit my basic  need for socialization.  But not once did I ever entertain the thought of a boyfriend.

As the years progressed, I waited for the mutual attraction for my peers to arrive.  It never did. At that age, even if boys had adopted the air of sophistication they had seen modeled at home and had the ability to charm, they severely lacked in a different department, like intelligence or maturity.  I shut down every advance without a second thought and didn’t look back.

Until, that is, my Senior year.  As leaving home was becoming a reality, I decided I didn’t want to go to college a virgin.  I just didn’t.  Things happen in college, things you don’t always have control over, and I liked control.  I liked control very much.  And I wanted to have control over when and how I gave it up.  And I wasn’t giving it up to some 18 year old I had dated for a three months who couldn’t kiss and also didn’t have the experience to help me enjoy the process.

But I knew someone who did.

I smirked as a key sounded in the lock, Ransom had never given his back from a few years ago.

“Ol?” his voice echoed up the stairs.

“In the kitchen!”

The old stairs creaked as he ascended, heading straight for the refrigerator without even looking at me.

“Hey,” he nodded in greeting.

“Hey.”  For the first time in my life, I was nervous talking to him.  I’d texted him, asking if he could stop by, which wasn’t out of character.  He usually popped in at least once a month to return a book, pick up a sweater he forgot that my mom had washed or have dinner with us.  He lingered, even after moving out.  The flight from Princeton to Boston was only an hour, and it meant a lot to Gian, to all of us, really, that Ransom still visited.

While Ransom dug through the fridge, pulling out some leftover chorizo, I set about throwing together some protein smoothies for us.  He had left a container of ridiculously expensive something something collagen protein at our house the last time he was there and it was expiring soon, so I split the remainder between us.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fuss with the microwave.

I raised a brow.  “You know how to use kitchen appliances?”

He took an exaggerated bite of a sausage slice. “Selectively,” he winked.

I bit my cheek to keep from laughing.  Ransom’s “selective” helplessness didn’t need encouragement.

I think what we worked in was companionable silence, but I’m not positive.  I was pretty geared up, so it was hard to tell.  Settling at the table, I laid plates out for both of us, chewing my lip.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“I can’t get you into Yale early decision, but I can get you in,” he said as he reached for his smoothie.

I rolled my eyes.  “I’ve already gotten into Brown on my own, which was my first choice, thank you. What I need is… different.”

“What is it?  I’ve got cash with me.”

“Ransom!  Listen to me. Just let me ask my question.”

“Okay!” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming as he swirled his glass.

“Okay,” I repeated, my heart pounding in my chest. I made myself look him in the eye. All of a sudden I wanted to cry? What if he said no?  What if he laughed?  What if he never talked to me again?

“Ol, you’re getting pale.  You look like you’re about to ask me to skin a cat.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, seconds away from losing my nerve. I inhaled deeply, folding my hands on the table in front of me and sitting up straight.

“Ransom,” I began.

“Olivia,” he countered, his face comically serious.

“I want you to take my virginity.  Now that I’m 18—.”

“Hah—You what?  No you don’t, Olivia, you don’t—.”

“I do.”

“Ehhhh,” he made a pained face and shook his head.  “I mean, what do you mean by virginy? What have you done before?”

“Nothing.”

“But you’ve given head though, right?”

I tried to mask my embarrassment with a look of disdain.

When Ransom gaped in surprise, I kicked him under the table.

“A handjob?”

“I said nothing,” I bit out.

The corner of his mouth pulled upward and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing.  “What about like… getting off with each other?”

I shook my head.  

“Sexting?”

“There’s no one I want to sext.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“But like…”

“I’ve never touched or been touched, Ransom.  I’ve never seen a man naked, okay?”

He sighed.  “I don’t do virgins.  It’s a personal policy.  Especially someone like you who has absolutely no experience.”

That stung, but I kept trying.  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No—.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Ol, I don’t date—.”

“Ransom, this is exactly the type of arrangement you want!” I hissed.

“This should be something you do with a boyfriend, someone your age who you care about and who cares about you.”

I groaned and stormed into the living room, plopping into an easy chair.  

“I don’t want a boyfriend.  I’m going to Brown in the fall, so dating someone now would be pointless. And in Providence, between Chi Omega, studying, volunteering, and AMSA, I just won’t have time for a relationship.”

Ransom couldn’t suppress a laugh as he tailed after me.  “You’re as heartless as I am.”

“I’m not heartless,” I argued.  “I’m practical.”

He gave me a patronizing smile.  “You’ve never done this before, you don’t know how you’ll feel afterwards.  It’s sex. Girls get attached.  I just can’t do that, babe.”

"You can!  Ransom, you can.  I won’t get attached.  I’ll leave you alone after.  I won’t text you for a month.  Please? I—,” my cheeks flamed as I looked down at my hands.  Bickering and bantering with Ransom was easy.  Acting like I disliked him was easy.  But being vulnerable with him?  That was terrifying.  “I want it to be you,” I whispered.  “I don’t trust anyone else.”

With a sigh, he perched on the arm of my chair.

“I’m going back to Princeton on Sunday.  Even if we did it tonight, we wouldn’t have 48 hours together.”

“I don’t care!” I slapped the seat of the chair. “What if—what if I get roofied and lose it to some guy and don’t even remember it?  Or—or someone, you know… one in every four women faces sexual assault in college…”

That perpetual, devious gleam in Ransom’s eyes disappeared.  Something brutal and vicious replaced it.

  “I’d kill him.  I’d kill anyone who touched you like that.”

My chest tightened.  I’d never seen him that serious before, not even when he argued with his mom.  It was a little terrifying.  But, I had carried pepper spray on me for years since moving to the city and I already knew my parents were sending me to college with a SipChip, not that I’d be going to parties anyway.  I tried another angle.

  “I know I’m not the girls you normally sleep with—blonde, white, with yachts and horses and trust funds—

Darkness cast over his face.

“Olivia,” he interrupted.  Brow creasing, Ransom lifted his hand near my face, then hesitated. With a growl, he cupped my jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, brushing the knuckle of the opposite hand against my cheek.  “And trust funds are so mundane.”

I rose from the chair and leaned against his leg. “Then why don’t you want me?”  It took everything in me to keep my voice from breaking.

Ransom shifted uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ol, I’ve known you since you were a kid.  I can’t—I just don’t see you that way.”

“You still see me as a child?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Butterflies flapped madly in my belly, but I held my breath and stepped forward between his legs until our chests were pressed together, trapping my hand between us at his groin.  Praying that I applied what I had read correctly, I timidly felt for his cock. He grunted when I wrapped my hand around the outline of its shape and followed it with a shy stroke.

“I am not a child,” I husked in my best seductress voice.

“You said you’d never touched or been touched,” he accused through clenched teeth.

Both proud and embarrassed, I ducked my head. “I don’t like entering a situation unprepared.  I read a lot and watched some videos.”  Realizing the implications of my statement, I turned beet red.  “For research, I mean!”

That earned me a genuine smile.  Sliding one hand around my waist he pulled me closer, then used the other to firmly guide my palm over his half erect cock, rubbing it back and forth.  I blushed as I felt him harden under my fingers.

“What else did you research?”

"Stuff,” I mumbled.

Rubbing his thumb along my hipbone, his gaze fell to his lap, watching my hand work over his erection.  Then his eyes deviated to my front, trailing up my belly to my chest, which was, admittedly, heaving, and slowly made their way to my face. Looking someone in the eye had never made me clench down there before.  It was unexpected, but not unappreciated.

I could see Ransom thinking, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine as he reasoned with himself.

“You need to think this over, you need to really consider what you’re asking me and decide that’s what you want,” he murmured, his voice rough.

My pussy throbbed at the sound, and it took extra concentration not to let my eyes close.

“When have I ever made a rash decision about something this important?  I started thinking about this a year ago.”

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.  “Of course you did.”

When his hips gave an involuntary thrust against my palm, he gently pulled my wrist away.

“That’s enough for now.”

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.  “Did I do it wrong?  Is that a no?”

He massaged his closed eyelids with his index finger and thumb, exhaling shakily.  “It should be a no.  A good man would say no.”  

Drawing me against him once more, I whimpered as he ground his cock against my belly.  “But I’ve never been a good man, have I, Olivia?”

He didn’t give me an opportunity to respond. The kiss was firm, but delicate. No tongues or biting or slipping or sliding, just lips pressed together, gently massaging.  When he sucked at my lower lip I surprised both of us with a soft moan, causing him to bury his hand in my hair and tilt my head for better access.

I completely lost track of everything, because the next moment of consciousness I had was gasping for air as he pulled away. My fingers were tangled in his hair, my hand clutching his sweater like it was a lifeline, and his thigh was situated between both of mine, applying pressure to my clit that was making me see stars.  Now my mouth was wet, but I didn’t care.

Once I could see straight, I dove for his mouth again, but he stopped me with an unyielding grip on my chin.

“Change,” he rumbled.  “We’ll go to dinner at Menton, I’ll pull some strings and get us a table.  Then back to my apartment.”

I squinted, still reeling from the kiss. “We’re not going to Menton first, that makes it sound like a date.  This isn’t a date, we have one mission to accompli—.”

He gaze grew cold.  “If we do this, we’re doing it my way.  You’re going to listen to me.  I’m in charge.”

My eyes flicked back and forth between his as my entire face and neck glowed pink.  

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Say ‘Yes, sir,’” he corrected me.

“Yes, sir,” I repeated softly.

The pleased smile that spread across his lips gave me a warm feeling in my belly.

“Tonight, I’m going to destroy your pussy,” he whispered against my ear, sucking at my lobe, “I’m going to make you come like a whore.”  Moving to my other side, he spoke softly again, his warm breath against my cheek making me shiver.  “Your future husband will resent me for the rest of your lives, because I’m going to ruin you for any other man.”  Nuzzling my nose with the tip of his, he kissed the corner of my mouth.  “And you’re going to love it.”

