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dcandmarvelimagines · 8 months ago

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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 2)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, Oral sex (f! recieving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, Wade breaks his nose so a bit of blood, Wade is an absolute pervert Logan is too, voyeurism, Logan puts his cigar out on his hand, Logan is also very emotionally stunted but we'll work on that Author's note: Holy shit guys?? This blew up in a way I totally didn't expect. I seriously thought this would just be something I uploaded and would get like five notes. You guys have been so sweet! Thank you so much! I hope you like this next installment. Things take a bit of a turn at the end and in the next chapter, but fear not besties, we will make it out of this and to a happy ending I swear! ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o

Early that Monday, I met with my supervisor. When I explained that I was becoming attached to Al’s roommates and it would most likely affect my working relationship, he just sighed. Apparently, Al had requested that I’m her only caretaker and said she would refuse anyone else. “So keep your head on straight around them. Don’t make me regret it.”

When I walked into the apartment later that day, I knew Wade would make me fail. He instantly wrapped me in his arms, covering my face in slobbery kisses. But I was able to keep him at arm's length while I was on the clock for Al. He was allowed one kiss when I got there and nothing else. Despite his protests, he respected my boundaries. With Wade forced to behave, it allowed me to start talking to Logan more. There was some sort of tension between us that had eased. The crease between his eyebrows whenever he saw me had slowly faded. I saw him smile more often. He was surprisingly nice to be around once I got past his gruff exterior. I kept myself an open book, answering any questions he had, but he kept his life close to his chest. I didn’t expect him to spill his guts and I accepted the little crumbs he gave me. But sometimes he was broody and quiet, keeping his responses short, a distant look in his eyes.

Nevertheless, it began to grow into something more. It started off small, little touches to the back, him forcing me to sit when I had been rearranging Al’s furniture. Then it was a gift of delicious chocolate when they came back from France and a home cooked meal when I was too busy to make it myself. I found his eyes tracing my body more often, lingering in certain places. He sometimes stood just a little too close to me while I did the dishes. He wore a shirt less often and I greedily drank in his body when I could. None of this escaped Wade’s notice. I knew he was scheming.

It was a crisp autumn night when I climbed out on the fire escape to settle next to Logan. The cigar smoke was a comfort now, earthy and sweet. We sat in silence for a few moments. Sometimes that was enough for me, just to be in his presence, but not tonight. I shoved my chilly hands deep into the pockets of my jacket. I titled my head, watching his cheeks hollow around the cigar, the ash skittering across his forearm. He didn’t so much as flinch as the hot ash touched him. “Could I try?” I had tried smoking before but had just ended up coughing for a minute straight. He shook his head, watching a bike roll by.

“Last thing you need is lung cancer.” I tentatively laid my head on his shoulder. He would still sometimes jerk away like I had burned him. This time, he allowed me to sink closer, our thighs pressed against each other. I could feel the heat of him sinking through my clothes.

“Mm, it smells good though.” He takes a long drag, letting the smoke linger in his lungs before letting it out in a puff. A long moment of silence passes. We’ve been slowly circling each other for weeks, all lingering touches and heavy glances. How would he react if I finally did something? Pull away? I knew he and Wade still slept together, Al complained about it enough that I couldn’t escape it. Wade and I hadn’t really gone beyond our kisses. Despite what he called himself on my phone, I didn’t want this to be a friends with benefits situation. He seemed to know that and hadn’t pushed for more. Wade made it very clear to the both of us that he has no qualms about sharing. If anything, I think he wants Logan and I to have sex more than he wants to have sex with me.

Steeling my resolve, I rest my chin on his shoulder. “Can I try a taste?” Logan glanced down at me, that crease reappearing between his eyebrows.

“What?” His voice is dry, a touch on edge. I wanted to apologize for my flirting and run but I can’t allow myself to. My fingers trace the corner of his lip, the edge of his jaw. He turned just an inch closer to me and I’m able to take in his lined and handsome face.

“Just one taste?” It comes out breathy, barely audible. But he hears it, he always does. There’s the faintest tick at the corner of his lips like he was going to smile. “I promise to be gentle,” now that got a smirk out of him.

“You don’t scare me sweetheart,” his voice was a low rumble.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” He pressed the still burning cigar onto his palm. The smell of burning flesh floated up to me and my nose twitched at it. “Why would you-“ but the words are cut off as his unburned palm cupped the back of my neck and dragged me closer, our lips pressing together. The kiss is chaste. My eyes fall shut, a surprised gasp leaving me. His beard scratches lightly at my face as we move our heads. But then he nudges my nose, tilting his head back. “No, please,” I whispered, chasing his lips. I felt his sigh ghost across my face before he cupped both cheeks and drew me back against his mouth. I moan against him, clutching at the front of his sweatshirt, wanting him closer, craving it. Then his lips are moving against mine. My hands slide into his hair and give the strands a tug. His mouth parts on a growl and I take the opportunity to lick my way in. I can taste the tang of whiskey, the sweetness of the cigar, a hint of mint. I want to crush myself against him, to feel his body against mine, to explore his skin.

Just as I’m reaching under his sweatshirt, hungry for the feel of the torso that’s been haunting me, he withdraws. His breath still coasts across my face and my nose was full of the scent of him. My breath was ragged while his was perfectly even. Embarrassing. My eyes are slow to open. I found him only a few inches away, a smug expression on his handsome face.

“There,” he whispers, “got your taste.”

“Asshole.” Now he smiles, perfect teeth glinting in the streetlight.

“Yeah, get that in your pretty head now.” His calloused fingers tapped at my temple. “I’m not someone to get attached to.”

“Well she’s sticking around me and I’m about as much boyfriend material as sandpaper.” I jumped nearly out of my skin at the sound of Wade’s voice. Logan just smirked and circled his hands around my wrists, squeezed once to make me let go of his sweatshirt. I had half a mind to refuse, crawl into his lap and kiss every inch of skin I could find. But I let my hands fall weakly to my lap. “When you two fuck, can you record it? I’ve tried finding look-alikes on pornhub, but it’s just not the same.” I huffed, glancing down at where Wade’s head was, a spark of annoyance at him interrupting Logan and I. He’s half laying on the metal grate, his legs dangling off the couch beneath the window.

“Ain’t gonna happen dickwad.” I can hear Logan’s lighter flicking before the smell of the cigar is back. I hoped he had just meant recording and that gruff tone wasn’t for the idea of us having sex. But he let me remain close so I took that as a good sign.

“Don’t listen to him, baby bunny. Look, he literally tried killing me and we ended up fucking in the end.”

“Was still trying to kill you,” Logan growls. Wade gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like Logan actually succeeded.

“Don’t lie peanut! What’s more romantic than stabbing me in the neck? That Honda Odyssey was shaking all night.”

“I hope that’s not how you plan on being romantic with me,” I laughed, reaching down to tug at Wade’s cheek. “I can’t snap back like you two.”

“Of course not darling,” he covered my hand in sloppy kisses, sucking a hickey on my wrist. “I’ll let you stab me in the neck while you fuck me. Would never want to hurt that sexy face.”

“Ugh, get a room you two,” Logan snapped, nudging my knee with his. I glanced back at him but found his face reserved again. As much as I wanted to linger and force my time on Logan, I knew he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“We should take Mary Puppins out, yeah?” Wade nodded, wiggling free of his awkward position. The decrepit dog came bounding around the corner. She wiggled her naked butt as Wade grabbed her leash. I looked back at Logan. He was determinately ignoring me, eyes locked onto the dark apartment across the way. “I’ll probably head home once that’s done.” He nodded and brought the cigar back to his lips. “Why did you put it out on your hand?”

“Didn’t want to drop it on you. It’s a nasty burn.” There was something fleeting and tender that passed over his averted face. A little smile spread across my face.

“Thank you, you’re my hero.” I pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, lingering just a beat too long, before I pulled away. “Goodnight Logan.” I didn’t wait for his reply, if he even intended to give one.

Wade was happy with the progress me and Logan had made.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

Which is how I found myself locked in their shared cramped bathroom, Wade’s head buried between my legs, while two of his fingers plunged inside me. My legs were shaking, my heel pressed against his shoulder to spread me open more. “Wade,” I whimpered as tears pricked my eyes. He had already drawn one orgasm from me with his rough and agile fingers before he dropped to his knees. “I c-can’t.”

“I know you can honey bun.” His breath was hot against my tender skin and I gasped. “Just one more for me, yeah?” I nodded, hips grinding against him. “There you go. You’re close again aren’t you?” I nodded again, eyes rolling back. He kitten licked across my overly sensitive clit. I knew I was making a mess of his face but he seemed to revel in it. He left a trail of sticky kisses along my bruised and bitten thigh. “Do you hear yourself? Got that WAP.” I smacked his head before pushing him deeper to keep him from running his mouth more. He latched back onto my clit, sucking harshly, and a third finger wedged into me. My back arched and I had to bite my lip hard to stay quiet. My eyes fell closed. His spare hand moved from my hip where it had been holding me.

The sudden sound of the door opening made me freeze. Al had laid down for a nap which was the only reason I allowed Wade to drag me in here. But instead I found Logan framed in the doorway. He had the look of a deer in headlights. “Now peanut,” Wade cooed, his head laid against my thigh. to look at the other man. He didn’t stop fingering me, the squelching sounds suddenly too loud. “Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“I wasn’t, you two are too fucking loud.” Logan’s nostrils were flared, heaving chest straining against his thin tank top.

“Uh huh,” Wade teased, his tongue swirling around my clit. My hand clamped over my mouth as a sob caught in my chest. “That massive tent in your pants has nothing to do with you hovering.” Logan growled, palming at himself, seemingly angry at his body. “Come on handsome, look at her.” Wade pushed my thighs farther apart, his free hand spreading me.

“Oh god,” I mumbled, embarrassment making me cover my face. I couldn’t hear Logan’s steps, he was always so light on his feet, but I could feel him examining me. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end.

“Don’t hide from us gorgeous,” Wade chides. “Logan Ioves to watch orgasm faces. I can feel you fluttering, I know you're close.” When I don’t remove my hands, Wade sighs, the exhale of air making my hips jerk. “Come on, you can be brave for us.” I take a shaky breath and remove my hands, curling them around the edge of the counter. Wade smiled while Logan’s dialated eyes were glued to my pussy. I watched his Adam's apple bob and he shifted from one foot to the other. “Good job,” he kissed my clit, popping obscenely. “Now make a mess on my face.”

He dove back between my legs. With Logan there, Wade seemed determined to force me to come as hard and as fast as he could. His fingers drove into me with firm thrusts, tongue flicking cruelly at my clit. My leg was trembling so much it slipped from Wade’s shoulder, only to be caught by Logan. I struggled to focus on him, my vision blurry from prickling tears of overstimulation. His calloused palm traced up my ankle and calf before notching behind my knee. With my pussy covered by Wade’s head, Logan could only look at my face. I wanted him closer, to feel his mouth against mine again, that scrape of his beard. His eyes fastened to my neck, watching my erratic pulse.

“Logan,” my voice tilts up at the end, hands reaching for him. Before I was able to even breathe, just as the orgasm was rushing through me, Logan’s lips crashed against mine. I clung to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and locking both of my shuddering legs around his waist, moaning wildly into his mouth. Wade groaned as his head was pinned between our hips and the vibrations made me cry out. Logan was kissing me like a man starved, biting at my lips, grunting like he was the one coming. A combination of our spit collected at the corner of my mouth and he licked at it hungrily. His blunt nails dug into the tender skin behind my knees as he clutched me closer. Tears streaked down my cheeks as Wade kept working me into near painful overstimulation.

Logan separated first, his forehead pressed to mine. My breath was ragged, sweat collecting along my hairline. I wanted more, to lose myself between their touches, their bodies. Wade finally stilled, his fingers still buried deep. His mouth released me and I gasped as his harsh breaths coasted across me. “You okay down there?” My voice shook. I reached down and ran my nails across his scalp.

“Broke my nose, but it’s okay.” I bolted up straight and Logan stumbled back to avoid my head cracking against his. Blood and my slick was smeared across his face, staining his white teeth as he beamed up at me. The tip of his nose was bent at an odd angle.

“I’m so sorry,” I cupped his face, panic rushing through me. “Are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” Logan said. One of his big hands braced on Wade’s head before he grabbed the broken nose with two fingers. With a pop and a grunt from Wade, the nose slid back into place. “There,” he tapped Wade’s sticky face, “good as new.”