I couldn’t help myself.  I was throbbing, there was pressure building in my belly and the man had barely laid a hand on me.  With a high pitched whimper, I sought his mouth again, but he wrapped his huge hand around my throat and shook his head as he held me back.

“Go.  Pick out something nice to wear.  Something you feel pretty in.”

Mouth dry, I nodded.  He caught my arm as I went to leave.

“And Olivia?  Not a scrap of clothing underneath.”

[heavenlysan]

Cruel Love [6]

Mafialeader!San | Detective!Reader | Soulmates | Choi San x female reader | NSFW!!! | Explicit language | T/W Harassment, Light violence and mentions of blood |

Words: 4,3k

Chapters:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

(Y/N'S POV)

The last ray of dim light disappeared after closing the door I rest against the door holding my chest trying to control the unknown things happening inside of me I look through the peephole and he's still there he stares blankly into space while touching his lips he smiles so big and raises one of his hands in victory he's happy? 

I go to bed thinking about how San is nothing like Irene's report portrayed him or at least he hasn't showed that side yet. He is a caring man who blushes easily. I feel my old phone vibrating under the mattress and I hurry up to see who it is if it's Irene I'm doomed.

"Hello?"

"Hey y/n how is the fake life going?" I sigh relieved after hearing Dylan's voice.

"Are you drunk or dumb? We're not supposed to have contact"

"I know" He laughs loudly "I just don't know if you remember that I'm working on your last case and one of the papers is missing I wanted to know if you still have it or if I have to ask our boss"

"Really? I left everything organised it shouldn't be missing but I probably messed up without realising it probably is in my apartment" I scratch my head trying to remember.

"Can I go to your old apartment to pick it up then?" He asks.

"Sure ask the doorman to open the door for you I'll call to let them know you're passing by" It's completely okay it's not the first time he does it I've known Dylan for two years almost three and it's not the first time he's there without me being present.

"Okay I'll call you after getting them, take care y/n" He ends the call.

I feel so troubled I feel really tired but I have to stay up to write a report that I don't even know where to start. Tonight San didn't show a single sign of him being a criminal we talked about our life and the FBI is surely not interested in his childhood. He did showed signs of his wealth the earrings, his expensive car and renting a whole planetarium just for us. I search around on the Internet to find how much the earrings are and my jaw drops as soon as I see the price 14,995 dollars. He must have a lot of money if he can do that casually buying expensive jewelry like it's candy. Me being an average human getting an average paycheck can't understand how he can spend that much on a woman he just met? My phone rings again, it's Dylan but is just a message this time.

Damn you must have been on a huge rush to leave your apartment like that 😭 since you can't come back for idk how long I'll clean it and tidy this place up for you but you owe me one.

What is he talking about? I call him immediately but he doesn't answer. What is he doing? I try again but it sends me to voicemail his message was sent only seconds ago why can't he pick up? But I try not to worry and just send him a message.

What do you mean? you're so dramatic not all of us are perfectionists and clean as you are I left my apartment as it always is and answer your phone I called you twice!!

I go back to my report and I write the little information I have I know Irene is going to yell at me because she gave me specific instructions of writing an extremely detailed report but the only thing I have is evidence of his wealth besides I'm doing a good job San is opening up and the whole point is gaining his trust Irene said it herself San was hard to find and me getting this close is in fact more than she expected.

I rest my head on the desk just to close my eyes for a little moment the tiredness is a lot but I have to keep on writing.

…

The sun dazzled me and I straighten up in my seat fuck I was supposed to just rest my eyes for a moment but I fell asleep. I stretch my arms and legs and I feel good It's been a long time since I've slept so well. My heart starts beating fast when I hear a knock on the door and I get up so fast to open just to find Irene on the other side.

"You must have had a rough night you look…" She looks at me from head to toes and tries to find non-offensive words or at least that's what she looks like. "Anyways remember my instructions? I'm here to see your report"

I don't really say anything to her I just guide her to my desk and give her the report.

"This is just" She holds the bridge of her nose and laughs then breaks the paper in half and throws it away "You think this is a joke? We don't give a shit about his money we're losing time" She yells at me, she looks furious.

I would usually lower my head and be a good employee but today that's not the case. "Don't you see? This is useful for the case knowing about his wealth we can get an idea of what he's doing find his credit history and see what business he's involved in" I yell back at her and she looks surprised "At least I'm getting things done you along with the rest of the FBI have been trying for too long to reach him but you failed you should be thankful I was able to get this close"

She's about to leave but turns back to look at me "Show me what you recorded"

Fuck not again.

"I wasn't able to get much" I get the earrings and I connect them to her laptop.

She tenses when she sees his face. In the short video I was able to get there he was it only showed when he gave me the flowers and the diamond earrings and before the video ends it shows how he took off my detective earrings.

"Flowers and diamond rings? You had a date with him right after you guys had sex? Seriously? Isn't supposed to be date and then sex" She says with saltiness in her voice.

"Listen, I'm aware that you're my superior and I should show you some respect but if you want that I want respect back if I had or didn't have sex with him that is the point of the investigation get close gain his trust so I don't know what you're getting so mad for but if you're really itching to know no, I didn't have sex with San"

"San? So you’re that close now" She nods and laughs sarcastically "Sure whatever you say I'll be back in a couple of days" She gets up to finally leave and I couldn't be happier about it "And y/n next time make sure to write something actually useful"

I sit on the couch for a moment, letting out a big sigh of frustration and anger why was she so mad about all of this? from the beginning she knew this wasn't going to be easy. My head hurts because all of this and I just lay back on the couch. I stare at the ceiling for too long my mind completely blank the last words she said definitely hit a nerve make sure to write something actually useful it remind me of stuff from my childhood and I get mad again can't she see I'm trying my best?.

I get up again to the kitchen to finally eat something and see if that can stop my headache but my phone starts ringing. It's an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hi is this y/n?" Says a woman but there's a little bit of noise and I can't recognise her voice.

"Yeah it's me who is this?"

"Hi it's Lucy the tall girl from the bar I'm sorry if I catch you in a bad time but our boss isn't gonna be around for a few days and whenever he isn't around I'm in charge I was wondering if you could come to the bar earlier and help me with some stuff"

I think about it for a moment and I don't really want to go to that bar ever again but it's not like I have any other choice "Sure at what time do you want me there?"

"Around 4pm or earlier if you can, I hate being in charge here so if you can come earlier I'll really appreciate it"

"Okay I'll be there"

"Thank you new girl" She says and I end the call.

This is just fucking perfect the last time I was there, my confidence was left on the floor, I hated the way I had been treated. But I also wonder why the boss isn't gonna be around? He must be sick I guess.

I wonder if San is gonna be there tonight but that I remember he only goes there only once or twice per week so he might not be there tonight.

I take a shower and after that I finally eat something, but there's not much left to eat for the next week and there wasn't much food to begin with so I'm obligated to leave and get the groceries. I put on a hoodie some old jeans and I leave.

There's not many people in this neighbourhood it's nothing like my old one in my old building there was always noise always if it wasn't a couple fighting it was babies crying or if it wasn't that it was the same couple having loud sex in plain daylight. This neighbourhood it's nothing like that I've been walking and so far I've only seen one old lady taking out her trash.

"What are you doing outside gorgeous" Says a man but I don't even bother to turn around and I just keep walking. "Can't you see it's dangerous to be alone a girl with an ass like yours isn't safe anywhere" I feel disgusted and I just rush my steps. "Stop ignoring me dirty slut I've been observing you the other day you left with a short dress that made me so hard are you a whore beautiful? Because I'll gladly pay for your services"

I stop walking and I turn around to face him "Leave me alone or I'll scream"

"That won't do much honey have you seen this place? it's empty as fuck even if you scream for help nobody is gonna come and save you" He tries to get closer to me but I take a step back. "Come on gorgeous I just want a little taste of that pussy of yours you're a whore you want it too you're probably getting wet right now"

I've had enough of this man this time I'm the one that gets closer to him he probably thinks he got me, as soon as he lowers his guard I punch him in the face. He holds his nose and sees the blood in his hand and looks shocked "What did you call me? A whore? I'll show you what a whore can do then" I punch him again.

The man looks pissed but he doesn't stay for too long and runs away. He messed up with a good trained detective after all.

I finally get to the convenience store and get enough stuff for the next week.

"Your total would be" The cashier looks down at my hand "Are you okay!?" I get confused to what he means and I look at my hand and it's turning green and purple and there's some of my own blood I don't remember punching that man that much?.

"I'm okay thank you" I pay and I don't even bother to get my change I get out of there.

I hurry and I run as fast as I can to be safe, if that man appears again with this hand I won't be able to do much to defend myself. I get there and I close the door behind me completely breathless for running so much. I walk to the bathroom to wash and disinfect my hand, with eyes closed and itching pain I put a bandage on my hand. I've hit people before and my hand has never ended like this did I… punch him more than I remember?

I stay in the kitchen trying to rewind the tape but I only remember punching him twice and then he just ran away… But the blood on his face and my hand doesn't match up with my memories.

I glance at the clock 2pm I should start getting ready to head to the bar. I do my make up first a not so heavy smokey eye and red lipstick. I wear a short backless long sleeved black dress I'm gonna be cold at night but the other dresses are just as short and skin revealing as this one so there's no big difference. I eat something quickly before leaving and I just close the door.

With not so much enthusiasm I drive to the bar and I drive as slow as possible I don't want to be there and I don't want to be there this early. My hand still hurts I move the bandage a little and my hand still has a purple greenish color I knew it wasn't going to heal right away but I was hoping for a miracle because it's definitely going to draw attention.

I get there and in my head I definitely had thought that Lucy had called all the girls to help her too but we're all alone and as soon as she spots me Lucy gets so happy.

"y/n thank God you're here I was hoping to see you even earlier but it's okay, we're opening in a few hours and we need to get this place ready"

"You mean like clean and other stuff?" She nods "What happened to everyone doesn't this place already have another employees to get it ready?"