“You’re always so nice to me,” Wade grumbled, itching the rapidly healing bump. His drenched fingers slid from me, glistening in the harsh bathroom light. Logan glanced between Wade and I, one finger twirling in the drawstring of his black sweatpants. I wish I could read his mind, be able to tell his emotions from one glance, or a touch. I wanted to understand this unsure look on his face. He almost seemed nervous to be in here now that the haze of lust had passed. He swallowed thickly before he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“See you tomorrow sweetheart.” My arms, which were about to latch around his neck to keep him close, hung limply in the air. I blinked as he walked away, disappearing into their dark bedroom. Wade shook his head as he stood and closed the bathroom door.

“Did I do something?” I whispered, knowing Logan would hear me anyway. Wade’s hands went to my thighs, kneading at the tight muscles, leaving behind wet handprints with his right one.

“No, he’s just a fucking idiot who doesn’t think he deserves happiness. I’ve been trying to ease him into this but he’s stubborn.” He turned his head, “and he’s stupid!” I heard their bedroom door snap shut. “He’s worried he’ll scare you off. Just give him time. He’s just…just had a lot happen to him.” I nodded. “Don’t take it personally, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Are you two done in there?!” A cane hit the door. “She needs to read me my mail!”

Never more in my life have I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Only compounded by Wade wiping the door open, cocking his hip to glare at his roommate. I knew she was blind, that she had completely lost vision almost twenty years ago. But that didn’t stop me from stretching my shirt down to try and cover myself, crossing my legs. “I see Miss sleepy granny pants is awake. What do you need? A diaper change?” Al scoffed, her cane clicking along the floorboards of the hallway as she moved to the kitchen. Once she was out of our sight, Wade plucked my panties from the floor.

“Why?” He shrugged, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Maybe I need to get him used to your scent, like a dog.” I rolled my eyes but bit back a hiss as he dragged the coarse material through my wet folds. “Need a lot of it I think, yeah, nice and soaked.” I shoved his hand away and he tucked my panties into his pocket. Wade helped me off the counter, his hands braced on my waist to keep me steady. My jeans had been tossed carelessly to the side and I dreaded putting them back on without the barrier of my underwear. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear those pesky jeans, even if they do make your ass look so good I want to rip them off you every time you wear them.” He passed through the bathroom and into his and Logan’s room. I peeked around the edge of the door frame and nearly fainted at the sight.

Logan was splayed across their dark sheets, body bare, hard cock in his hand. While the room was dim, the beams of light from the hallway were able to reach in. The shadows played over his muscles and I watched as they flexed. I wasn’t able to see his cock well, both his hand and the poor lighting limited my vision. But I was able to see a long, thick vein along the underside. My face heated at the sight of him. “Knock, asshole,” his voice was husky. The sound of him made my toes curl. If I hadn’t just had a mind melting orgasm, I would have been striding into that room, ready to do anything he wanted me to. His stomach fluttered as his strokes became more rapid.

“Here,” Wade said as he tossed my drenched panties on Logan’s face. His hips jerked, knuckles flashing white around himself. Wade searched through a drawer before pulling something from inside. “Now be good and keep those right there for when I come back.” Logan growled, removing the fabric from his face but kept it clutched in his fist. Wade blew him a kiss and a wave before closing the door again. He offered me a pair of sweatpants. I tugged them on with a mumbled thank you, having to roll the waistband down multiple times so I wasn’t swimming in them. Wade pinched my chin and our eyes locked. “I’ll get him to warm up, promise.” I nodded. “Now go take care of Miss Migoo. Remember to text me when you get home.”

“Of course,” I stood on my toes to kiss his healed nose. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry babykins. If it makes you feel better, I was near suffocation. So a busted nose was the best case scenario.” He laughed at my horrified expression. “Hey, I’d much rather die from pussy smothering than my heart being ripped out.”

“You know, that doesn’t make me feel much better.” He smirked and drew me closer, his lips connecting with mine. I could taste the tang of me coating him. But I pulled back first. I needed to keep my head on straight for the last hour of my time with Al. “Keep it down with him, please? It’ll be too distracting.” His expression turned wicked.

“Trust me, I have a way I’ll shut him up.” His hands coasted down my hips, grabbing a handful of my ass. “I’ll send pictures of what happens to your cute little panties once we’re done with them.” My face flushed and I pressed my hands to his chest.

“God, you’re such a pervert.”

“Mhm, you like it though.”

“Will you two stop! My vision isn’t coming back anytime soon.” We reluctantly broke apart. Wade slipped into the bedroom. I was only able to catch a brief glimpse of Logan’s back arched, heels dug deep into the mattress, before my sight was cut off. I grabbed my discarded jeans and stuffed them into the tote bag I had brought with me. The last bit of my shift ended in mostly silence, minus the occasional creak of the bed frame from the guy’s bedroom. I helped Al sign a few checks, read through her mail, and took out Mary Puppins. I said my good night and left the apartment. My mind conjured up thoughts on what could be happening behind that closed door all the way home on the train. Wade, clad only in my stolen underwear, bouncing on Logan. My panties stuffed into Logan’s mouth as Wade pounds him from behind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop my imagination from getting too wild. It wouldn’t help anything to get turned on now.

If my mind hadn’t been so filled with dirty thoughts, I would have noticed the man watching me from the other end of the train car.

I made it to my apartment. The key fob scanner was broken again. “Advanced security my ass,” I groaned, trudging up to my apartment. It was Friday and I felt like ordering something in. I knew I shouldn’t, the delivery fees were astronomical, but I just wanted to relax. After placing my pizza order, I grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and a shirt stolen from Logan by Wade, then gifted to me. It always felt illegal to wear it, but it was easily the softest shirt I had. His scent lingered on it and it always soothed me. I had around an hour before my pizza was going to arrive. I made a little nest for myself on the couch and tucked in to watch some mindless reality tv.

A knock woke me up. At first I was confused, rubbing at my eyes and looking around to locate the sound. Then my mind caught up. “Oh shit,” I mumbled, scrambling to the door as the poor delivery guy knocked again. “Sorry! Sorry!” I called. I unlocked the door and swung it open.

I froze.

A man, with no pizza box, stood before me. “Um, can I help you?” The man had ice chips for eyes, cold and lifeless. A tattoo peaked above his collar. He took me in, tracing each inch of me. I felt my skin break out in goosebumps at the cold calculation on his face. My arms curled over my chest, hiding it from him. “Can I help you?” My tone was stronger, a small snap to it. That horrible gaze found mine again. Then he said my full name. Fear oozed through me.

I heard something from my bedroom, a little thump, but was too terrified to look away from the man in front of me. “Get the fuck out of here,” but the words lacked conviction, a slight tremble to them. “I don’t know who you are. Leave or I’m calling the cops.”

“Why wouldn’t you call your boyfriends?” My heart stuttered in my chest.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” I heard the creak of my floorboard. I cast a wild glance behind me and found a wall of a man emerging from my bedroom. I went to scream but the man at my door latched his hand around my mouth. I kicked and thrashed, biting wildly. He didn’t react. There was a pinch in my neck.

My elbows tried to find his face, but he was able to easily deflect them. The man in my apartment was searching for something. My eyes were blurring, limbs turned to lead. I saw him hold my phone up.

Then I slumped to the ground.

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thehoneybeestings · 1 month ago

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𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐯𝐢 𝐱 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 2k

Content/Warnings: sfw, arcane au in which they're all actors starring in the show, bold vi x clueless reader, reader gets yelled at by a dickhead but vi doesn't play about u, reader doesn't like coffee or beer sorry I'm projecting, reader referred to w fem pronouns and terms

A/N: yayyy here we are with pt 2 of the arcane actor au series! i honestly wasn't planning on writing for anyone else, but if there's someone else you'd really like to see in this universe, let me know and I'll do my best to bring it to life!

i hope you enjoy :)

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐕𝐢

୨ৎ So remember that Sevika is the polar opposite of her actress, Nina?

୨ৎ Well, stick Vi in our world and there's Quinn Lockland

୨ৎ She's a b-list actress, made popular mostly by her giant fanbase of sapphics, because come on; look at her

୨ৎ Looks aside, she’s also known for her big personality (this is a nice way of saying she has no media training and is constantly stressing her management team The Fuck out)

୨ৎ She's most frequently described by her fans as a “puppy dog lesbian”: super outgoing and down-to-earth, himbo energy, sass for days, but also has a huge heart

୨ৎ She's a golden retriever!

୨ৎ And it is very hard not to fall for her… you're quick to learn this during your first few weeks working as a set PA for Arcane’s second season

୨ৎ It's your first time working on a project of this scale, so despite essentially being a glorified errand boy, you're still over the moon to have gotten the opportunity

୨ৎ Of course, it helps that nearly every day, you share a set with Quinn Lockland, who seems to have taken a liking to you, too…

୨ৎ She's had her eye on you for as long as you've been working on set, but you don't even realize she knows you exist until she comes up one day to officially introduce herself

୨ৎ She walks up behind you, wearing one of those giant puffy coats that actors wear when their costumes don't account for freezing temperatures, and places a gentle hand on the back of your arm to grab your attention

୨ৎ “Hey! Y/n, right?”

୨ৎ Holy hell

୨ৎ She's even prettier up close

୨ৎ Wait… how does she already know your name?

୨ৎ Ugh, don't get your hopes up; she probably just saw your name on the call sheet and needs something

୨ৎ “Y-yeah, that's me,” you say, trying your best to act casual despite being face-to-face with one of your celebrity crushes, “what can I do for you?”

୨ৎ “Oh, no!” She chuckles, and her baby blues crinkle up into crescent moons. “I don't need anything; you're all good. Just got out of hair and makeup early and wanted to say hi.”

୨ৎ “O-Oh..” you chuckle awkwardly (before kicking yourself for being so damn awkward)

୨ৎ Luckily, Quinn is super good at making conversation regardless of how shy the other person may be, so she continues

୨ৎ “This your first series?”

୨ৎ “Oh, yes! It is, I've only worked movie sets before, so…”

୨ৎ “Same here,” she nods. “I think I prefer this. Gives me more time to explore the character and all that nerdy actor shit.”

୨ৎ This earns a laugh from you, and the smile that breaks out on her face is so fucking warm you nearly melt

୨ৎ She juts her arm out, gesturing to the paper cup in hand

୨ৎ “Coffee?” She asks

୨ৎ “Oh, no thanks; I'm more of a tea person.”

୨ৎ “Noted,” she says-mostly to herself- and before you have time to read into what she meant by that, here comes the 2nd AD barking orders at you

୨ৎ “Need a new lav for Nina yesterday.”

୨ৎ Quinn doesn't miss the snappy tone they take with you

୨ৎ And you don't miss the narrowed eyes she shoots them as you dart off to complete your given task

୨ৎ For the rest of your time on set, Quinn greets you every morning with a coffee for herself in one hand and a tea for you in the other

୨ৎ “I don't know how you drink that shit. No sugar or anything. Tastes like dirt.”

୨ৎ “Quinn, you drink black coffee. I don't think you have room to judge.”

୨ৎ “ ‘S different.”

୨ৎ You playfully roll your eyes with a chuckle, and a smirk breaks out on her face as she lightly shoves you with her arm

୨ৎ “Hey! Watch it, you've got hot coffee in that-”

୨ৎ “Y/n?”

୨ৎ You hear her scoff

୨ৎ Surprise, surprise... the 2nd AD

୨ৎ She started keeping her eye on them- more specifically, how they treated you- after that first time she'd seen them speak to you disrespectfully

୨ৎ And Quinn being Quinn- outspoken as she is outgoing- isn't shy about making her growing distaste for them known

୨ৎ If there was one thing she didn't tolerate, it was anyone on set being treated as if they weren't an integral part of the production, regardless of what their title was

୨ৎ She'd been considered a little guy once- an extra on the set of a big movie, treated as if her role didn't matter- and since then, she'd vowed to stand up against any mistreatment she saw

୨ৎ One day, she's standing on her mark as the grips get everything ready for filming and beckons you over to bug you (you love it) one last time before action is called

୨ৎ “What's up?” You ask, assuming she needs something

୨ৎ “Nothing. Just missed you.”

୨ৎ You feel a heat rise to your cheeks, and you chuckle incredulously

୨ৎ “You're… ridiculous. You know-”

୨ৎ “Y/n,” the 2nd AD suddenly calls, “get out of the shot!”