"Yes but I'm a woman and whenever I'm in charge not a single male employee does what I order they only listen to our boss and if he isn't around here they don't even bother to show up till it's time to open"

"Seriously? They sound pathetic" Lucy looks really stressed.

"I know right that's why I called you the other girls usually sleep all day to work all night so I got really glad we you picked up your phone I'll do most of the work inside but if you could wait outside for a delivery"

"Lucy, it's okay just breath for a moment" I hold her shoulders and she takes a deep breath "and relax we can do all the work on our own don't worry"

"Thank you y/n if you ever wanna go shopping or something, give me a call it'll be my treat"

I go outside as she asks me to but she didn't even mention what am I supposed to receive but I didn't want to give her more trouble.

I wait for a long time but there's no sign of any delivery the worst part is that it's a little bit cloudy it might rain in a few hours and I'm starting to get cold.

I sit on the edge of the sidewalk when I see a big truck parking next to the bar. Is that it? A man starts walking towards me and that confirms it.

"We got your boxes of Tequila Ley .925, Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac Grande Champagne, Diva Vodka, Dalmore 62 that's a special one I've heard it's good ma'am and the last one is Penfold Ampoule just sign here please" Those are brand names? Even the names sound ridiculously expensive. I do as he says and he and another man start getting the boxes out of the truck.

"Now I know why Lucy preferred cleaning inside." I'm left with over forty boxes of expensive liquor that I'm supposed to move from the parking lot to the cellar. I take off my heels so I don't fall down the stairs and break the bottles and my ankles. This is definitely more tough that it looks like I keep going up and down till there's no more boxes on the parking lot I'm left exhausted with trembling legs and arms and I already want to go and take a long nap.

I lay on one of the red velvet sofas and Lucy sits in front of me

"Why you didn't call me to help you?" She was already so stressed and I didn't want to be a burden but I don't say anything "Our boss never makes such big orders unless a big event is coming I didn't know you'll be left with so many boxes and I also didn't see your injured hand I'm sorry" She sounds sincere and I just give her a smile.

"Don't worry about it I needed some exercise"

"But we can't stay here we're actually late to open so I need you to get up"

"What time is it? Did I already take that long?"

"It's 7pm we were supposed to open an hour ago but It's not your fault it was actually mine I took to long washing all the wine glasses"

She gets to the door and removes the lock and I just want the sofa to absorb me or something. It doesn't take too long for the other employees and the rest of the girls to finally get here and after around 30 min this place looks exactly like the first time I saw it. Men everywhere drinking and playing either darts or billiards.

I look around to find Lucy and she's already talking with a man.

So far I'm thankful nobody has asked me to have sex the only men who have approached me was just to flirt, invite me a drink and play billiards even if it was just so they could see my butt it's better than have sex with nasty drunk men.

I leave to the bathroom to get some air and stay away from the noise for a few minutes my knuckles hurt more than they did earlier. Carrying boxes all afternoon was obviously a terrible idea.

I go back and I see a familiar face it's San's friend Wooyoung and another man I don't know I try to avoid him seeing me but it's too late when I hear him calling me.

"You're the girl from the other night aren't you? What was your name" He closes his eyes "y/n! Right!" Shouts Wooyoung and I get closer so he doesn't have to be so loud.

"She's y/n? now I understand" Says the man next to Wooyoung even if they're sitting I can tell he is taller than him.

"Mingi don't be annoying" He tries not to laugh it looks like they're already drunk "By the way we couldn't convince San to come tonight but let me give him a quick call and let him know you're here"

"No no you don't have to" I try to stop him but he already has his phone out.

"San guess who's here she wants to see you" He laughs again he is definitely drunk but not a bad type of drunk. "He hung up on me I can't believe this bastard but don't worry y/n he's probably on his way"

A girl walks past Wooyoung and he forgets about my existence I think it's the same girl he was with last time but I can't remember her name. I look around and the other tall man Mingi left too.

Men keep inviting me drinks I definitely feel uncomfortable but again I rather this than sex. And I also start feeling a little dizzy.

"I can't believe San started liking another girl" I hear a deep voice that startles me I turn around to face him and it's Mingi. "After all he went through I thought this whole women thing was over for him but…"

One of the girls approaches me interrupting Mingi "A man paid for you he is waiting in the golden VIP room and please hurry we can't afford losing a client tonight" I look at Mingi and makes a gesture that indicates that it's okay.

I celebrated too early men not paying for me I jinxed it completely what am I gonna do? I don't want to do this. I walk through the green neoned hallway and I slowly open the door of the golden VIP room.

"I heard you wanted to see me"

A sigh of relief leaves my mouth when I see San. He looks so good he's wearing a black coat that makes him look so mysterious and elegant.

"Actually that was your friend Wooyoung" I say resting my back against the door.

"That's what I thought princess but I couldn't pass the opportunity to see you"

"Mr Choi San I don't know if you remember but the other night I got instructions to treat you like a God.”

He gets closer to me and the smell of whiskey fills the air. He wraps me with his arms and lifts me up I wrap my legs around his waist but he just looks at me with lust in his eyes I take the initiative and kiss him softly. And that feeling appears again it's unknown yet familiar and exciting. I remember where we are and if we're gonna do it I don't want it to be here.

"San let's go to another place." I say and San nods but before opening the door he pulls down my dress as it was before. He holds my non-injured hand and guides me outside where the rain takes us by surprise and we hurry to his car.

"Do you want to go to your house or my house" He asks and I smirk at him getting closer.

"Truth is I can't wait any longer" That's the alcohol talking for me. Those are enough words for San. We jump to the back seat and I sit on his lap he probably sees the desperation in my eyes because he tilts my chin up and kisses me. It’s rough but slow, he has his hands around my hips and I start teasing him grinding against his bulge.

"Princess…" He moans and that sounds so good.

It was obvious that both of us were drunk but none of that mattered right now. I desired him and he desired me. He switched positions resting my back on the seat, now he was on top. He takes off his coat he has a white shirt and black suspenders but my hands are faster than his and I unbutton his shirt revealing his abbs. I leave a trail of kisses first his lips and then his neck then his chest going lower and lower till I reach his pants I glance at him one last time he has his hands on my head caressing my hair. Without hesitation I unbuckle his belt and bring down his pants along with his boxers revealing how hard he is I kiss just the tip and he throws his head back I can feel how desperate he's getting.

"San you want me to keep going?" I whisper and he just nods. "What do you want me to do?"

"Princess please keep going I'm begging you" He sounds so desperate but I do as he says and I take it all at once. He moans aggressively and that makes me so wet, I can feel his legs twitching. He starts pushing my head and playing with my hair I go slow to tease him "You feel so good around me princess don't stop" I start going faster and faster I couldn’t get enough of him he felt so good. "Oh fuck" He groans and looks at me with a smile and kisses me right away. I couldn't believe all of this but I didn't want to stop either. He takes off my dress and I feel so exposed that I start blushing "You're beautiful princess" He's on top of me again I feel like my heart is gonna jump out of me anytime now. He kisses me roughly but there's tenderness in the way he does it. His hands go from my neck to my chest I feel like crying I'm desperate I want him inside of me.

"San please"

"I like that, keep doing that say my name princess" I feel the tip in my entrance God I can't do this anymore I want him inside of me now.

"San please fuck me" I wanted him in me, all at once I didn't care. His weight on top of me felt nice I wanted him even closer even deeper. "Hush" he said, and he kissed my eyelids, then my lips. His strong and gentle hands began to stroke me, his hands, his lips, his tongue this felt like heaven. He pushed further inside of me gentle. Knowing what he was doing. I felt my nipples rise, and it startled me, I felt like I was going to break in half. But it was worth it. He moved his hips faster and I was a moaning mess. I looked directly into his eyes and he held down both of my hands while leaving soft kisses on my lips. He was rhythmic, gentle, moving down my body.

San was making me feel yet another unknown feeling it felt strange and new but it felt extremely good. I throw my head back and let out one last moan there was a sharp brief pain It felt like a big explosion inside of me and then a sweet spasm went through me, no more pain just San's sweetness and tenderness.

[pbandjesse]

So I thought I had an interview today. But it was not an interview at all! Because the woman from the Y kept referring to me as the new lead teacher at this site. So...Not an interview! I have the job and I start on monday! 

I am slightly conflicted but Ill get to that later. 

I slept pretty well. I woke up at 8 like I am supposed to. But I wanted so much to go back to sleep.  My navel piercing tore a little again and I had to take the jewelry out. Its very annoying. I have had this piercing for almost a decade but now I am getting psoriasis on it? Really?? At least all the other parts of my skin is healing really well. Im actually shocked but also worried about what I go off the steroid. Cause in the past its just all come back as soon as I stop. But at least for now I can enjoy it. 

I did get up though. I got a shower. I bothered James. He made me a bagel. I teased him for how little cream cheese he put on it. And after chilling in the dungeon for a while I went to work on some art. 

I had to sew a little tear on the dress I wore today. And the I just got to work on some of the last frog things Im making before the store goes live. I found a bag of hair clips so I didnt need to go buy any and that was exciting. I also worked on putting holes in the backs of the lego froggies. I am waiting on the heart beads still but the frogs went well. 

The car was still not ready at noon. So James coordinated with him dad to borrow the car from him and walked to the monument to pick it up. I was nervous to drive someone elses car. James gave me some tips but I was still really scared.

I had lunch while James was gone. Cleaned up the apartment a little more. Made sure I had everything I needed. My notebook and stuff. Cleaned up my eyebrows. Was nervous!! But then James was back and I had to actually think about leaving.

 But James got me a gift! It came in the mail! Its that fragrant jewels brand that is like bath bombs and candles with rings in it. They all smell like chocolate. I am excited to see what I get. He's the sweetest boy. 

I left early. Because of course I did. I had a podcast. And it was a quick drive. Its about 20 minutes give or take. But man. It was so scary driving this car. It didnt coast like ours does, and I couldnt figure out how to put the head lights on. And I was just so nervous. But it ended up being fine but I was still scared the whole time.