୨ৎ She's quick to turn her head to them, anger evident on her face

୨ৎ “I called her over here,” she spits, shaking her head as they conveniently back down as soon as she speaks up

୨ৎ “Jesus, are they always rude as shit?”

୨ৎ You choke out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand

୨ৎ “Quinn,” you whisper, “the mics are on… they've got headphones, they can hear you!”

୨ৎ She shrugs her shoulders as if to say, “Like I give a fuck,” and you roll your eyes, shaking your head in amusement as you walk away

୨ৎ “You’re a mess, Lockland.”

୨ৎ “You love it,” she calls after you

୨ৎ But it all comes to a head when she's walking down the hall one day and hears the annoyingly unmistakable voice of the 2nd AD going in on someone just around the corner

୨ৎ “... and now our actors can't eat until an hour after they were promised and production has to account for a change in schedule because you couldn't even place a damn catering order correctly.”

୨ৎ “I-I’m so sorry...”

୨ৎ Her eyes widen

୨ৎ There was your unmistakable voice

୨ৎ “I completely understand-”

୨ৎ “No! I don't think you understand! You know, it might be time you consider if you're really cut out for-”

୨ৎ “Everything alright?”

୨ৎ Quinn finally rounds the corner and leans against the wall, her eyes burning into the AD

୨ৎ Their face runs pale

୨ৎ “Y-yes! Everything’s fine, we just-”

୨ৎ “You sure? Because I can't think of a good enough reason for her to be near tears right now.”

୨ৎ Her tone remains steady and collected, but you both know anger boils just under the surface

୨ৎ “She… she just-”

୨ৎ “Fuck off.”

୨ৎ There it was

୨ৎ She kicks off the wall with a look that could kill, and the AD goes scrambling

୨ৎ The minute her eyes are on you- shaken up and downright humiliated- she softens, reaching out to squeeze your arm

୨ৎ “You okay?”

୨ৎ “Yeah, I just… it is my fault; I accidentally placed the lunch order for 1 instead of 12-”

୨ৎ She cuts you off with a dramatic eye roll

୨ৎ “Oh my god, and now we're all gonna die.”

୨ৎ A soft chuckle manages to escape through your tears, and a smile breaks out on her face at the sight

୨ৎ “I mean, seriously, when has lunch ever gotten here on time? You're fine, love. C’mon, your dirt water is getting cold.”

୨ৎ So… the 2nd AD doesn't come back…

୨ৎ But hey! You get promoted and take their spot!

୨ৎ Now, you're much more involved with the filming process and around Quinn a lot more as a result

୨ৎ Somehow, you still don't see that the giant crush you have on her is very much reciprocated

୨ৎ At least, not until today

୨ৎ It's been one of the longest days on set yet; Quinn is hungry, exhausted, and now, she's filming one of the most devastating scenes that Vi is in

୨ৎ Your brows are knit together in focus, watching through the screen as she lays flat on her back on the giant metal set piece, sobs wracking her body

୨ৎ But when the director calls cut, she doesn't stop crying

୨ৎ You can see her trying to play it off-sitting up, running her fingers through her hair- but she's still crying

୨ৎ You look over at the director, concern written all over your face, and he nods, giving you the go-ahead to check on her

୨ৎ “Hey,” you say gently, kneeling down and placing a hand on her shoulder, “you okay, Quinn?”

୨ৎ Your comfort only makes her tears return in full swing

୨ৎ “I’m just tired,” she says, voice breaking, “and that was a lot.”

୨ৎ “Yeah,” you nod, thumb swiping tears from under her eyes, “it was. You done for the day?”

୨ৎ She chuckles dryly through her tears

୨ৎ “I’m so done.”

୨ৎ The set finally wraps for the day, and you wait outside of her trailer as she changes into sweatpants and a hoodie

୨ৎ “I need a drink,” she exhales, walking down the trailer’s steps

୨ৎ “You need to eat, too,” you remind her with a smile

୨ৎ “Damn, I do… pizza and beer at my place?” She asks

୨ৎ “I don't drink beer…” you shyly admit

୨ৎ “Dude. First, the tea, now this? You're so high maintenance…”

୨ৎ She may feign irritation, but she swings an arm over your shoulder as you walk to her car anyway

୨ৎ Now, the two of you sit across from each other on her couch, half a pizza knocked out, Quinn nursing a beer, and you a glass of wine

୨ৎ “What about Serena? I mean, you guys obviously have chemistry, or people wouldn't like Caitlyn and Vi together so much.”

୨ৎ The of you were on the topic of your love lives now; well, the lack thereof…

୨ৎ “She's taken,” Quinn informs you, “and not really my type anyway.”

୨ৎ “Oh? Then what is your type?”

୨ৎ She throws back the last sip of her beer before placing the bottle on the table

୨ৎ There's a pregnant pause as she leans back, considering what to say next, or rather, if she should say what's already on the tip of her tongue

୨ৎ Fuck it, she thinks

୨ৎ “I don't know. I suppose I have kind of a thing for 2nd AD’s.”

୨ৎ You throw your head back in a laugh

୨ৎ “What?!” you ask, the comment going over your head completely

୨ৎ “That’s-”

୨ৎ Oh… now you get it…

୨ৎ Your voice drops, just over a whisper

୨ৎ “Oddly specific…”

୨ৎ She gives you a knowing smirk

୨ৎ “Wait… so does that mean… so just to confirm-”

୨ৎ “Yes, Y/n. I like you.”

୨ৎ The two of you have a good laugh over just how clueless you'd been, and eventually- two glasses of wine, three beers, half a pizza, and one makeout session later- you're passed out on the couch, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled together

୨ৎ It isn't long after that night that the two of you make it official, and you move in with her after season two wraps

୨ৎ Your relationship is kept relatively private, until one night, Quinn is live on Instagram doing a Q&A for the season’s premiere

୨ৎ She's in the middle answering a question- ironically, about CaitVi- when you walk behind her, not realizing you're in frame

୨ৎ Suddenly, she's flooded with comments

୨ৎ “omg who was that?!”

୨ৎ “QUINN U HAVE SOMEONE OVER RN GET OFF LIVE?!"

୨ৎ “mama a girl behind u…”

୨ৎ The last catches her attention

୨ৎ “Mama, a…”

୨ৎ Her head whips around in a panic, and she sighs in relief when she sees you standing there

୨ৎ “Oh my fuck, whoever said “mama a girl behind you” is banned, I deadass thought there was an intruder…”

୨ৎ You let out a chuckle at this

୨ৎ “omg who is she!!”

୨ৎ “AWW HER LAUGH”

୨ৎ “WAIT NO DON'T BSN MR PLS”

୨ৎ Quinn reads all of the comments with a coy smile

୨ৎ “You've been discovered, babe,” she calls out to you

୨ৎ You immediately feel so bad, worrying that you've ruined the live or that you've put her in the position to publicize your relationship before she was ready

୨ৎ “Shit, I’m so sorry!”

୨ৎ She turns to give you a warm smile

୨ৎ “Don't apologize, love. You're fine; you didn't do anything wrong.”

୨ৎ Now everyone’s going crazy over how sweet she is to you

୨ৎ And sweet she is; she is the lover boy of the century, and now that you're public, she brags about you any chance she gets

୨ৎ You two quickly become one of the internet’s favorite couples; a staple conversation topic for your everyday sapphic

୨ৎ And once a month, you two make a point to have pizza, wine, and beer to commemorate the night that you finally realized Quinn Lockland was just as whipped for you as you were for her

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

#vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi imagine #vi headcanon #vi fluff #arcane actor au #arcane au #vi au #arcane imagine #arcane fluff #arcane headcanon #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #vi arcane

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carmenized-onions · 10 months ago

Text

Something to Do. | Catering

logline; Itinerary for your trip to New York? Just try not to fucking cry.

[!!!] series history, this is the twelfth; gonna start season three after I post this. Wonder how bad it's gonna throw off the rest of my plot line. Ideally not at all. We'll see.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. I really like this playlist for all chapters, but for a wedding where music is blasting, it feels particularly fitting.

portion; 13.3k how does this keep happening.

possible allergies; Terrible self-image, everything feels bad, very real conversations abt ,,, self-death and addiction.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets referred to as a woman and other feminine honourifics but no pronouns, i believe)

i made you all so mad last chapter. Let's see if i can make it up to you, babydoll (probably wont)

You hate to admit it, but you were kind of relieved when you found out Carmen wasn’t coming on the plane. You’re in a bit of a state of fight or flight; well, more accurately, currently leaning towards the flight side— Pun intended.

He’s coming to the wedding. You know he is. For one, he’s getting thirty grand for this, he has to. For two, his location is still on for you— Whether he forgot to turn it off or just didn’t care, you’re not sure. But he hates you, so there’s no way it was intentional, you’re certain about that much.

You know you shouldn’t be looking at it, but you have. You’ve been looking all week. Checking your Find my Friends like a doting mother. He goes to work far too early, he stays far after close, he goes home. Rinse and repeat.

You check on him one last time before boarding the plane. He’s opted to drive, with Richie. Something about ‘wanting to bring their personal equipment’, Richie texted you. They’re halfway through Ohio. You’re sure that road trip is definitely going spectacular after their side of the explosion.

Richie texted the day after that fucking fiasco, asking if you’d want updates on how it’s going at The Bear. How it’s going with Carmen. You said you wanted to know if he wanted to tell. He opted not to tell.

You hate to admit, you were kind of relieved, to not know. To just look at Carmen’s little icon go from Point A to B. Instead of Carmen Reports, you and Richie text about much lighter things. Normal things. Eva drew a funny picture of you kinda things. It’s nice. You know you’re probably being childish, but it feels so much fucking better to ignore the Bear in the room. You don’t know how to feel about anything, and frankly you don’t want to try to figure it out.

You suck, Carmen sucks, what more is there to know? Process it? Fuck that.

Carmen hasn’t texted you; you haven’t texted him, the entire week. Radio silence. You stopped playing Connections. Didn’t see a point. Not like they even have a streak function anyways— You’d die before you let that Wordle streak break, though. That was your thing. Carmen doesn’t get to take your things, too.

You didn’t get a text from the Exec, either. So that’s… Something? Or, rather, explicitly, that’s nothing. Does that mean Carmen gives a shit? Not necessarily. Ugh. Your whole system was so shocked after that fucking fight that you didn’t really have time to take in the fact that that jag was into you? Vomit inducing. You’ve got to rethink your life choices, if they lead you to him.

But also, you know if Carmen and you were okay right now, you probably would’ve given him your number. You would’ve catfished him for weeks, laughing over your phone with Carmen and Syd as this idiot falls into your trap. You miss Carmen. You also don’t miss Carmen. You want to see him desperately and also never fucking look at him again.

Carmen’s going to be in the kitchen; you’re going to be out in the banquet hall, on bar, this whole wedding. The likelihood either of you have to actually interact this weekend is quite low. The likelihood either of you have to confront what you’re supposed to do with yourselves now is quite low. You hate to admit it, you’re fucking relieved.

Sydney sleeps on your shoulder, for most of the plane ride. You sleep against her head. Shout out Marcus, for switching seats. He’s behind you, with Tina. He wakes both of you up about an hour in, shaking your seats— Because the dessert cart came out and he didn’t want either of you to miss it. The mini cheesecakes are better than expected, to be fair, so he’s forgiven.

This is going to be the stupidest weekend of your life. You’ll take that, over worst, at least.

“Be honest, would you tip me extra well?”

You give a twirl in your probably too fancy semi-cultural outfit. Your family shows up for weddings, if Vinnie and Mira didn’t want their bartender to go hard, they should’ve put that in their notes. It actually would have been nice to get sent notes, though… What is the theme for this wedding other than ‘Italian’ and ‘New York’…? Glitter eyeshadow is probably fine, right? Yeah it’s fine. Not like you could get that shit off now, anyways.

“If you were my bartender, I would ask ‘what are we?’” Answers Syd, watching you from the bathroom as she attempts to put her hair up. Definitely struggling in silence.

Sharing a hotel room was the best idea you ever had. It would be a nightmare to get ready alone in silence, right now. It’s nice to talk and have something to do. If you didn’t, you’d absolutely be ruminating about Carmen, debating whether or not to check on his room, that’s just down the hall, you could see if he needed help with getting ready and also see if he’s as tired as you think he is and— Plus, the amount you saved on splitting a one bed? Christ. Economy is in shambles. So is your brain.