I got to the place and it was nice! The neighborhood was nice. Solidly middle class. The location is next to a school. But its a Police Athletic League. And I dont know how I feel about that!! Like I firmly. Do NOT LIKE COPS. I dont want to be associated with the police. But also. The kids?? I want to help the kids. And Im not working for the cops. Im working for the Y. And the two guys who are working their are the sweetest guys. Older black men. Special education teachers. Kind and funny. So like. I have hopes. But yeah. It feels weird. 

Lana, the Y contact, was parked in front of me and I texted her I was there and once she was done her conference call we walked over to the building. 

And like I said the two men were so nice. We had a meeting and thats when I realized, oh I have this job. Because she kept referring to me as the lead teacher. Eventually I jumped in and was like. Hey BTW! This is my background and sort of gave my teaching history so that they had an idea of who I am. I will also have an aid, but she wasnt there today. I hope she's nice. 

After the meeting the guys gave me a tour. Its a small building but is also very nicely laid out. Have a few different rooms. I have some ideas for how the space Ill be in could work. And while I am mostly there as support for the kids, I will have some time to do arts projects with them. Im excited for how much freedom I have but also they dont actually have any registered kids yet so I dont know the ages besides that they have it open for 5 to 17. Ill make it work. 

After the tour we basically said see you at 8am on monday! And I was like. Awesome. And headed out.

I didnt exactly know where I was. But I also didnt want to be driving around a bunch in Tucker's car. But also I wanted wawa so I googled the closest one and headed there. I was starving. 

The wawa was actually really busy. It was hard to socially distance but I think most people tried their best. I got my sandwich and ate in the car. And then headed to drop off the car with Tucker. 

I had trouble parking but eventually I figured it out. I dont parallel park well on a good day but I did alright. And dropped off the keys with Tucker just minutes before the monument closed. So I made it! It was nice to see him. He won the raffle for tickets to the raven's game on sunday. I tisked at him but they are doing like a wild amount of distancing. So I hope its fine even if we arent happy about it. 

I walked home. And honestly it was a long walk but I had a nice time. The weather was good. I had a drink. I had a podcast. It was a good time. A man asked for a quarter and I had exactly that.  And it was just a good time. 

I got home and was in a good mood. I have been having a good night. Enjoying photographing more art. Making so many drafts on instagram in prep for the store opening on sunday. I have just been having a nice night. 

But I am tired. I think I am going to take a bath and use my new bath bomb and maybe the ring will come out?? I am looking forward to the surprise. 

I hope tomorrow is another good day. Sleep well everyone. Take care of yourselves. 

[witcherarcanathings]

Laces - Valerius x Female MC Lemon NSFW Under the Cut

Valerius x Female MC. JulianxMCxAsra implied. 3600 words. Smut under the cut if you want to skip to the good stuff.

You enter the palace conference room, preparing yourself for a court meeting with a diplomat from a neighboring kingdom. Everyone, Friends and Courtiers, already present and spread out amongst the room socializing until the Countess is ready to begin. 

You were wearing black satin pants with side lacing crisscrossing through silver fasteners. The black strings were tied in bows at the top of your thighs. A rose red blouse that exposed your shoulders underneath a black waist cincher that matched the pants completed the look. Not your usual style, but the looks you receive as you entered the room told you it was the right choice. 

Julian looked in absolute ecstasy as you approached him, Asra, and Portia, who gave you a thumbs up. You two had picked it out last weekend at the market.

“Y-you look… I mean...Is it satin. It looks good. I mean you look good. NO! I meant…” Julian flustered his pale skin turning crimson.

“What he means to say is you look beautiful this morning,” Asra said kissing your cheek,”And every morning.”

Portia clasped her hands together in joy.“Ooh! MC I told you! You look good girl! Just look at Ilya’s face. He’s as red as a tomato!” Portia teased.

“Shutup Pasha, I am not!” he retorted. Ilya smoothed his hair, trying to regain his composure. “But um, yes. You do look nice.”

“Nice? Not beautiful, stunning, the most amazing woman you’ve ever seen?” you teased.

Julian smiled, and struck a dramatic pose. “Oh curses upon me! I have offended our exceptional lady. Forgive me, my lady. You are in no doubt the most radiant, striking, voluptuous creature to have ever walked the earth. A pox upon me for my incompetence!”

 “You are forgiven dear doctor,” you replied dramatically, holding out your hand. 

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, wiggling his eyebrows. The four of you burst into a fit of laughter, then slid back into your normal morning conversation.

Suddenly you get the feeling that someone is watching you.

Valerius stood at the end of the table, eyeing you from his wine glass. You smile at him in greeting, and he motions for you to come forward. You sigh, having to leave your friends for what no doubt will be a less than pleasant conversation with the Consul. “I’ll talk to you later guys,” you say, as Asra grabs your hand and kisses you as you walk away. 

Taking a few steps, Valerius greets you sighing, “ Good Morning, Magician.”

“Good morning, Counsul Valerius. Is there something you needed?” you asked, hoping to make this as quick as possible.

“Perhaps,” he said as you felt his gaze raking over you. “I must say your outfit is very...interesting.”

Oh gosh, you exhaled, here we go again. It’s too early for this shit.

You put on a polite smile, “How kind of you to think so, Valerius. If there was nothing else-”

“I meant it in earnest. Black is very becoming on you, a total improvement from what you wore at the last meeting. I congratulate you.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be insulted, so you thanked him and took a seat at the center of the table. It was almost time to begin and you wanted to be ready to take notes.

When Nadia entered, everyone began taking seats. To your dismay,Julian and Asra began arguing about who’s turn it was to sit next to you. 

“Ilya you’re being unreasonable. You sat next to her at the last meeting, remember?” Asra grimamaced

“Yes, but yesterday was your turn for date night. And today it’s mine.” Ilya countered.

“This isn’t a date, Julian. We’re at work, and I was here first. To the chair, and in the relationship.” Asra replied smugly.

“That has nothing to do with it!” Julian shrieked. 

“Boys!” Nadia snapped, “Take a seat. Now.”

Julian and Asra glared at each other in silence, neither one backing down.

Before you can solve the problem by announcing that they could sit on either side of you, you felt movement next to you and turned to find the source. Odd. Valerius had taken the seat to your right. Usually he sat to Nadia's right at the head of the table. 

Your chin dropped to your chest. Placing a hand on your forehead, you sighed. Now you had to choose, before Nadia threw both of them out.

“Now, look what you’ve done Ilya. You’ve given her a headache,” Asra hissed. 

“You Both Are giving me a headache,” Nadia Fumed. “Find a seat now, Or I will find one for you out the door.” she pointed.

“MC who do you want to sit next to?” Julian looked at her pleadingly.

You sigh. This was going to take a lot of diplomacy. Normally the three of you got along very well, inside and outside the bedroom. But sometimes, there were incidents like this one that, while flattering, came in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“Julian sit next to Nadia,” you ordered.

Asra smiled triumphantly, thinking he won.

“Portia switch places with Asra would you, I don’t want them bickering all day.” You say deflating Asra’s pride.

“Oh yes, I’d gladly sit next to M’Lady.” Portia said beaming, sitting to the countess’ right along with Julain, Asra, both unhappy. You were glad there were a few noblemen between them, or they’d be kicking each other under the table all morning.

To the countess’s left would be the Nevivon diplomat, the President of the Merchant’s Guild ( a tall woman with blazing red hair, sunkissed skin, and so much gold jewelry  you thought you’d be blinded), The president of the Dock Workers Union, the Harbor Master, You, and Valerius.

You were still confused at why he was at this end of the table instead of closer to the Diplomat. Maybe Nadia had requested it, perhaps he had offended her in some way. It just felt strange being so close to him.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s all compose ourselves before we welcome our Guest,” Nadia motioned for the servants to open the doors.

A pepper haired man walked in, tall and with a good build. His fine turquoise and white silks swayed as he greeted Nadia, kissing her hand, and taking his seat to her left. Today’s meeting would be about trade. Nevivon wished access to Vesuvia’s fishing grounds, as well as increased sea trade, in exchange for lowering tariffs on Vesuvian exports. You didn’t know what you were doing here. You knew a little about trade as a shopkeep, but not on an international scale. But as a member of the court, it was your duty to be here. Besides you got to learn so much at the palace.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NSFW. Public Sex/Clitoral stimulation/fingering

As the talks begin, you notice Valerius is still eyeing you occasionally, even when he is addressing the diplomat, or Nadia, or anyone else.

You smile uncomfortably, and shift in your seat.

“I take back what I said to you earlier magician,” he whispers.

“What?” you ask incredulously. You’ve never known the Consul to apologize for anything.

“I take it back. It’s more than an improvement. You’re absolutely breathtaking.” he purred, leaning into you as if to impart some critical information.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks before saying, “thank you” and snapping your head back towards the diplomat, still reading Nevivon’s proposal. Why did they have to use so many words to say something so simple? Give us your fish, and We’ll lower the tariffs on the goods you export. End of Story.

 You feel a hand sweep across your thigh, and for a moment you think it’s Asra playing games with you again. But no. You look up to see he and Julian have found a new way to continue their argument. You watch him sneer, as he reads the note Julian passed him, and prepares to write a scathing reply. Hopefully you’d be able to work it out later.

But where did the touch come from?Asra’s too busy passing notes at the table with Julian to have done it.

You look to your right, finding yourself face to face with Valerius, as he ghosts his left hand over your thigh. You give him a confused look. WTF was he doing???

“Silk?” He asks innocently.

“Satin.” You retort,”As if you didn’t know that.”

“I did.” He said taking a sip of wine. “May I?”

“You didn’t ask before-”

“I’m asking now.” he purred.

Why the hell not? “Fine.” you respond, wishing he’d hurry up and deliver the punchline to whatever joke he was planning at your expense.

His hand moves across your right leg, feeling the material. Despite your feelings to the contrary, you tell yourself his actions are completely innocent.

Its when he pulls teasingly at the string, you realize it’s not. 

“Will this come apart if I pull it?” he baited, twirling the string around his long fingers.