“You would not be brave enough to ask your bartender ‘what are we?’”

“For you, I would.”

“Are we about to kiss, bro?” You duck into the bathroom, getting way too close to the side of Syd’s face. She laughs, pushing you away with the palm of her hand, you scoff, “Wooowwww—”

You clutch your heart, mortally wounded. Retching, truly. Now this is heartbreak in its rawest form. “—Reject me, why don’t you?”

“I’m playing the role of timid—” “I’m sick of this friends to lovers plot line!” “It adds! It adds!”

“Shut up— And tilt your head back, dumbass, what are you doing?” You stand behind her, taking her braids into your hands as she struggles to bundle them all herself.

“I do this all the time by myself, y’know.” So Syd says, but she lets you take her braids regardless.

“Yeah, but I’m here.” You stretch the hairband on your fingers. “Messy bun?”

“You think?”

“I think primal is too clean.”

“No, I was gonna do the one where it does like— Like the infinity in the front?”

“Who’s mom are you tryna fuckin’ look like?”

She kisses her teeth, attempting to reach a hand behind her head to smack you. You dodge and somehow manage to make it easier to smack you. “I’m literally only gonna get to come out after everyone’s left, I dunno why we’re making effort here—”

“High messy bun?” “High messy bun.”

Oh, the days of doing each other’s hair. You’re glad it’s back. You’re glad you get to become, together, again. It used to be bobbles, friendship bracelets, and glitter tattoos—but now it’s tying up each other’s hair, helping with the curling iron, clasping the gold chains on your neck, zipping up the back of your outfit, pinning the collar pins on her uniform, fixing makeup, asking each other to compare perfumes before going through with the final decision, mocking each other’s purchases.

“Wait, what mini deodorant did you get at customs?”

“Oh, one of those Native ones— I think it’s peach—?”

“Those cost like five fucking dollars, Ink. For like two swipes.”

“Excuse me for wanting to smell good, fuckin’ ‘wolfthorn’—”

“I work in a restaurant. I need Old Spice strength, okay��!”

“Oh, pbbbttt— Syd.”

“Pbb—Fuck, how do you do that?”

There’s a knock at the door, interrupting your squabble. “Are you decent?!”

Sydney groans, “No!”

“Yes, Rich, we’re decent, doors open.”

Richie comes in, unceremoniously. A touch awkward. He’s so rarely been in a room with women getting ready. It’s simultaneously exactly what he expected, and not at all what he expected. “Chip, can you put these fuckin’ things on f’me?”

Cufflinks. He presents the box to you. They’re just plain and silver, boring. Save that in your rolodex of gifts to get this Christmas. “You’re fuckin’ forty and you don’t know how to put on some cufflinks—?”

You’re nagging, but you’re already putting them on him, he holds his wrist out for you. “Nah, I was too busy runnin’ shit to learn.”

“Runnin’ your mouth, more like.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It’s a quiet moment, a tender moment, of adjusting his sleeves. Sydney’s scrambling to clean up the room around you two in the background. It’s hard to turn off the autopilot of cleaning one’s station, no matter where she goes.

You purse your lips. You shouldn’t ask and you shouldn’t care, but you do. You half-whisper, to Richie. “How was the drive?” He knows what you’re asking.

“Terrible start. Surprisingly okay middle. He went straight to the banquet hall once we got here.” He swallows, treading carefully, a thing Richie never does. “Do you wanna know the dirty details?”

Oh good, you wouldn’t be able to check on his room even if you wanted to. You want to. Need to? Stop thinking. Carmen sucks and you suck.

“Not particularly.” You take one final look at his sleeves, happy with your handiwork, letting his wrists go. “You feel settled, though? Or jury’s still out?”

Richie shrugs, tilting his head back and forth. “Grovelled decent enough, by time we hit Penn. But I’m waitin’ on my informer.”

You cringe, knowing what he means. You also know he’d smack you if you said he doesn’t need your say in order to forgive Carmen. “It’s gonna be a minute, until your informer has an answer.”

“I know.” He nods, twisting his wrists back and forth, looking at the cufflinks. Then he gives you a once over. “Y’look good.”

“You too.” You look over him, he does look good. He’s in his suit, wearing his wedding ring, which makes your heart hurt a little bit, but he does look good. “What’s your fuckin’ job tonight, by the way?” He can’t be doing kitchen. He sucks at kitchen. But he’s also just not dressed for it.

“Fuckin’ everything.” Hyperbolic? Typically yes, with Richie, but not this time.

“Wait staff here had too high a fee—”

“Translation: more than free?”

“More than free, yeah.”

“Heard.”

“So, I’m server, set up, and fuckin’ whore-derve—”

“What?” That pronunciation snaps Sydney out of her autopilot clean, her back snaps up straight. Hands on her hips, like a disappointed teacher. “It’s hors d’oeuvres.”

Richie rolls his eyes and really his whole head back. “Just because you went to the fuckin’ CIA or whatever the fuck—”

You interrupt the fight before it can start. “Let’s just say appetizers.”

Sydney does not let you. “Apps and hors d’oeuvres are different.”

You angle your body from Richie to her, deadpanning. “Just because you went to the fuckin’ FBI or whatever the fuck—”

“Alright!” She’s already walking to the door, despite the fact that she started it— “We’ve gotta fuckin’ get to hall now or we’re gonna have like zero prep time, Chefs.”

You both follow after her, doing one last check to make sure you’ve got everything you need. You honestly don’t need to be in this much of a rush, you’re pretty sure, but you don’t mention that. Richie said Carmen just went straight to the banquet hall, when they came in this morning. You’re not sure how well you know him anymore, all things considered, but by your best guess, he’s almost certainly done all the prep by himself.

Carmen did not do the kitchen prep entirely himself. Well. He might’ve, you haven’t checked, but you don’t think he would’ve had the time.

Carmen did your prep entirely himself.

When you get to the bar, in the banquet hall, you have nothing to do. Side work finished for you. Lemons, limes, oranges— All cut into wedges and loaded in their baskets— even the cherries are pitted. The glasses are organized from wine to whiskey glasses, the sink is clean— Which you know the banquet hall staff didn’t do— They never fucking do.

You don’t see Carmen, but you know he did it. He showed up before anyone else, he was in the kitchen before anyone else— So no one else could’ve left the simple braised beef sandwich on your station. Exactly how Mikey used to make it. Half hot, half sweet. Your order at The Beef. Carmen would’ve done pork, but this is what they had on hand, and he had a feeling this would mean more, anyways. It does. Granola bar on the plate with it. One of the nice ones, too. The wrapping boasts fifteen grams of protein.

He knows how hard running bar is. He knows you won’t have time to eat once it starts. So, he’s making sure you get something down now— And that you have time to eat it in peace, and making sure you have something you can scarf mid-shift later, when you don’t have time.

Fucking. Hell. Fuck this fucking guy. Carmen fucking sucks. You fucking suck. This all fucking sucks so much. This sandwich is so fucking good. You’re so fucking mad. Stop saying fuck. Fuck your subconscious for wanting you to stop saying fuck. It’s so unfair, for him to be maybe the cruelest a person could possibly be, in front of an audience made out of your loved ones, and then be sweet, like this.

He is awful, with words— Well, he’s typically better, with you, par for the last time, but he’s best in the kitchen. You can taste the sorrow, the guilt, the apology. The first thing he ever made you, was a sandwich, the brisket sandwich, that Mikey refined for you, as an apology, for freaking the fuck out in a freezer and having that be your first impression of him— Or, at least, first first-hand impression of him. How far you’ve come.

This will not pass, as an apology. Not a proper one. But… You’ll give him a sign, in return, at least. A confirmation that you got the message, nothing more. Definitely nothing more.

“Rich.” You stop the guy in his tracks, as he marches through the room, helping the rest of the staff set up the hall. Not his job, but it’s Richie. “Can you ask kitchen their shifties?”

He nods, like he understands, walking away with stacks of chairs under both his arms.

He comes back after two minutes, straight up to your bar. “What the fuck is a shifty?”

“Oh.” You feel condescending, for being surprised. You’d never really thought about the huge difference between morning servers and night servers until right now. Richie has never worked with a bar staff. He worked at a fucking sandwich shop. “It’s uh— Your drink. Get a drink on your shift— Shifty— It can be like, a cocktail, a straight, a shot, coffee—”

“I know how many fucking drinks exist, Chip—” “Mocktail, smoothie, juice—” “Yeah, I’ll get a Pina Colada.” “I will break the blender over your head.” “I’ll get you a list.”

You nod, already starting on usuals you know will have remained unchanged since your absence. Steel trap memory. Getting drinks with The Beef staff used to be the highlight of your week, which isn’t a sad statement at all. “I won’t tell anyone you like Dirty Shirleys.”

He defends. “Eva put me on them.”

“Insane thing to say about your five-year-old.”

“You know what I meant— She likes the normal—” “I’m pokin’ fun, go give this to Carmen.”

You’re hoping if you say it fast, coupled with bickering, Richie won’t make mental note of it. Won’t register it. Of course, he still does. How could he not? You slide the mug to him; he takes it, though, slow, with a perplexed look.

Yeah. They had lavender and maple syrup behind the bar. And cardamom. And milk to froth. And black coffee. Whatever. You didn’t have any dried lavender to top it with, this time, so it’s not actually that cool, anyways. Doesn’t make it special. Did you do a maple syrup drizzle to make up for this? Yeah. You hate yourself just a little bit, for it. You really cannot shut off the way you love, can you? Hopeless. Be even the slightest bit withholding, would you? Just a touch petty? God, you suck. Such a princess.

Rich shrugs, when you don’t try to justify yourself. You’re an adult, he won’t coerce you to be sharper, even if you should be. “Aye aye, Chippy.”

If Carmen ends up wanting to drink later, then he’ll have to come to you. That’s being tough, right? Sure. That’s definitely withholding, Chip. Really showed Carmen there. Certainly, a church woman must be clutching her pearls at your backbone, somewhere in the world.

Do you think you’d be able to handle him coming to your bar, anyways?

No. Decidedly no. Which is a bit stupid, because you’ve faced much scarier things in your life, than some asshole you owe two grand. Well, some asshole you owe two grand that you love deeply that hates you deeply because you are in some part responsible for not taking care of his brother—

Carmen doing your side work was unintentionally cruel, honestly. You don’t have anywhere for your brain to go but him. Don’t have anyone to talk to, or anything to do. Richie can tell and whether you want him to or not; he knows what you need. He repeats himself, walking off with the mug. “I’ll get you your list.”

He knows what you need. Something to do. Something to fix, for someone. Not fix someone. People’s princess. Still failed Mikey, no matter how hard you tried.

Sprite, grenadine, vodka, lime, maraschino cherries. Dirty Shirley. Something to do. Just focus on something to do.

You miss the naivety of wanting something to do. Three hundred guests versus one bartender without a barback is a layer of hell that Dante forgot to specify in his Inferno.

“What can I fix for you, ma’am?!” You’ve got to yell every sentence to get anything intelligible over the music and the cacophony of conversations.

There is an overlap of voices from every single woman crowding around your bar, despite the fact that you were definitely making explicit eye-contact with just one of them. You lean over the counter to hear her alone. She blinks, when you get in her face.

“What are we?”

You cannot stop the snort, but you’re pretty sure she didn’t hear it, music's too loud to hear anything. Syd’s a fucking oracle. “We’re fucked. What can I get for you?”

“Lemon drop shot?” Of course. It’s New York.

“Comin’ right up—”

The crowd of women interrupt you, and each other. “Oh, make that two!” “Make that three!” “Wait what are we making?”

Who the fuck is we? They’re more than welcome to get behind the bar with you. You’d take anyone, at this point.

“Lemon drops, babe!” “Oh—Oh, we doin’ lemon drops?” “Let’s just say ten and be safe!”

Of course.

It’s a lot of that, on repeat. But it’s better than the ones that want one very specific brand of scotch with their soda, because at least you can make huge batches for these ones— Does no one know how to fucking act around an open bar anymore? You get a vodka cran and you fuck off. You really need to start telling people you don’t know how to make bellinis.

Working alone is hard, because you can tell when you turn your back to make drinks, and aren’t able to take twenty more orders at the same time, that everyone’s real fucking annoyed with you. You have tried splitting your cells to become a second person, didn’t work. You’re constantly spinning around to accommodate people, and it’s getting fucking nauseating. And you’re usually patient, but the questions are getting just as mind-numbing.

“Can I get a uh… A negroni… Sbagliato? With prosecco?” “Sbagliato means prosecco is in it, sweetheart.”

“Do you do hurricane shots?” “I’m happy to slap you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, so it’s open bar?” “Yeah.” “So, I don’t have to tip, either?” “Well— It’s appreciated— Oh, and you’ve already walked away. Okay.”

It’s a lot of that, on repeat.

You see from twenty feet away, amidst the crowds, Uncle Jimmy walking towards your bar, and when he waves all friendly, he sees your glower, and opts to turn in the other direction. Smart man. No wonder he’s successful.

Richie swings by your bar, waiting at the corner, where the line hasn’t congregated. You don’t need to be shaking this martini for as long as you are, but it’s a good way to look like you’re working when you’re just trying to talk to Richie. He presents his serving tray to you. “Tiny quiche?”

You open your mouth, hands full with your shaker. He gets the point, stabbing a toothpick into the appetizer and shoving it in your mouth. Oh God, food is beautiful. Food is what sustains. You could write a full book of poetry right now about why food is everything. Well, not everything. You’re still in hell.

“Richie, I’m dying, your job can’t be that important, come be barback.” You pour out the martini. You attempt to open the jar of olives by yourself, when you struggle, Richie puts his tray down and grabs the jar from you.

Thankfully for your pride, he’s also struggling with it. Plus, it gives you time to annihilate the tray of quiches. He shakes his head, his job is important, allegedly. “You want me to starve guests?”

“Ideally? Yes.” You ignore the dirty looks you get from eavesdropping patrons. He hands you the opened jar. You take a toothpick from his tray, since you’re already out of yours, pierce an olive, toss it in the martini, and pass it to someone— Quite frankly, there’s every chance that’s not the guy that ordered the dirty martini, but he takes it, so who gives a fuck.

Richie sighs, he does want to help. “I’ll ask kitchen if they can cut someone.”

Thank fucking God. “Ask Marcus, he’s got mixology experience or some shit.” You remember being occasionally impressed by his verbiage— At the very least, he knows what stuff is back here, and that’s enough for you.

Richie just shakes his head, lips in a line, when you mention Marcus. A universal sign that something has gone horrifically wrong. You furrow your brows, immediately worried, leaning forward. “What happened?”

“Excuse me! What’s it take to get a long-island iced tea around here? This open bar is not very open!”

You and Richie both grimace, at the thick Jersey accent on this woman waving her hand hysterically at your bar. He gives you a nod, already taking his empty tray and starting to walk back to the kitchen. “I’ll ask.”

You turn your body to the woman, but head still to Richie. “Don’t ask. Tell.”

Not even five minutes pass, before you get a barrage of texts, from multiple people, all at once. You watch them flood in on the notification screen of your phone laying on the counter, while shaking up a cosmo, this time.

From Marcus, worrying. ‘sorrysorysorrybakkingemergencymbmmbmb’

From Syd, concerning. ‘couldn’t stop him lmk if it’s bad’

From Richie, alarming. ‘yk how to call your dog right’

But it all makes sense, when Carmen comes up to your bar, removing his apron. “You need a barback?”

Hair is normal. Not at its best, not how you taught him, but it’s better than before. He smells excessively like you; like accidentally used half the bottle levels like you. Maybe not an accident. Don’t read into it, too much— They’re almost certainly the only travel sized bottles he had on hand. Of course he’d take them. He smells like Old Spice, too, though. Don’t read into it. He looks tired. You knew he would. You’ve watched his location, every day. By the time you go to bed each night, he’s only just left The Bear. He deserves to feel tired, he was a fucking asshole, and you’re glad your cat ate just short of all of his flowers.

But you brought in the plate, the next morning. You cleaned it, and then hid it in the back of your dishwasher. You wanted it to be safe, you also just didn’t want to look at it or think about it or have it exist in your mind, at all. That’s half the reason you couldn’t let it perch outside your window anymore. Taunting you. He’s a piece of shit, but you can feel it in your chest; the care you cannot get rid of. The desire to ask are you okay? Have you been sleeping? How are you? How’s your week been? Want a hug? Have you been playing Connections? What did I do wrong? Did you need me? Did anything break? Did you break?

You missed him. Was the radio silence relieving? Yes. Preferably, you’d never acknowledge each other for the rest of your lives besides an eventual wire transfer. Preferably, he’d stay in the back of your dishwasher for the rest of your life. But God, you missed him, this week. You’ll probably miss him for the rest of your life. Is that toxic? You’re working on it. No you’re not… He just made every space easier to breathe in, kept a light on, for you. Not at the end, but he did before. Before he figured out that he hates you.

It’s a thing that everyone says about you, that you bring ease, and whether you can confirm or deny that, who’s to say— But you know Carmen does it for you. Lights up a room for you. And you might be alone in that feeling, but that’s okay with you. Or it was. It was, before he figured out he should hate you.

Oh, shit, you’ve been staring at him in silence for way too long. It’s hard to know how to navigate this. You don’t know how to feel, so you don’t know how to act either. It’s all a weird state of limbo that you desperately want to get out of, but don’t want to do any of the work required to do so. What do you do with your hands? Your body? Your voice? Are you supposed to be funny and nice still? Christ, just say something. What’d he ask, again? Can’t remember.

“Uh…” Still can’t remember, but— “What’s happening with Marcus?”

He seems to falter, slightly, but he comes into your bar, oh right, barback. You needed a barback. He exchanges his kitchen apron for a bar apron. Not used to seeing him wear all black. You wish you could enjoy it. Wish you could say it’s cool watching him act as one of your professions. He answers, as he ties the strings around his waist. “Uber dropped their wedding cake.”

Fuck whatever tension you two have. You nearly fold over in shock. The current track on the speakers fades out, right as you yell back, “They dropped their fucking wedd—!?”

With haste, Carmen puts the palm of his hand over your mouth. Knife tattoo hand. Oh, he missed being this close to you. Not the point here, though. “Shhhhhhh…!”

You relax, he removes his hand, you’re annoyed that you wish he didn’t. You whisper, though it’s still screeching in tone. “They dropped their fucking wedding cake?”

He nods, combing his hair back with his hand. Knife tattoo hand. It’s making your shampoo waft. You both notice it. He stops. “Marcus is remaking one, now.”

“From scratch?” You were right to be so worried; Richie was right to make the face he did. Carmen tilts his head back and forth. “Box mix that he’s finessing—”

You finish the sentence with him, “—Because he’s Marcus.” The king of doing too much, especially when there’s no time for it. It’s his best and worst trait.

He nods, smiling just slightly, but not the typical smile you get from him. Timid. “Yeah, so he’s locked in, but I’m here.”

Simple sentence, but it still schisms your brain. You cannot help but feel a distrust of it. “Shouldn’t you be running the back, though?” Keeping his kitchen in order? Being the Exec in his head?

He shakes his head. “They run a tight ship without me just fine.” The first lesson you gave to him, that that’s a good thing. Is this conversation hitting specific pain points on purpose as a punishment from God or is this just how all your conversations are going to feel, from now on?

Probably both. You nod. “Okay.” You do need a barback.

“This is so cute, girl, and I love love but I’m gonna need that Cosmo like yesterday.” Why did this woman have to say love? That would already be terrible if you were good right now. Carmen’s probably not the type of guy to say the L word for like several months anyways. You’re not even dating anyways— Or weren’t? Can you use past-tense on something that never was?

You hand her the Cosmo, and you both pretend you never heard her.

Running bar with Carmen makes your life infinitely easier, though albeit tenser. He hasn’t done this before, but he’s watched previous bar staff from the sidelines— And one of his best traits is how quick he catches on to things. He’s not confident enough to mix drinks, but everything else, he does just fine.

“Behind.” There’re occasional autopilot moments that make you laugh, though. He snaps back into his body, when you do, moving next to you. He tilts his head, “What, you don’t say behind?”

You shrug, and it feels normal, for a second. “Professionals probably do, I’ve never worked in a place that does, though.”

“But what about when you’re holdin’ shit?” You allow yourself to feel normal, for a second. It is a delight to teach him something about your work. You continue to make drinks and hand off orders, all while you both speak. It reminds you of the domestic flow you were both so used to doing. That was so easy for you both to fall into. It’s nice that it somehow hasn’t gone away.

“So, you know when you’re in the kitchen, or here, behind bar, you get like, really fucking hot?” Don’t let that entendre stay doubled— “Like sweaty?”

“Mhm?”

You hold onto your chilled shaker, stepping behind him, “So, we don’t say behind, we—” and press it just under the back of his neck. He shivers, immediately, full shock running through his system. “Do that.”

“Christ!”

You want to enjoy the moment, but you can’t help but remember him calling you a modern-day saviour. You try to push it down, but the warmth you were starting to feel tones down, quite a bit. You manage to keep him from noticing, manage to keep the smile on. “What, don’t like it? It’s nice!”

“Think it’s a safety concern, f’sure.”

“Call OSHA.” You touch the shaker to his face, before going to pour it. He laughs. Actually laughs. You wish that made you feel good, still. And somewhere, in some corner of yourself, it still does. But not like it did before.

Soon enough, you two get a second of reprieve, as Vinnie’s Best Man gets up to do his speech, or whatever. He uses a knife to clink his glass, and of course, it fucking shatters. You’re half-mad, because technically for the night, those are your glasses, but it’s too funny to actually give a shit. Plus, the Best Man gets a pass tonight, in your book, because one, he understood protocol and got a vodka cran from you, and two, his speech is forcing everyone to sit down and leave y’all the fuck alone.

“Beautiful night, beautiful couple, beautiful people— Couldn’t ask for a better weddin’ for my best friend— But let’s be honest, I didn’t think he’d be gettin’ a wedding at all— Aye! This guy Vin, amirite?”

You take this moment to halve your protein bar from Carmen. You wordlessly hand the other half to him. He shakes his head. “M’Good, you eat.”

You shove it towards him. You know he hasn’t eaten much, you don’t know how, but you just know. “I’ve eaten twelve tiny quiches and a beef sandwich, Carm, take the fuckin’ granola.”

He breathes heavily through his nose, but he takes it. You both watch the Best Man, quietly eating your halves. He is silently overjoyed at the verbal confirmation you ate the sandwich.

“I don’t need to introduce my goddamn self, I’m sure my reputation precedes me, right? But I’m Leo, I’m my boy’s Best Man, and I just couldn’t be more honoured, y’know? We grew up together, playin’ stickball in the Bronx, and now this guy’s marryin’ one of the most wonderful women in the world? And I get to be here? Man, I love ya.”

As cranky as you’ve been all night, this really is a gorgeous wedding. More often than not, the guests are nice, it’s just that the shit ones stick out in your head like nails to be hammered. Vinnie and Mira seem like a good couple. You wonder if you’ll ever get to have a wedding like this. They commissioned one of those painters to do a live painting, too. Always wanted one of those. And they’ve got little gift bags for the guests. You’re taking notes, internally, of what you like here, what you’d want to do for your own.

You wish you and Carmen were talking, right now. Despite the fact that Leo’s voice is booming throughout the hall’s speakers, the silence between you feels deafening, because you both know that you would be talking right now, if you weren’t living in fucking limbo. You need to work. You need something to do. The ice basket is running low, refilling it will take at least two minutes and maybe holding the ice will shock your nervous system.

You grab a bag of ice from the freezer behind you both, Carmen pretends to be listening to the speech, because he doesn’t feel like he has the right to help you with the weight. You cut the bag, emptying huge chunks of ice into the basket. You ball up the plastic in your hands to throw out; you nod to Carmen. “Can you break the ice?”

He seems surprised, taking a second, before nodding, crossing and uncrossing his arms. “I owe you an apology—”

“Oh, no!” You hastily correct. “No— Yes but no— I— I meant—” You hand him the metal scooper, nodding to the clumped-up ice you just poured out. “I meant can you break the literal ice blocks?”

Carmen wishes he has dead. And you can both tell that. “Yes. Yes— Yeah, f’sure, one-hundred— Course. Heard.” You nod back, pensive, throwing the plastic bag out, staring straight ahead, trying to refocus on Leo again. You can’t.

Carmen beats the ice, softly, so as to not make a noticeable noise for the audience. After a few seconds, he returns to his point. “…I do owe you an apology, though—”

“Don’t even worry about it, Carmen.” You don’t say this. Fak does. He sidles up to the bar. Where he keeps apparating from and hearing your conversations, you’re really not sure. “I’ve got this one.”