“I-I don’t… It’s not supposed to…” You say flustered, brain frozen, still processing what was happening.

“Let’s find out.” he said pulling the string, exposing the bulge of your thigh. 

“Pretty,” he murmured into his wine glass, taking a sip as he slides his fingers across the outside of your thighs admiring your skin, 

"I didn't know your skin was so soft. How pretty it must look bruised and raw with kisses..." he mused, pinching gently.

You're sitting there frozen. You have no words. Snobby, spiteful, higher-than-thou Valerius literally just undid your pants and started feeling you up. In the middle of trade talks, with everyone still in the room. 

With Asra and Julian just across from you. Asra and Julian who were completely oblivious to the situation, too busy fighting with each other. From across the table you could make out Julian’s scrawled “FuCk YoU, ASRA!” to which Asra replied, “ Not even if you begged,” And you knew that that was exactly what was going to happen later.

Which left you alone, with Valerius feeling your thigh under the table. Honestly you should have stopped Valerius right there. It’s not that you weren’t curious, it’s that you weren’t sure what he was up to. And you weren’t sure how Julian and Asra would feel. You three hadn’t exactly laid out the terms of your relationship.

And what did Valerius think he was doing? You didn't even know your pants opened that way, you thought the laces were just for style. But he knew. He’d probably been thinking about it when he was eyeing you earlier. 

Even now, Valerius caressed your thigh as he gave his responses during the trade talks. betraying nothing on his face as he leaned toward you, following your gaze towards your lovers. “Look at them, so neglectful. So busy arguing, they can’t even see how needy you’ve become,” he teased squeezing your thigh, still looking into your eyes. “They don’t deserve to touch you. There are so many things I could do to you. So many ways I could touch you…”

If it wasn't for the glaring blush that enflamed your face, people might just think he was informing you about court business.  

Looking down from the table, Nadia gives you a concerned look and asks if you are unwell, you look a bit flushed.

You try to stand to tell her yes you are unwell, that you’d like to excuse yourself and go to your quarters.  Anything to excuse yourself, so you could figure this out. But Valerius tightens his grip on your thigh, clamping you to your seat like a vise.  

"Don't even think of leaving. I'm enjoying this too much, and so are you," Valeius teased. Heat rushed to your core, and you knew you were done for. You wanted this just as much as he did. 

"Y-yes. I'm fine,” You lie as Asra and Julian take a break from their war to look up at you with concern.  “It's just a bit stuffy in here, I'm a little overheated." That last bit caused Valerius to smirk into his wine glass, taking a sip as he continues exploring the skin of your thigh.  

"Tsk. I knew it," Nadia tutted, giving you a heart attack. You were sure she found out about Valerius' hand up your pants. 

"Portia didn't I say it was too hot in here? I should have let out the windows earlier, no matter, It shall be remedied." Nadia waved to some servants, ordering the windows to be opened, fans brought in, and iced water for everyone. With that done, Julian and Asra, and everyone else looked away from you, to your relief.

"Good, Pet." Valerius cooed opening the laces a little more so he could reach your inner thigh. You grabbed his hand, purely out of modesty. 

"What's wrong? We can stop if you like..." He says thumbing circles into your inner thigh. 

"No... I don't think we should- ” You whimper a little too loudly. 

"Shhh pet, quieter. They'll hear you" He hissed as a few of the courtiers eyes glanced back and looked away quickly as Valerius looked at them cooly. You apologized quickly and the meeting continued as normal, diplomats discussing trade agreements while Valerius listened and nodded,adding his bit when he needed to to make it look like he was interested. all the while working your inner thigh, squeezing the plump skin there. 

"You're even softer there kitten, how I would love to sink my teeth right here," he said pushing his finger into the squish high inside your  thigh, "I'd leave little bites and kisses, marking up your pretty thighs. Just so you'd know you were mine.” 

 You could feel the desire now, his last words making the heat building between your legs unbearable. You ground your hips down into the cushion of the chair, trying to relieve some of the pressure. 

"oh you'd like that, would you? My face between those pillowy thighs, marking you? Or would you like me a bit lower..." He said sliding his hand deeper, his forefinger tracing a line against your clothed sex. You bit your lip, stifling a moan.

“Open your legs,” Valerius said so only you could hear, “ I want to see how wet you are for me.”

You were soaking. You just hoped that nothing showed through the fabric, as Valerius traced a line from your clit down to your hole before pulling his hand away, feeling your juices between his fingers.

He tutted, “ All this from a few words, and light touches.” he slid his hand back to your core “So needy, so sensitive. The doctor and his magician really have been remiss." He said circling your clit through your smalls. 

"Please, Valerius. Don't I'll come." you begged so so quietly.

Valerius gave you a look of indifference as he took another sip of wine with his right hand, the left deftly pushing aside the fabric standing between you and his ministrations,caressing your folds. 

"If you're going to  come, be quiet about it, or I'll stop right now,” he warned, his eyes narrowing. 

“I don't want this deal to fall through because you let everyone know what a needy little witch you are." He said pulling away. You nearly sobbed from the loss of contact.  

You nodded slowly. "I'll be quiet. Please, Valerius." 

"Good." he said, draining his glass. “And keep those lusty eyes on me. If I catch you looking at that Hack of a doctor or that bum Magician, you can forget about cumming at all. Understand?”

“Yes,” you plead. Anything.

He slid his hand back through the laces, continuing where he left off.

His fingers were so good, his movements so practiced.

Y-yes… Keep doing that baby…fuck me with your fingers, you  wanted to scream.

When you started grinding into his hand he pulled away a little "not too much love. Slowly. Or they'll know. Not that I mind you telling everyone how much you want me. You do want me don’t you pet?”

You slowed your hips, and Valerius pushed his finger inside your first hole. It took all your strength not to keen at the sensation as he fingered you with languid movements. In...and Out. In...and out. As if he had all the time in the world to make you come. As if you weren’t burning with need. Not missing a beat when he was asked this or that about the trade agreements. 

Despite what was going on under the table he listened intently,pushing for an addition here, for changes to this clause or that, dictating when he needed to. 

Occasionally he would lean in and whisper "you're doing so well, pet. I love it when you’re so good for me." 

You were close. So achingly close. Valerius had no idea how much you wanted to scream at the Nevivon diplomat to accept Nadia's terms and leave. Or to Slap valerius for having to argue some insignificant point, just to draw out your torture. 

He knew you were close, knew that you wanted to come. "The details matter, pet.” He teased, “I can't let the city suffer just because you want to come." 

You cursed under your breath. 

Valerius pulled away, nearly causing you to falter and let a whine escape your lips, biting them hard. 

"Careful pet, or I'll end this sooner that you like." He mocked. 

Noooooo...You looked at him pleadingly. 

"I'm glad we understand each other," Valerius answered to the diplomat, while looking you straight in the eye before turning away to finish business. 

You were close, so achingly close. Just a few more strokes from his skilled fingers and you would be there. You snaked your hand down from the table to touch your clit, chasing your climax. 

Before you could finish, Val leaned back to you and demanded ever so softly, "Hands on the table where I can see them. Keep them there." 

You closed her eyes and threw her head back in exasperation. You swore you were going to cry if he didn’t make you come soon. 

Valerius chuckled, pleased at your desperation. "It seems the magician and I are in agreement. Raising tariffs against Vesuvian goods would be detrimental for both sides, and would lead to renegotiations or an overall ban on goods from your kingdom. The Countess will be most displeased." Valerius scoffed, smoothly playing off your movements. 

"I think it's ridiculous that you even considered coming to my table with that nonsense." Nadia retorted.

The Nevivon diplomat panicked. "Apologies Countess. We hadn't intended to offend your grace. We withdraw our request, in favor of the Consuls suggestion. Tariffs lowered in exchange for  guaranteed protection of sea trade by vesuvian navy ships." 

"Agreed," Nadia assented. 

At this point you didn’t give a flip. Valerius was still working your entrance, the knuckle of his thumb rubbing against your clit. Please, I Need more, just a little more. You would beg him if you could.

"I should do this more often," Val cooed. " I could've used your assistance with that fool from Pranka." He was close enough you could smell the wine on his breath. Sweet and enticing. You wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips. Val caught your gaze, as you licked your lips. 

"Don’t worry you’ll taste these lips soon enough. I plan on kissing every inch you once I’ve gotten what I need from this fool.” Valerius whispered, adding another finger. 

 Ooohhh God...so good...your body cried, as you clenched around him.

“So tight... I can’t wait to feel you clench around my cock instead of my fingers. For now, this will have to be enough.”

He picked up his pace, as you gripped the arms of the chair, to keep from trembling. Thank god the whir of the fans kept anyone from hearing your heavy breathing, and the squish of Valerius’ fingers inside your soaking cunt.

“Remember to keep those pretty sounds to yourself for now. I'll make you sing for me when we're alone." 

You nodded, you didn't trust yourself to make words without a moan slipping out. God you wished you were alone now. Head down, ass up as Valerius railed you. If his fingers were this good, you couldn’t help imagining all the other things he could make you beg for.

It seemed like an eternity had gone by before you heard Valerius’ voice again, so close you could feel his breath on your neck,

"Come for me, Sweetling," he cooed into your neck.

You came right then and there, stars forming at the back of your eyes as you crashed. Hands fisting as Valerius continued to finger you through the waves. 

When you relaxed, Valerius removed his hand, leaving a trail of your juices on your thigh. He brought his fingers to his lips, and sucked them as if tasting the sweetest of wines. 

“Your pussy tastes so sweet,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to eat you out. For being such a good pet, I think I’ll make you come until you pass out.”

A bolt of desire shot through you. You still wanted him, pussy still clenching from your last orgasm.

You had soaked through her clothing. You’d have to change before Asra or Julian noticed. If they noticed. From the looks of them they had made up, and eager to ‘resolve’ their fight at home. They’d be fine without her.

"Don't even think about changing out of those pants.” he ordered, seemingly reading your thoughts. “I want you to think about what a mess you've made for me."