Neither you or Carmen know what Fak thinks he’s got, here, but you’re both too intrigued or surprised to stop him. Well, Carmen does give it a fair shot, after a second, “Fak, I’m—”

“Nono—” But there’s simply no chance. “I appreciate you trying to fix my problems for me, but y’know, I can handle myself, Carmen.” …You wish that’s what Carmen said, last Friday, instead of calling himself your charity tax write-off.

Fak pivots to you, sighing, shrugging, hands up, as if you know as well as he does what the fuck he’s about to say. You can’t tell if you’re supposed to be scared right now or not. When you don’t say anything, he starts, “Alright, I guess I’m the one that's brave enough to say it, there’s some major tension here.”

Now why does Fak think he’s the one to acknowledge this. Quite frankly, why is Fak here? Is he working, too? On what exactly? You don’t remember seeing him on the plane, either. Was he a part of the road trip? Dear God, that's a nightmare third wheel. You just let out a, “Huh?”

“Oh, come on, you haven’t shown up at The Bear since last Friday—” You’re now remembering that before the fight of all fights broke out that night, Fak ran out of the kitchen. Guess no one filled him in, after. “And like, this week, when something broke—” He nods to Carmen, who grimaces, hand over his face. “Carmy told me to fix it, instead of calling you, like he’d usually.”

You know you’re not allowed to be upset about that, and yet, you really fucking are. You’re Carmen’s fucking fixer. Or were? Fuck. Christ, are you jealous of Fak now? You turn your gaze just slightly to Carmen, who’s leaning over the counter, propping his head up on his hands. “What broke?”

He answers briefly. “Expo clock.”

It was extremely apt and even more upsetting for him, the way time literally stopped, when you left. When he made you leave.

You tuck your hands in your pockets, looking back to Fak. “You fix it?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.” Carmen stands back up, opening his mouth to intercept, Fak puts a hand in front of his face. “No Carm, I’ve gotta tell her the truth…” What.

“Tony…” Neil sighs, unable to make eye contact, at this moment. “I was really harsh on you, that Friday…”

“…Huh?” The fucking degree thing? Is that what he’s talking about? You honestly can’t remember anything before Carmen, from that night.

“You don’t need to hide your pain.” He nods solemnly, “I— I’m just gonna say it… I know it’s hard to believe, but I was… jealous.”

“I know.”

He ignores that you’ve said this entirely, “I know, I know, it’s crazy. Me? Jealous? But yeah, I was really good at hiding it, but you’re just really like smart, Tony, y’know? And everyone was like— Tony can fix this— Tony can fix that— And I was holding it together, but then you were good at serving, too. And it got to me— And obviously Carmen could tell, so he stopped calling you. Trying to be a true bro.”

Oh, Fak really doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, huh? “Of course there’s like, the other obvious tension in the room—” Oh okay, so he does know— “Between us.” What.

“What’s up?” You blink, voice going high for a second. Carmen cannot stop staring at Fak, face entirely unmoving, unblinking. Neither of you are sure what emotion to feel right now. Is Leo’s speech still fucking going? You’ve completely tuned it out, if it is.

Fak gestures to the air between you two. “Well like, there’s obviously a really intense sort of rivals to romance dynamic happening here…”

What.

“And like,” He raises his hands, in defense— Of what exactly? You couldn’t be less sure. “I could totally see that happening, in the future.”

It takes everything in you, to just hold your lips closed together. You have to bite down on your top lip, to not scream laugh in his face. “For sure, man.”

He nods, continuing, “But right now, I just don’t think I’m ready to take what you’re giving, y’know?” Holy shit, wait, is that how Carmen feels? Is that what the fuck is going on in his head? “Just not ready for all—” He gestures to you in general. “This.”

“Little harsh.” You tilt your head. “Fuckin’ cool it, Fak.” Carmen barks, in tandem with you. Oh, he’s upset. He wasn’t set on his emotions, this entire time, but he seems to have now settled in the upset category.

“Right.” Fak nods. “And so, I’m sorry I can’t be that for you… And I know it’s gonna take time to recover, but please come back to The Bear, when you’re ready. You’re… You’re a better repairman than me. We need you.”

You put a hand over your mouth, to cover your shit eating grin, trying your best to compose yourself and look sad. The best way out of this is to just agree with him. It’d take far too much energy to clarify everything for Fak. You’re nodding too much. “…Yeah, y’know, Fak… I will consider that. All those words you said? I’m gonna… Gonna really take all of it to heart, dude. I really appreciate… The directness— Y’know, that takes… Strength, man.”

“Thank you.” He nods. “Still friends?”

You did not realize you were even friends to start. And not in the insecure way, this time. You nod. “For sure, dude.”

You and Carmen both watch him walk away, in perplexed silence. Carm’s the first to break it. “…Was that anything—” “Obviously fucking not.”

He’s going to reply something witty in response, and it’s going to make you both feel like everything’s okay, again, but then he seems to see something that scares him straight. He turns to the back of the bar, aimlessly grabbing bottles, for no reason. Literally no reason, everyone sat for the speeches, what’s he doing—?

“You still serving?” Older man, oval glasses. He stands in front of your bar. Ah. Kinda rude of him, maybe that’s why Carmen’s giving the cold shoulder to this guy? Whatever. You'll serve him. Just because you're Chicago's Kindest doesn't mean everyone else has to be.

“Yessir, what can I fix for you?”

“Manhattan with bourbon?”

You salute, “Aye aye.” And get to mixing the drink. You’re pretty sure Carmen must know this guy, because he’s already set out the bourbon, vermouth, and angostura. It doesn’t take long to fix the drink.

When you go to hand it to the man, he seems to notice the mop of blond curls behind you. “Aye, Carmen? Jimmy told me you’d be workin’ tonight.”

A small, tentative, meek wave from Carmen. He sniffs. “Yeah. Hi, Uncle Lee.”

“Oh.” Is all you can say. Pulling the drink away from his hand, as Uncle Lee reaches for it. “You’re Uncle Lee?”

“My reputation precedes me?” He chuckles, nodding.

Carmen comes up beside you, and witnesses a smile from you that he’s never seen from you, and ideally hopes will never be directed at him. It’s the slowness of it, it’s a smile, but you’re doing it purely to bare your teeth.

“It sure does.” Give him a chance, it’s been four years, give him a chance. “I was a friend of Mikey’s.”

He fails the chance. “Ah… I see, friend, ya did a little—” He taps the side of his nose, sniffing. “Together?”

He really fucking fails the chance. Your smile grows, painfully so. The apples of your cheeks so high they practically close your eyes for you. You laugh a deeply fake laugh. “Hahaha, yeah, yeah, that’s exactly what we used to do. Uncle Lee.”

“Oh!” You tilt your wrist quickly, pouring the bourbon Manhattan in the bar sink. “Ah, fuck. Hand slipped.”

Lee is a bit taken aback. “Really—?”

“Really.” You repeat. Putting the glass down. “And y’know, I could remake that for you, but I dunno if you wanna trust my shaky junkie hands.”

Holy fuck. Carmen has always been great at keeping his reactions hidden, and still is, so Uncle Lee cannot tell how out of character this is, of you. You’re nice, you don’t bite— Or Carmy didn’t think you did, because of the amount of grace you gave him, last Friday.

“Lee, I’m gonna level with you.” You cross your arms, smile fading, but there’s still that venomous lilt in your voice. “I’ve been thinking for the last, I dunno, two years, what I’d say to you, if I had the displeasure of seeing you.”

There’s a pile of forks behind your bar, that you’d asked Richie for, just in case this situation came to a head. Just in case this fucking idiot came by. But it just doesn’t feel right, now. Doesn't feel right to leap over the counter and stab him in the neck with a fork. Though you've imagined it, and you still actively are.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, looking around the venue. “But we’re at this beautiful wedding, and Vinnie and Mira don’t deserve to have their reception ruined by us causing a scene.” You gesture to the air between you, almost comical.

He shrugs, “Better than Mikey, in that regard, then.” You know what he’s referring to, despite not being there.

You nod, smiling real big now, really baring your teeth, now. “His fuckin’ house, Lee.”

“I could have your ass fired, y’know.” “So do it.”

You lean forward, elbows on the counter. “I’m not getting paid for this. Please, get me fired. Snitch to Uncle J, c’mon, fire me. I’m delighted to get cut. Do it.”

After what feels like eons of a silent stare down, Uncle Lee throws a fake punch. Carmen’s the only one that flinches, immediately rearing his own fist back, stopping short when Lee does.

You’re still just coy, elbows on the counter. Lee scoffs, “Cokehead.” Of course.

“Yessir.” You just lightly shake your head, standing up straight again, smiling, amused, delighted, even. “That’s me. That’s who I am.” It’s not, but there’s no point in arguing with him— Especially when you agreeing just seems to piss him off more.

You’ve given Lee nothing to work with, to insult you, so it takes him a moment to generate something. “You’re—”

You don’t let him get it out, putting a hand up for him to give it a rest. “Lee, I’m not startin’ a scene, it’s a gorgeous wedding.”

“Oh, how grown of you—” “But, if you wanna have a scene, just wait in the parking lot.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You really think—” “I do. I do think, Lee.”

You lean forward, again, shrugging, speaking nonchalant, speaking with your hands, casually. “I wanna make it so clear, for you, too. I’m not gonna crack my knuckles, not gonna make some empty threats, not gonna scream in your face— I’m not gonna tell you I’m gonna kill you or anything like that. Because obviously, I wouldn’t do that.”

You nod, slowly, methodically, clearly. “What I am gonna say, is that I have been a bartender on and off since I was twenty-one. I was an E-M-T, for three years— All in our beautiful city of Chicago, Illinois. The sheer volume of geriatric white guys I have had to pull to the concrete in a full nelson in both professions— Insurmountable, Lee. So again, to be, so fucking clear, Lee— If I see you outside, I’m taking you to the fucking pavement, and I’m not getting off.”

Uncle Lee’s got no comeback, for this, but he’d be dead in the ground before he just lets someone have the last word. This is why Uncle Jimmy is more successful. “Oh, I’m sure you fuckin’ would.”

You grin. God, those forks are tempting. Resist. You keep your hands busy by grabbing a maraschino cherry from it's jar behind your bar to snack on. “Enjoy your night, Lee.”

“You’re a real fuckin’ bi—” A fork flies over his shoulder, clattering behind him. Not from you, from Carmen.

He speaks for you. “Enjoy your night, Uncle Lee.”

It feels good to be backed. Carmen’s here, and he’s on your team. You tack on, waving goodbye to the fucker, “Back lot, Uncle Lee.”

Lee pivots his gaze to Carmen, he rolls his eyes, disappointed. “Alright, Donna.”

Carmen goes for another fork, you stop his hand, holding it there, for a second. The metal clatters behind the counter. Lee’s pleased enough with the provocation. Men like him don’t leave until they’ve won something in their heads. He leaves, on his way to the punch bowl, since he’s determined he’s not getting shit from the bar tonight. You and Carmen just watch him, like prey, making sure he leaves without looking back.

“You’ve got teeth.” Carmen’s first to speak, cleaning a glass, both of you looking straight ahead. You nod.

“I do.”

“You don’t bite much.”

You shrug. “Try not to.”

Carmen considers the fact that what he wants to say would mean sticking his foot in his mouth. He then considers the fact that nothing he could say now will ever be worse than what he said then. He keeps rubbing away at a perfectly shining glass.

“You didn’t bite me.”

“I didn’t.” You nod, and your body goes on autopilot, as you start making a drink no one’s ordered. Just need something to do. “I couldn’t.”

He doesn’t like that answer. “I deserved it.”

“I deserved it, too.” You’re not a big fan of your own answer, either. But you can’t say it’s not true. You deserved it. Just some failure leech trying to reattach yourself to people through merry good deeds, as if they’d add up to fucking anything—

“No, you didn’t.” He pivots to you, tone inarguable. He puts the glass down. It’s a lowball, you need a lowball, you grab it from him.

“Do you like cognac or vodka?” You ignore his words, but you look him in the eyes. You regret it.

He lets you get away with it, because he is absolutely not the one allowed to lead the conversation, here. He did enough bulldozing, before.

“I dunno, I don’t really drink much.” You squint, you’ve seen his apartment. He clarifies. “Other than wine n’ beer.”