As your brain started to function somewhat, you realized the meeting was close to coming to a close. From what you picked up it seems things had gone well for both sides. As Nadia shook hands with the Nevivon envoy, the council got up to leave. 

You and Valerius got up at the same time, and before you could walk away he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer.

“I don’t want anything getting in my way, later. Make your excuses to your lovers if you have to, but you’ll be in my bed tonight,” he said as he restrung the laces.

[deaky-disco-queen]

Johnica Week Day 1

A/N: Not really meant as a contribution for Johnica Week at first but this sat in my drafts for so long and this is probably as good as this gets so I decided why not posting it? Can be kind of seen as if written for the prompt First Sight but maybe that’s bending things. 

+++

Veronica was eleven when she had her first boyfriend. Leonard was the most popular boy in class because he was taller than the other boys and had a nice bike and when he had asked if she wanted to sit together at lunch Veronica had said yes because Leonard was nice. According to anyone else it meant they were now dating. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Leonard. Leonard was nice. She just didn’t understand why they other girls were all over him. He was nice but he just wasn’t that great. But she didn’t argue when someone said they were a couple because they did what couples did, after all. 

Leonard brought her flowers and shyly took her hand whenever he could, carried her stuff for her and complimented her outfit every day. He even shared his sweets with her. She really couldn’t complain and having a boyfriend wasn’t that bad. 

Until he kissed her, that was. 

He had asked her out to go to a church fair together. Veronica agreed because she would be there with her parents anyway and if she went with Leonard, she didn’t have to stay with them all the time, at least. Her father gave Leonard a hard stare before letting them go off, though. 

They ended up on a bench that was a little bit away from the others, both of them eating some cake and Leonard had bought her a hot chocolate. They had been talking about the book their teacher was making them read and then- in the middle of her sentence- he had leaned forward and awkwardly pressed their lips together. 

Veronica pulled back almost immediately, almost dropping her mug in the process. 

    “What’s wrong?” Leonard asked. 

She wiped her mouth hurriedly with her napkin. 

    “Why did you do that?” 

    “What do you mean? I kissed you. That’s what couples do. You’re my girlfriend and I wanted to kiss you, so I did.” 

He was right, Veronica knew. She had seen the same movies and shows as him and they did everything those couples did and they kissed so why shouldn’t they? He was a nice boy and she should want to kiss him. 

But she didn’t. She really didn’t. 

    “I didn’t like it.” she said, voice trembling.

Leonard frowned as she stood up and grabbed her arm, gently but firmly pulling her back down. Veronica bit her lip, not looking at him. 

    “People kiss, Veronica. That’s what couples do.” 

    “Maybe I don’t want to be a couple anymore.” 

She left him sitting there, not taking the rest of her chocolate with her and rushed back to the front of the church, finding her parents again and didn’t leave their sides for the rest of the afternoon. 

Of course, the other children wanted to know what happened when Leonard told them they weren’t a couple anymore. Veronica didn’t say anything and neither did he because he was nice. 

Having a boyfriend then wasn’t a problem anymore until she was sixteen, when her mother started asking about when she will bring a boy home and Veronica was at loss for an answer. She didn’t want to lie to her mother but she also didn’t want to worry her. 

A couple of weeks later, she met a boy named Greg at her church’s youth group and swallowed the lump in her throat and asked him out. 

Her mother adored Greg and even her father was quite fond of him and Veronica was relieved. 

Greg wasn’t the most interesting person but it didn’t matter because Veronica wasn’t really interesting either and he still took her to dates to the diner or on drives to the next town over to go to the movies and so on. He asked before he took her hand and when she was hesitant to kiss him, he backed up and let her take the lead. The only thing she couldn’t gloss over easily. 

He didn’t like to dance while Veronica loved dancing. 

It wasn’t only that, he even refused to go to the church-organized dances and while she did attend them alone, she didn’t dance with anyone because Greg told her he didn’t want her dancing with any other boys. She stopped going after a while. 

Putting off kissing was only an option for so long and eventually, Veronica decided to get over with it and kissed Greg and kept kissing him even though it didn’t feel good. It was nothing like in the books or movies. There were no fireworks going off, the world didn’t stop turning and her breath wasn’t stolen. It was just weird and off-putting but it was what she was supposed to do. 

It only got worse when their kissing transformed into making-out. Greg’s hands started wandering from her shoulders and even if it made her heart race in a not-so-good way and her hair stand on end, she went along with it. She even slept with him. It wasn’t great. It wasn’t even good. But she stayed with him. 

Veronica only broke up with him when she left for university and it was as if a weight was lifted from her chest. 

In London, there were no parents breathing down her neck about finding a boyfriend and nobody knew her. Between attending classes and learning to be a teacher, she went to parties, bought dresses her parents wouldn’t have let her wear, made friends and didn’t worry about boyfriends. 

Veronica learned she quite liked discos. She enjoyed getting dressed up, putting on the little bit of makeup she owned, styling her hair and picking accessories to match her outfit. Her favorite was a knee-length raspberry colored dress which she wore with flats and some delicate silver jewelry. 

It took a while before she got used to the amount of people inside the clubs but she grew to enjoy it, becoming one of the crowd, just one of many. This evening wasn’t any different. She sat at the bar for a while, had a couple of drinks- not enough to get too drunk but enough to achieve a nice buzz- danced and just enjoyed the band’s music. 

Eventually, she ended up in the bathroom, dabbing off some sweat she had worked up as another girl stumbled into the room, clearly more drunk than her, giggling to herself. When she looked up and spotted Veronica, a wide smile appeared on her face. 

    “Oh, hi! I saw you in the- in the crowd today. You’re really pretty!” 

Veronica blinked, taken aback and took the girl in. She was tall- way taller than her and she also wore platform shoes- with long brown hair and was wearing high-waisted bell bottoms and a low-cut striped shirt. She smiled, loose and wide, slightly swaying from side to side. 

    “You saw me?” 

The girl nodded and pointed vaguely into the direction of the dance floor. 

    “From the stage. I’m with the band.” 

Veronica tried to remember if she spotted her on stage but couldn’t. She hadn’t really paid attention to the band itself, preoccupied with the music and dancing. 

    “I don’t-” Veronica chuckled embarrassed. “I didn’t notice you, I’m sorry.” 

The girl laughed and shook her head and passed her a paper towel to dry her hands. Veronica took it with a quiet thanks. 

    “I’m not surprised. Freddie has a big stage presence. She kind of drowns out the rest of us with her dazzling personality. I’m Johanna, by the way.”

    “Veronica.” she said, taking the extended hand. 

Johanna’s hand was callused, rough and big against hers and her grip was strong without squeezing her hand. 

    “Veronica. That’s a pretty name. Do people call you Ronnie?” 

She really hadn’t expected chatting with a girl in a club’s bathroom. Johanna seemed to be fun, though, and Veronica had a couple of similar interactions before. 

    “People usually call me Veronica.” 

    “Can I call you Ronnie?” 

Veronica chuckled and nodded. Johanna was still holding her hand and Veronica wasn’t sure when she was the right moment to let go. It was Johanna who eventually did so to brush her hair out of her face. 

    “What did I want here again?” Johanna asked suddenly and Veronica had to laugh. 

    “Use the toilet?” she suggested. 

    “No, that wasn’t it.” Johanna shrugged. “Anyways, do you want to have a drink?” 

Johanna offered her arm to her and after a second of contemplation, Veronica took the arm and let her lead her out of the bathroom and towards a booth where three other women were sitting. 

    “There you are, Deaky! And who have you brought with you?” 

Veronica was introduced to Freddie, Regina and Brianna, the rest of the band and they quickly ordered a round of shots for each of them. It didn’t stop there, though, as they kept ordering. It didn’t really take long for Veronica to be very drunk. 

    “The thing is-” Regina slurred, breaking off in laughter when Brianna missed  her mouth and spilled her drink all over herself. “The thing is that it was a perfectly fine jacket and she wanted to pay five pounds for it! Five! It was worth at least ten!” 

The table broke into giggles and Veronica pressed a hand over her mouth to not burst into laughter and Johanna was leaning onto her heavily, shaking with laughter. She didn’t get up, though, leaving her head on her shoulder while Freddie and Regina kept on telling a story about their market stall. 

They had a couple of more drinks before calling it a night. Veronica was stumbling and gripped the table for support, taking Freddie’s hand when she offered it to her and together they made their way out of the bar. 

The cold air felt wonderful on her face and Veronica took a moment to just breathe in and enjoy the breeze. 

    “Where do you need to go, darling?” Freddie asked and Veronica needed much longer than she wanted to admit to point roughly into the direction of her apartment. 

    “That’s the oppo- opposite direction of us!” Regina said, a heavy frown appearing on her face. 

The other girls murmured in agreement, all of them swaying slightly on their feet. Veronica shrugged, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. 

    “It’s not that far. I can walk.” 

Freddie tutted and pulled her closer to her side when she tried to pull her hand free, looking intently at her. 

    “You’re drunk and we won’t let you walk home like this. You can sleep at our place.”  

She considered it for a moment, then nodded. It was probably the most sensible thing to do. She didn’t really want to walk home this late anyway. 

Johanna came up on her other side, linking their arms together and threw her a wide, drunken grin before pulling both her and Freddie along with her. Regina and Freddie were chatting loudly and everyone was giggling and laughing. 

Veronica didn’t know how long they had been walking, too distracted by being squeezed between two girls. Freddie let go of her to rummage through her bag for something- keys, she assumed- and pushed past Brianna and Regina to unlock the door. It took a while until the made their way up the stairs but eventually they did. 

She wasn’t sure how but eventually, she was laying on a very comfy sofa, dressed in clothes somebody borrowed her with several blankets and pillows Freddie kept giving her. She thanked the woman who immediately waved it off and kissed her cheek before disappearing into her room which she seemed to share with Regina because the blonde was trailing after her, stumbling a couple of times. 

    “Thanks for partying with us tonight, ‘t was fun.” Johanna said, grinning lopsided. 