You nod. You opt for cognac. He watches you, for a moment, before asking. “What’re you—”

You’re already finished, by this point, sliding the glass over to him. “Black lavender latte. Cognac n’ coffee liqueur. If it’s too strong, let me know, I can add more milk.”

“Thank you, Chef.” Is all he can think to say. He takes a sip. It’s far behind in his long list of regrets, but certainly one of them in the way he spoke to you, is that there’s a strong chance he will never have a mixologist as talented as you working at The Bear.

“Hmm.” You hum, not watching him drink it, because you won’t be able to handle either reaction— You won’t be able to handle disgust nor pleasure. You never want to look at Carmen again. He’s also all you want to see. This sucks. You suck. Carmen sucks.

“Thank you for the coffee earlier, too.” You’re overjoyed at the verbal confirmation he drank it.

“Figured you’d need one.”

“I did.” He thinks about it, and decides to take the bullet. “Needed yours.”

Your breath hitches, and he can’t tell whether or not that’s a good thing. He doesn’t get the chance to ask, as a meek and overly sweaty man comes up to your bar. There are bar stools at your counter, though they’ve been tucked far under it to keep the flow of traffic moving. But the man points down to the stool, silently asking. You nod.

“You can sit, sir.”

He’s delighted. He sits. “Sorry, I’m not gonna sit long, I just uh— Just—” He turns around pointing to the Maid of Honour, who’s just gotten on the hot mic for her speech. “I uhm, it’s— Usually the bar is empty, when uh, when people are talking.”

“That they are.” You nod, smile soft. “Can I get anything for you, or d’you just wanna sit? No shame in that.”

“I— I, uh, if it’s not a bother— I was just wonderin’ if uhm— Totally fine, if it’s— If it is— Do uhm, do you— Do you do mocktails?”

Carmen watches you grow ten times softer, in demeanor. It’s wonderful, how you’re able to flip on a dime. It’s wonderful what you’re willing to give to people, when they deserve it. You nod. “Yeah, sir. What’s your drink?”

“Oh— I— Anything’s fine, really.” He plays with the loose strings on the cuff of his left sleeve.

You tilt your head, recognizing his nervousness. “If it’s not too personal, sir, are you…” You debate the best way to say it. “Taking twelve steps?”

He looks scared, initially, to be caught; but then he looks at your face, and he knows he has nothing to be worried about. He nods. “One— Two months, two weeks, one day.”

“That’s huge.”

He shrugs. “It’s a start.”

“A start is huge.” You emphasize, and he nods, because that’s inarguable. “What was your drink before? I can make a mocktail of that— Or maybe you’d prefer somethin’ total opposite?”

“Oh! Yeah, I uh, I liked uh, old-fashioneds, but you can’t really make those without whiskey—”

“Yeah, you can.” You’re already grabbing your shaker. “You just use barley tea. I can do that— If you want that.”

He thinks on it, for a second. Debates whether nostalgia is good or not. “Yeah, yeah I’d like that.”

While you work on it, the guy feels enough confidence, bestowed by you, to tell you about himself. “I liked sitting. That was the thing I liked about drinking. The sitting and the talking and the feeling good about it.”

“I hear that.” You watch the tea steep, nodding. “Reason why the phrase is ‘takes the edge off’.”

Carmen has to turn around. He’s listening intently, but he has to turn around. Again, he’s pretty good at hiding his tells, but you’re pretty good at reading them. And you’d be able to tell his flat expression is the equivalent of being absolutely fucking bug eyed on anyone else. You’re a bartender. You were a paramedic. You have seen so many people, on their worst day— Seen so many people like this guy, like his brother. You have taken care of so many addicts.

The number of times he said loser or junkie to your face, and the way that that was what you always fought back on. It will not stop replaying, in Carmen’s head. The way you think that wasn’t okay, but the way he spoke about you was. It’s all just nauseating. You’re so good to everyone but you. You defend everyone but you. Carmen's almost furious about this, though he doesn't feel he has the right to be. You should've treated him like Uncle Lee. He acted exactly like Uncle Lee.

“It can make it easier, to be at the bar, for some people, I've found.” You continue, still making conversation with the man as you stir the steeped tea into the glass, over ice. “Makes you feel normal.” Forced sobriety is definitely in the top five, of the most ostracizing human experiences.

He nods, relieved to have someone. “Most people don’t get that.”

You nod, strain out the virgin old-fashioned, and push the glass to him across the counter. “Well, I get that.”

He takes a sip of the mocktail, it’s perfectly nostalgic in a way that doesn’t hurt. “Thank you.” He’s thanking you for a lot more than the drink.

“A pleasure.” You nod. He stands up, tucking the stool back under the counter, as the speeches end. It won’t be long until the bar is crowded again, and he knows it’ll be too much, for him or you. You add. “Good luck with month three. It's a heavy one.”

“If you work it and you’re worth it.” He recites the line incorrectly on purpose, it’s an important one, but you both still laugh at it. Like an inside joke, practically. You give one quick dap, he puts a twenty in your tip jar, and walks off, with less sweat, and more spring in his step, this time. Good.

When he walks away, before guests start to stand, there’s a lull of silence. You don’t need to look at Carmen to know he has a million different thoughts, and a million more follow ups.

“You have questions?”

“None of my business.” He sniffs, awkwardly. “Unless you want it to be.”

Why did he have to fucking say it like that. Why did he have to put the ball in your court. Carmen fucking sucks. Y’know what, no, turn it on his ass.

“Did you give the New York Exec my number?”

“No.” The reply is instant. He doesn’t get thrown by the topic change in the slightest. You were pretty sure you knew the answer, but the speed of it is still a little surprising. Like it wasn’t something that was ever up for debate.

“What’d you say to him, then?”

This is when he looks embarrassed, just slightly. This part was up for debate, seemingly. “We—”

“Everyone, please stay in your seats for just a moment, our wonderful catering crew will be coming around to serve you!” Says… Vinnie’s mom? Mira’s mom? They all kind of blend together. It’s not long after this, that Syd rolls by with Marcus and a cart of food. She’s starting with you, despite the fact that you’re not a guest. Sweetie.

“Salmon or chicken?”

“Just gimme both, we’ll split it.” You nod your head to Carmen. “Best of both worlds.”

And then, the game of eye contact conversation ensues. A game that Carmen nor Marcus can comprehend.

‘I asked you’ Syd glares.

‘You can’t just starve him out’ You deadpan.

‘Who said?’

“Syd.” You say aloud. She sighs, handing you both plates, mumbling ‘whatevers’, walking off to serve the actual guests. No time to bicker. You look to Marcus, worried. “Heard about the cake, how’s it goin?”

He shrugs but he’s smirking, proud and bad at hiding it, he hands you a paper plate with a little chocolate cupcake. The floral frosting job is simple, and you know if he had more time, you’d probably be looking at a full realistic rose, but it’s still beautiful. “You tell me. Taste test.”

“Lil sacrilege, to do dessert before dinner, but okay.” You grab a fork from your pile, digging in. “Oh fuck,” You have to laugh. “Marcus— You stress me the fuck out, how do you have time to make shit this good?”

It’s a built-in habit for you, to hand your fork to Carmen. He gives you a moment to realize or pull back. You should but you don’t. He takes it, thankful, and tries the cupcake for himself.

“S’fire, Chef.” He points the fork, emphatically. “‘Specially with what you had.”

“Thank you, Chef.” Marcus nods.

You tilt your head, curious, “Do you even have time to test, though? If this sucked you wouldn’t have time to remake the full cake anyways, would you?”

“No.” He answers bluntly, and you both snort. He adds, “Just wanted to make sure you got dessert, over here.” Just wanted to make sure you ate something.

“Marcus…” You pout, overcome by the sweetness of the sweets Chef. You’ve gotta return the favour. “Gin and juice still your go-to?”

“You tryna get me fucked up at work?”

You shrug, grinning. “Are you tryna get fucked up at work?”

He’s going to say yes, but then he pauses, and looks to his boss. Looks to Carmen. Ah, you don’t run his kitchen— Get that through your head. Of course, Marcus can’t just drink—

Carmen shrugs, smiling, “Are you tryna get fucked up at work, Chef?”

Marcus claps his hands, grinning. “Yessir!”

That makes you feel a little lighter. You nod. “Gin and juice, comin’ up.”

You pour out the pineapple juice— Marcus’ preferred juice, of course you remembered. And Marcus leans over the bar, to watch you stir in the gin, even if it’s just a stupid simple drink, the guy loves to learn.

He asks, “How much they payin’ you, tonight?”

You shake your head, “Tips. Nothin’ else.”

Carmen’s ears burn, at that, while he evenly divides and plates out the salmon and chicken plates so you both have a little of everything. If things were normal you could just eat off each other's plates.

Marcus tilts his head, just as surprised. “You in debt, too?”

“Just to Mikey.” You smile, shaking your head. “No, I’m doin’ this in exchange for Uncle J getting me out of work early, a couple weeks back.”

“That’s it?”

“I was in a rush.” You shrug, measuring out the simple syrup. “Got like thirty missed texts from Syd, I thought someone fuckin’ died, didn’t have time to bargain.”

“Wait—” Marcus cannot help but grin, nearly laughing, at the ridiculousness of it, at how bad you got fucked over, by your own permission. “You’re here because you… left work… to go deliver Nat’s baby?”

“Yessir.” Are you fucking serious? Carmen can’t help but stare at the side of your head, for just a few seconds, before going back down to the plates. You’re in this hellscape of a bar, three states from your home, because you were delivering his niece? You did that for them already, and promised yourself for this, in order to do that?

“You know me,” You hand Marcus his glass, and you shouldn’t make the joke, but you can’t help yourself. “Modern day Christ.”

Marcus stifles down his snort, turning his head away from Carmen, to look at the ground. You do the same. There is something painful, about it all, for everyone; but Carmen can’t say that pain isn’t deserved, on his end, so he takes it. You’re allowed to joke about it all you want, if that’s what it takes for you to feel lighter.

A timer goes off on Marcus’ phone. He takes a sip from his gin and juice, nodding in approval, “Oh, shit— Alright, cool times up—” He lifts the glass to you, you hurriedly get the point and grab a random empty cup to clink with him, cheers.

“I’ll be back.” He says. Doubtful, you think. But you nod and wave him off nonetheless.

“If T needs a drink, tell her to take five.” You haven’t seen her tonight, but you realize yourself, again, once you say this. Not your kitchen. “Uh— If that’s, that’s okay—”

“Tell Chef to take a break if she needs it, we haven’t seen her.” Says Carmen, beside you. We. Don’t read into it. He hates you, and you hate him, actually. Carmen sucks, and so do you.

Marcus nods, and makes his mad dash off as a tsunami of guests that have just gotten their plates decide now that they want a drink with their meal. Sonofabitch.

God, you need a break. It’s really hitting you, and your stomach. As full as everyone’s tried to keep you, you really need to just sit down and have your fucking plate. Working behind a bar is a nightmare on the feet and back— Your earrings feel heavy, and your bracelets feel like handcuffs. It’s just all too much, without a break. You need a nap and maybe a thirty-minute session of just staring at a wall.

But the tsunami.

Carmen watches your side profile, and thinking back in his head, the collage of memories forming your face— He’s never seen you genuinely fatigued before. He’s seen you in the middle of the night, he’s seen you caught off guard, seen you distressed— But you’ve never really been one to ask for a break. It’s always yes of course it’s done, with you. It’s your best and worst trait.

As the crowd closes in, and your face morphs into a smile, ready to serve, Carmen claps his hands together, calling out to the sea. “Ey, sorry everyone, we’re just gonna take a quick thirty, alright? Union mandated.”

There is no such thing as a Bartender’s Union, you and Carmen very well know that. You’re about to call it off and say it’s fine before someone can throw an empty glass at your head or something, but instead, a scrawny but wide built, deeply New York Italian man, at the front of the crowd nods.

And as he nods, the crowd groans. He looks deeply offended by this. He turns to his fellow guests. “Where do y’all get off? We fought for those thirty-minute breaks, you fucks!” This quiets them pretty quickly. “We can live with the fuckin’ punch bowl for thirty minutes, c’mon.”

Carmen gets close enough to whisper to you, but far enough that it’s still not personal. Far enough that he still hates you. “Most of the family does or did service work. Say ‘union mandated’ and you can do anythin’”

You smile, watching the crowd dissipate, you crack a joke, because that’s probably what you’re supposed to do. “Union mandated… Murder?”