Veronica grinned back at her, already laying down and tightly wrapped into some blankets. Johanna crouched down in front of her and gently tucked the edge of one of them under her and she felt a blush rising on her cheeks. Nobody besides her mother had ever tucked her in like that and she should probably feel irritated or anything like that about being treated like a child but it was actually nice. 

    “I had fun, too.” She admitted quietly. 

    “I’m glad. Sleep well.” 

Johanna squeezed her shoulder before standing up, swaying on her feet for a moment before she found her balance again. She shot her another grin and then walked down the hallway. She stopped in the threshold and turned halfway back to her, pointing towards the kitchenette. 

    “There are painkillers in there. If you need them in the morning. Toilet is down the hall, last door on the right.” 

    “Thank you.” 

    “No problem. Good night, Ronnie.” 

+++

Veronica woke slowly but immediately regretted it. Her head was pounding and her mouth tasted like stale alcohol. She squeezed her eyes shut and slowly, very slowly turned around to bury her face in the pillows, desperate to block out the light hitting her. 

    “Good morning!” Somebody crooned way too enthusiastically. 

She only groaned loudly, the sound muffled by the pillow. Whoever was awake laughed then, soft and obviously trying not to be too loud as if taking her hangover in consideration. For a while, she was just breathing, willing her stomach to calm down and then she very slowly pushed herself up. 

The room wasn’t very bright- only one of the windows had its curtain not drawn- but she still had to blink several times, rubbing her eyes. Johanna was sitting at the small table, drinking something and looking way too put together for the fact that they came home after four in the morning. 

Veronica got up slowly, her stomach rolling and she let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine. Johanna’s face turned into something a little softer and she got up rummaging through the cabinets while she sat down heavily on one of the other chairs. She buried her face in her hands and groaned again, only just resisting the urge to just collapse onto the table. 

    “Here.” 

She peeked through her fingers to see Johanna putting down a glass of water and a painkiller. 

    “Thank you.” She rasped. 

    “You should probably eat something before taking them. Fancy some scrambled eggs?”

Veronica really didn’t want to eat something but Johanna was probably right so she nodded anyway. Johanna squeezed her shoulder and smiled at her, then pulled out a pan and some eggs. She watched her as she cooked. 

She had noticed yesterday already that Johanna was tall and she just realized it again. She had long legs which was especially noticeable now as she was wearing a pair of shorts. Johanna looked very different now than she did on stage. Her hair was put into an almost lazy looking ponytail. Several strands had already fallen out if it, framing her face. Yesterday, she had been wearing rather tight and a completely different style from the loose white shirt she was wearing now. 

The smell of something cooking almost made her sick but she took a couple of deep breaths and didn’t. 

Veronica ate slowly, picking on her eggs like a bird, chewing everything for too long, worried she might have to sprint for the bathroom at any moment. Johanna sat down across from her, smiling gently and flipping through the newspaper. 

    “How come you are so chipper?” Veronica asked. 

    “I’m pretty good with hangovers.” 

Somehow, she managed to get the food down without having to throw up and finally took the painkiller. Johanna brought her another glass of water and visibly held back her laughter when Veronica finally gave up trying to look like a functioning human and rested her head on the table. If her head hadn’t hurt so much she might have mustered the energy to glare at her. 

For several blessed moments it was peacefully quiet but then- Veronica wasn’t sure how much time had passed; she had closed her eyes- a loud noise startled her. Her brain needed a moment to realize what she was hearing were moans. Immediately, she felt a blush rush to her cheeks. Johanna, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. 

    “Sorry about that. Reg and Fred think the best solution to a hangover is sex.” 

Veronica’s face must have shown something- she wasn’t sure what because she was still not quite understanding what was happening- because Johanna cocked her head, a smile on her lips. 

    “If you want to I can drive you home. I can borrow Reggie’s car. She’ll won’t need it for at least another thirty minutes.” 

She wanted to ask questions but decided it wasn’t her place to do so and instead just nodded and insisted on helping in doing the dishes. Then, she changed into her dress from the evening before and followed Johanna downstairs. 

The drive back to her apartment was quiet but not in a bad way. Veronica rested her head against the window, angling her hand to the side so she could watch Johanna drive, cigarette in her hand. Occasionally, she would glance towards her and then smiled before looking back to the street. 

As they arrived at Veronica’s apartment complex they said their goodbyes and Johanna gave her a slip of paper with their number on it, quietly asking her to call if she wanted to do something together again.

[tiny-smallest]

the sun’ll come out tomorrow

Rating: G Characters: Tallest Mikyuki, Dib, Membrane Warnings: none Description: Mikyuki takes her charge on a little field trip, reflecting about her current situation along the way. On the way back, something catches the toddler’s eye…

Also on AO3!

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She really didn’t like the rain. Being the empress of an entire planet somewhat spoiled her, she’d admit. The blue eyed Irken squinted up at the sky from her seat at the window, scowling at the drops of water falling from the sky. Back at her old position as Tallest, should such an offending substance threaten her from a planet’s skies, she would have no less than a dozen Irkens at her side immediately with a number of things that could be used to ward off the downpour, and at least one would offer to atomize the planet for her.

She’d refuse, of course, but it was the offer that counted.

All right, in light of that, maybe she’s a lot spoiled. Even so, she can’t understand what anomalies this planet must produce so that acid falling from the sky would be a frequent occurrence. Or, perhaps even more unsettling, that its inhabitants—sentient and nonsentient—would be completely immune to its effects. Professor Membrane had nearly given her a heart attack the first time she’d seen it rain and he’d stepped outside into it; she was so sure based on that kitchen incident with the sink (that she would be taking to her death thank you very much) that he was going to melt. She had to admit she was jealous over his immunity to the water’s effects after she’d stopped fuming over him scaring her half to death. It didn’t look like she would be leaving this planet anytime soon. Her ship was far too wrecked; you could barely even tell it was a ship at some point. She’d be surprised she survived it, if not for the fact that she was a Tallest. Genes this good, she figured, gets one out of a lot of things.  

Apparently it even helped you survive a planet trying to punch you in the face with its gravity. Whatever. Miyuki was alive, that was the important thing. She was alive, and she had found an ally. She was forced to help him develop a smeet of his species so that she’d have an ally, but she had an ally.  

It’s better than nothing, and he was perfectly reasonable about it, and continued to be. The fact that she could and should skewer him should he become unreasonable was irrelevant and she refused to think on it anymore. Right now, she should probably be thinking more about the small creature tugging at her leg. Miyuki’s gaze turned from the wretched weather of this awful planet to the doe eyed toddler pulling on her skirt. She was silent for a moment; he was too short to see without looking up that he has successfully gotten her attention, and he had not looked up because he was too interested in the metal plating of the skirt. He poked at it with a tiny finger, scratching at it with the pitiful excuse that humans had for claws.  

It’s when he went to lick it that she cleared her throat and he, smart enough even at this stage of human development to recognize the sound for what it is, moved his eyes from the spot he’d selected for tasting to her face, tongue still out. “I am not food.” He squeaked. “If you are hungry, I will make something.” He tilted his head to the side. She sighed. “What is it that you want, Dilbert?” As an answer, he pointed to the digital clock in the cable box by the television. She raises an antenna in surprise. Membrane had said that thanks to his Irken genes Dilbert would evolve much, much faster than the average human smeet, but she had not expected a creature whose vocabulary was currently limited to “I,” “bottle,” “binkie,” and “dad” (she will ignore for the moment, as always, that the total words in his vocabulary are actually five) to be able to recognize the time, much less correlate the time with a specific event. Like the event that is supposed to be happening now but that Miyuki was entirely reluctant to do because of rain. “Dilbert, I think we will forgo our walk today.” A plaintive wail sent both antennae back. “No, it is raining. I do not like rain. It… hurts me. We will not venture out in it. Stop yelling.” The wailing continued. Blasted human smeet. Regular smeets could be irritating but at least they didn’t cry. They couldn’t. Human smeets, though, very much could and dear Irk please shut up.

Maybe agreeing to help his father make an heir was a mistake.

(Even as she thought it, something within her quailed at it.) Membrane was not here to help, Miyuki reflected with a frown. He was out for the day, at his laboratory, working on a new sort of teleportation technology that intrigued her and would very much like to pick apart sometime. Right now it was just her and the smeet. She would have to do something quickly if she wanted to keep herself from doing something she’d regret-

Wait, there was noise absent. Her eyes flicked from the crying child on the floor to the window. The patter of the rain was what had been missing for the past two minutes, and she had failed to realize it because of her focus on the much louder, much more annoying of the two sounds. Well then. The rain was gone but there would still be puddles. She scowled again, ready to reaffirm that she would not go outside today, but it turned into a grimace. 

No, she didn’t want to go outside today. But the human smeet needed sunshine and fresh air to grow properly—part of the requirements brought on by his human heritage—and now that it wasn’t actively raining, it would be prudent to give him what he needs.

Especially because it would make him shut up. “Fine, you win.” His sobs faltered and slow down some, and Miyuki shook her head, wagging a finger at him. “But only because it stopped raining. Wait here; I will go get ready.” She took swift strides to the doorway, and he followed on his clumsy little legs like the insolent creature he was. Typical. Something bubbled over in her chest and she let out a low laugh, shaking her head as she looked around the little bedroom that was hers now, so much smaller than her quarters at home. 

She, the Tallest, ruler of an entire planet, the greatest planet of the known universe, was playing smeetsitter to a hybrid that did not belong in existence, that was probably breaking about thirty Irken laws simply by being, and that could never and would never be accepted by either race should anyone learn what he truly was. All because she crash landed in the middle of universal nowhere and had no other way to return home but to suck up to the single creature on all of this backwards “Earth” planet that could help her so that he’d help her fix her ship.  

“I wonder,” she said to the toddler as she reached into her dresser for some Earthling clothing, “if someday you will also grow up to manufacture something that will try to eat me. I’ve had that experience once; I’m not…” Her throat tightened slightly  “… Keen on reliving it.”

His face remained in her head, however much it hurt that it did. Those big, eager eyes, the color of Vortian (and also, apparently, Earthen, which was just a delightful discovery) raspberries. That giant smile. Chirping voice that could turn to loud crowing at the drop of a hat. So very, pitifully small for an Irken, the smallest Irken on record; he should have died years ago when he was first hatched, or in training, but he didn’t. So enthusiastic and eager to please, so ready to prove himself, that he did everything and asked questions never.

The entire point of his job in weapons manufacturing was to keep him out of trouble, out of harm’s way. Far from a drone service, but as close to an Invader as possible. And he still found some way to screw it up, all in the name of…

“It’s for you, my Tallest! This is just a prototype, the real one will be much more deadly, much more worthy of being used by the Irken Armada! But, it, eh, felt like a waste to just throw it out, and it’s soft and squishy, and you like soft and squishy things, and it nuzzles and makes little chirpy happy noises, so I thought you’d like to keep it!”

Making her happy.

She looked over to Dilbert, now sitting on the floor, amusing himself by drawing patterns in the carpet with his little, round fingers.

He doodled when he was bored, too. 

Ugh. She had to stop torturing herself like this. Would he even be alive when she got back?

He survived this far. The brutal training, the initial activation, despite being too small… The Control Brains keep missing him entirely, even after talking with him directly…

Yes but he also has a penchant for disaster, and you’re no longer there…

Her insides squirmed. Dilbert was squirming. She shoved the thoughts from her mind and retreated into the bathroom with her things. A few minutes later she pushed the door open again, picking with distaste at the cloth and at the necklace around her throat. A simple blouse and matching skirt would ensure she blended in easily, and the jewelry added an extra touch of human normalcy, but she was still not entirely sure she liked wearing them. The clothes felt too light on her body, too loose. Still, dealing with clothing that felt oddly was much better than, say, being captured and dissected. Or being forced to flee for her life. She would put up with it.

Dilbert, mercifully still quiet, scrambled to join her at her side, taking hold of her skirt with one tiny hand. She scooped him into her arms, wincing at the human scent she still wasn’t used to, before carrying him from the room. He squirmed in her arms, cooing quietly, and didn’t resist when she set him down in his stroller. Kneeling beside him, she fastened him carefully into place and reached up to her necklace, pressing a button. 

The heat the hologram disguise generates tingled unpleasantly along her skin, but it protected her. At least in that way it was more useful than the clothes. And it was blue, too. 

She opened the front door and flinched when a blast of wind greeted her. Dilbert squinted his eyes at the sunlight peeping through the clouds, but showed no visible signs of distress, thanks to his father’s efforts to get the boy outside frequently.

She, however, was never going to get used to this ‘weather’ thing. Sure, sunny days she can manage, but wind tugged at her antennae and scattered scents! How was she supposed to get a read on her surroundings if she couldn’t pinpoint where anything was coming from? Then there was rain- rain was an abomination that doesn’t deserve to exist. Fog stung her face and whatever else wasn’t covered, and she didn’t like the sound of this ‘snow’ business. Or ‘heatwave.’  Apparently the snow thing would be coming soon, too. Ridiculous planet.

The air smelled sharp and the wind chilled her slightly. Maybe she should give up on this after all… No, no, think rationally. Did she have anything to deal with this? She did have a sweater, but she doesn’t like the feel of it- wait, yes she does! The coat! How did she forget about the coat!? It was only her favorite piece of clothing on this ball of dirt that calls itself a planet! Miyuki wheeled the child inside and, ignoring his cries of protest, left the living room to dart into her bedroom and fetch the black trench coat Membrane had purchased for occasions such as these. She grabbed the coat from the closet and pulled it on as she left the room, returning to the stroller and pushing it out the door. A quick pause to lock the door behind her. Not that she needed to with the intense amount of security, but might as well. And they were off. Finally She pulled the collar up around her mouth, using her other hand to steer the stroller around a puddle while hissing her hatred at the liquid. The sky was clearing, so more rain was highly unlikely, but even just the presence of puddles made her skin crawl. Stupid, Miyuki knows this; she was wearing boots and no water can get in. But still, who willing stepped in collections of acid even with protective gear? It took a little longer to reach the park and her steering had to get really creative occasionally, but eventually they left the sodden sidewalk behind for… soggy grass, mud, paths that are pocketed with more accursed puddles, and a playground that’s completely unusable due to how soaked it is. No, don’t shake a fist at the sky; you’ll look insane. Letting out a deep breath instead, she rolled the carriage back and forth slightly as her eyes closed, letting out a low hum. Well, the park wasn’t an option today. Was there anywhere else to take him where the little hybrid could spend at least an hour outdoors without too much water?

… Not… really.  The Irken groaned. Fine. Back they go.   Stupid Earth weather. With a huff she turns the wheels and starts pushing on the stroller. Dilbert was whining again, little arms reaching back towards the playground as he twisted in his seat, and her antennae shift back, a growl rising in her throat. If he was so smart, why couldn’t he see the water on the playground and recognize that it would be unwise to let him run about on such a slippery surface? “Be quiet,” she eventually snapped. He responded with actual tears, and her guts twisted slightly. Just great. Some children flew by on skateboards, bicycles, and scooters, nearly splashing her and the Dilbert in the process. She hissed before she could stop herself and yanked her body and the stroller back to avoid them, and just in time; one of the girls clipped the stroller with her scooter and almost fell off, having to hop off before the primitive devise could throw her from it, run awkwardly beside it, and then leap back on. Thankfully the water missed Miyuki, as the girl was going too slowly by the time she went through the puddle to spray it very far.

“Watch where you’re going, smee- CHILD!” Human vocabulary was strange and still refused to roll off the tongue with any ease. “Next time I swear I will take that toy from you and wrap it around your skinny little throat!” It’s was late; they were too far for their inferior human ears to hear her. Damn them to the deepest depths of the farthest black hole. Snarling, the Irken carefully righted the stroller, which she had pulled back in such a way that, had it not been for the straps, would have dumped its precious cargo onto the concrete. Dilbert was whimpering, little hiccups leaking out with big, fat tears. Blast it all. “Shhh, it’s alright.” Well, her tone wasn’t sharp, at least. “They are gone now, and should they return I will make them very sorry they did.” She watched as he scrubbed his knuckles into his eyes, chewing on her tongue. Perhaps if she had some candy, that might work, but she didn’t think to grab any before leaving the house. Which was a stupid move, she reflected, since the human smeet was the most accident prone person she’s known since him and candy was usually a quick fix anytime Dilbert gets a bump or scrape. Her antenna flicked. He was quiet. Why? Quickly she glanced down; he was staring at something. Blue eyes rose, and found his were locked onto a tiny black trench coat a mannequin in the shop window was dressed in. His little mouth was hanging open like he just discovered the answer to the meaning of life. “… Well then.  We’ve lingered here long enough.” Her hands returned to the stroller’s handles, and he cried out.  

“Want!” Of course he’d add another word to his vocabulary right now. It’s not like she was eager to leave or anything. Miyuki raised a hand to her face to place her fingers against her forehead, then moved them to her temple. Well, he’d seen it and he’d pitch a fit if she tried to leave without it. It’s small, right? It can’t cost too much, and I do have monies on me. It wouldn’t take long, either… “Fine. Let’s go see it.” She wheeled the carriage inside. Dilbert insisted on having that exact trench coat, and it was a hassle to convince the store clerk to take the coat off the mannequin, but Miyuki was nothing if not persuasive, and eventually she conceded and took it down for them. Then it was off to the tiny dressing room in the back, where Dilbert refused to allow her to accompany him into the room to help him into the coat. 

The toddler sure was a willful one, and Miyuki can’t help but wonder if this was a normal thing in human smeets, and if she should be proud or annoyed. She settled for a mix of both, the former somewhat begrudgingly. “Tah-dah!” She glanced up from her seat to see the tiny human-Irken hybrid in front of her more or less drowning in a coat made for someone twice his height. His eyes were closed and his smile was huge, showing off all his strange human teeth, and he had his hands on his hips, sleeves falling far past them. The sight was so weird and so amusing she couldn’t help but smile a bit. “You look stunning.” He beamed brighter. “Come, we should be leaving.” She went to remove the coat and he frowned, pulling back and hugging himself to keep the coat locked in place, making grumbling noises. She shook her head and took hold of his arm in a loose grip, carefully pulling him along with her until he moved his hand to hold hers, as she looked for the clerk. The woman allowed them to buy the trench coat—two hundred monies is ridiculous for such a tiny piece of clothing and Miyuki wished she could just steal the thing, but that would be a terrible idea—and they returned home, finally. Dilbert refused to take the coat off, and she allowed him to leave it on while she got supper together for the three of them.  

A Tallest, cooking. Really, now the universe had seen everything. Or would, if this hick planet was near anything resembling the civilized universe.

Membrane returned home, and laughed at the sight of his son, ruffling the little one’s hair. “That’s a great look for you, son!  What gave you the idea?” Neither of them expected an answer, but he surprised them. The tiny boy flashed Miyuki a giant smile and pointed to her. “Just like Mommy!” She almost dropped the plate she was carrying to the table. “… Son?” Membrane does not look nearly as shellshocked as his Irken companion; he’s merely confused. “… The coat.” Miykui’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh, he means the coat you bought for me in case of cooler weather; I’ve been wearing it a lot for the past few weeks but not the past few days… he must have remembered me wearing it frequently…” Dilbert nods. He looked so pleased with himself. “Like Mommy!” “Yes, it’s good to be like your mother.” Membrane patted his head before carefully peeling the coat off and setting the fussing boy in his high chair. “Now now, take it easy,” he cut in above Dilbert’s protests. “You can have it back when you’re all done with dinner.” They started supper. Miyuki for a few minutes stared silently at the meal. Just like Mommy. The way his face lit up when he said that… Maybe she was more ready for that other word in his vocabulary than she thought she was. Mommy. It wasn’t not such a bad word, really. The twitch of her lips went unnoticed as she began to eat.