“Revolt, y’mean?” “Is that an offer?” “I’d ride for you.”

It’s supposed to be light and fun, but you can’t stop yourself, you can’t play the part and it comes out. “Would you?”

That one hurts. It all hurts, but that one really gets Carmen. That you’d have genuine reason to have pause about his dedication to you. Not your fault, his.

You grab your plate from his side of the counter, embarrassed by your instinctual prod. “Sorry.”

He’s not embarrassed by his. “Stop apologizing.”

There’s a heavy silence, before Carmen adds, “I’m supposed to be fuckin’ apologizing.”

There are no more interruptions. Fak isn’t going to come by, patrons are leaving you be, the staff is either helping Marcus or serving food. There is nothing left, to interrupt you two. This is going to happen. Christ, why does Never Let Me Down Again have to be playing right now? That’s not a fucking wedding song. This is too dramatic and simultaneously awkward and clunky and bad. There is no somethings left for you to do. There is nothing left to do, but talk. Nothing left to do but escape the void, ideally together. Please let it be together. You hate to admit it, but you want it to be together.

There is no good place to sit. So, you pick up your plate, and one of the many forks from your pile. With a sigh, you crouch down, and slide yourself underneath the counter, sitting with your legs folded, so Carmen can join you. You nod to him, to let him know that he can in fact join you.

He does. You take a few bites, in silence, before he breaks it.

“I didn’t mean a fuckin’ word.”

“It’s okay if you did.” You can’t look up from your plate. You deserved it.

He says your name, with a severity, to it. “—I didn’t mean a fucking word.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“I—” Despite rehearsing what he wanted to say, and having ample stage to say it, he does not know how to say any of it, anymore. “I was like, like, jealous? But not in the— Not in the normal way.”

“Normal way?”

“Like, I didn’t— Well I did— But I like—” He puts his fork down, “I saw you as competition.”

You don’t know what to say, and so he keeps going. “I saw you like… Like being so perfect at everything, and being so… Being so what everyone needed, and you being there, and and— I felt so… the way you can just do that— Like— Like you can just be you and it just works. And I just fucking can’t.”

A talent you share with his brother. A talent Carmen envied in Mikey, and thus, envies in you.

“And then I got so… weird about that thought. Like you being you is— You’re for everyone. And I got this idea in my head that…” He cringes, trying to find better wording in his head for it, and he can’t. “That you were for me.”

“But you’re not for me—” “Ouch.” “—Not what I meant.”

He thanks you, internally, for being willing to add levity, right now. “I lo— I like you, so much. And I don’t want you to change. If you were like…” He half gestures to himself, which you’re not a big fan of the deprecation, but you let it slide. “Cold, and not for anyone, you wouldn’t be… you.”

Carmen realized as much, watching you tonight. Watching you interact with full strangers to long time friends. If you were callus, you wouldn’t be you. If you didn’t love his family as much as he did, he wouldn’t have attached himself to you, so quickly. He loves the way that you love. The way that you can’t turn it off. It’s not that Carmen isn’t special. It’s that you are so fucking special. He’s fucking stupid for not connecting those dots, earlier.

He picks up his fork again, needing to do something with his hands. Your brows remain furrowed, as you try to walk back how he spiraled from what and where.

“So, you just wanted to take me down a peg?”

He shakes his head. “It— I— With Mikey, I— I saw some shit that made me think that I was just… fillin’ a gap, or you were just being so good to me out of like… Guilt.” He chews down on his salmon. “And I couldn’t find your fuckin’ invoice, so I just kept drilling into my head that I was just… Charity.”

“You’re not charity.” You’re quick to refute.

“You didn’t fail Mikey.” So is he.

Oh Christ. You nod, but you don’t believe it. “You weren’t wrong to say it.” You have to put your plate down. “I— I don’t see you like I saw Mikey, at all. But I do…” You trail off, just looking at him has you tearing up.

He leaves home so early. He comes home so late. He looks so tired. Gaunt. Has he been eating? Did he light his oven on fire again? Remember how he looked in the freezer. Remember how Mikey looked in the freezer? Remember how they are so so different. They are so different but you still can’t stop connecting every fragment and taking it as a sign and worrying so fucking much, so fucking paranoid—

“Do what?” He swallows his last bite of chicken, and you can’t stop looking at him and fuck you just can’t hold it back, this time. You were doing so good about this. This isn’t even the point of the conversation— Well, kind of. Just breathe.

As your eyes begin to water, he sets his plate aside on the floor, reaching out immediately, worried, immediately. He pauses, hand floating in the air. Hesitating. “Fuck—Can I?”

Eyes barely open, you nod. He’s quick to take your plate from your hands, set it aside, and hug you there. It’s awkward, underneath a bar counter, half sitting, half crouching, grappling you. Carmen does not wish to be anywhere else.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and babble, unable to hold back a fear that’s been long standing, since the day you met him.

“Sometimes you remind me of Mikey so much and I get so scared and I just— Fuck, I just— Please don’t kill yourself, Carmen.” His arms wrap around just a bit tighter, as do yours. “I know that’s selfish—”

“It’s not.” Mumbled, to your neck. Skin to skin isn’t really the focal point, here, but there is a lurking part of his subconscious fearing that he will never be able to hug you like this, again. Never be your rock. “I won’t.”

It’s silent, for a minute. You believe him. He holds you there, and you believe him.

“Why did you think all that? That you were filler?” You pull back, just a bit, to look at his face. “Did I do something to make you feel like that?”

“No— God no. You’re—” He swallows. It feels stupid now, to even say how his fucking tantrum started, you had it so much worse, in your head. Why didn’t you tell him? “I was looking for your invoice, and—”

“I forgot the booths, by the way.” You recall the shoddy invoice you wrote. It’s a stupid time to interrupt, but as you slowly grow more comfortable, inches from his face, it feels like the time to be stupid. “And taxes. I owe you something more like eighteen-seventy.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”

“I’m paying back a Berzatto, somehow.”

“Where’d that money come from?”

“Where’d your tirade come from?”

He swallows again, getting back to the point. “I found a folder. Called ice chips, or something like that— But it wasn’t for ice. It was, for you.”

You look at him, genuinely perplexed for a second. Then you get it. And it makes a lot more sense, why Carmen knows you failed Mikey—Try as he might to deny it. “Oh… You found my Ice folder.”

“Fuck’s that mean?” You’re glad, honestly, that he’s never had a reason to learn what it means. It’s fair. You had to teach it to Mikey, too.

“Ice. I-C-E, Carmen. It’s an acronym.” You spell it out, slow. “In Case of Emergency. I-C-E.”

It knocks the wind out of him, immediately. He’s extra glad he’s holding onto you, because he’s starting to feel untethered. “What?”

You nod. It’s time to walk him through it. You have to tell him. “I made Mikey keep some sort of emergency stuff as a fail-safe, for when he forgot people wanted him alive.” When Carmen’s quiet, you continue. “I was in his work cabinet, I think Richie was in his bedside, you and Sug were in his wallet.”

His stomach lurches, at the idea of being the emergency his brother always had on him. “You knew he was suicidal?”

Who didn’t? You think, but don’t say, because that’s not fair. Mikey cut him out, how could he know?

“Everyone’s suicidal, when they’re trying to get sober.”

“What?”

“What?” You parrot back. It’s both your turns, to squint at the other, confused beyond belief now. How is he confused? You’re first to ask. “Carmen, what was in my ice folder?”

“Anniver— Oh my fucking God.” He unwraps himself from you, because he’s frankly too ashamed to touch you, realizing everything he misunderstood. “Oh, my fucking God.”

You let him go, though you don’t particularly want to. He’s probably realizing he’s hugging the enemy.

“Carmen—?” “You didn’t fucking date Mikey.”

“What?!” You jump, your head hits the bottom of the base of the bar’s sink. “Fuck! Ow, no— What?!”

It’s a mess of limbs and emotions, as he grabs your head haphazardly, seeing if you’re hurt— It honestly hurts more, to be pulled around like this. “Are you o—” You don’t let him finish, grabbing at his wrists, ignoring your sore head.

“You thought I’d fuck your brother and then—What— try to fuckin’ get the whole set?” You’re cringing at the thought. This had just never come up in your mind. You would’ve set him straight, if it did. It was way worse in his head. Why didn’t he tell you? “I— Carmy, babydoll, are you fucking insane?”

You say nice pet names, when you’re perplexed. You’ve got a pattern of doing so. He also has no comeback for this, completely mum. You release his wrists. You add, again, aghast. “How old do you think I am?”

“Ah— As old as Syd?” “Correct.” “So, twenty-eight?”

“Turning, but yeah.” You nod, like a teacher walking him through a problem. “And how old was Mikey?”

“Forty something.” “Forty-three.” “No one remembers their brothers’ age—” “Sixteen years. Carmen.”

You press your hands over your eyes. “And listen, I get at a point age is just a number but I was twenty-five when I met him and he was already fucking forty— I grew up with Muppet Babies and he grew up with Muppets. Period end of sentence.”

You sigh. This situation isn’t funny at all, but you feel a load lighten off of you significantly. And also the situation is extremely funny. It’s hard to be mad at someone this thrown off.

“It’s just— Listen, do I think Mikey’s hot? Absolutely—”

“Alright—” He cringes, putting a hand in the air, asking you to lay off this train of thought.

“Oh, what do you want me to say ‘your genetic make-up fucking sucks actually’? No, you have a hot family, Carmen.”

“Say this in any other way but this one.”

“I did not date your brother, Carmen.” You finalize, he breathes lighter. “Think about it for like more than two seconds. Richie would’ve fuckin’ run his mouth about it immediately— Would’ve said you’re getting sloppy seconds or call me a fuckin’ homie hopper—”

“I did think that he’d say that, yeah.”

“Well fuckin’ think harder on it, next time—” “Well, what about the joint bank account?”

The most romantic paperwork he’d ever seen. It makes you pause, and Carmen’s considers a universe where you’re just the most incredible pathological liar in existence.

“I made him make it.” You finally say, saddened just thinking about the failsafe that didn’t fucking work. “I didn’t put any money in it.”

“Why’d you want it, then?” The idea of you dating his brother quiets in his head, now he just wants to listen.

“So I could keep track of his spending and withdrawals.” You pick up your fork and twirl it around, like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Need something to do with your hands. “Mostly his withdrawals.”

Carmen thinks about it, trying to tie together the red strings in his head without asking you first. “So you could see if he was buying.”

“If he knew he was being watched, he was less inclined to deal.” You shrug and nod. “Plus I wanted him to get into the habit of keeping savings.”

“Lotta good that did.” Carmen can’t help but laugh, pitifully, at that. “Everythin’ got claimed, when he kicked it.”

You shake your head, you tuck your knees to your chest. “Not everything.”

He just looks at you, curious, waiting for you to explain. Mikey had so much credit card debt— Everything he had outside of fucking tomato cans was claimed.

You shrug. “Not the accounts he wasn’t sole proprietor on.”

Joint bank account. It was partially your money, technically. It deferred to you. Carmen’s head just falls over, another painful realization of another thing you did, that he got completely wrong. You never gave Mikey a cent. You just gave him the protection of your name and credit score.

“Why’d you do all that, for him?”

Holy shit, he doesn’t know. Carmen doesn’t actually know you killed Mikey. You live in a world, still, where Carmen doesn’t completely rightfully blame you. You tap your fingers on your knees. Staring aimlessly. There is nothing else to do.

“Anyone ever tell you why I get called Chip?”

“I asked Richie. Said to ask you.” Carmen shakes his head, he’s a bit sick of himself, for being almost excited to get an answer about this. “Said it was personal.”

You squint and snort. “Since when does Richie give a fuck about personal?”

Carmen smiles, finally, and tucks his knees to his chest to mimic you. “Since me, I guess.”

“Good influence.” You smile, trying to distract from the nervousness, thrumming hard in your chest. Spit collects in your throat like it’s trying to choke you. “I uhm… Chippy is, uh, Mikey started calling me Chip or Chippy cause of uhm—”

You take a moment, one deep breath. A breath of air in the world before Carmen knows. A sanctimonious breath.

You pull at the long black rope chain on your neck, pulling it out from underneath your top, where it’s always been safely tucked. Not hidden necessarily, just always close to your chest. Close to your heart.

“It’s a joke, about— It’s like—”

Just do it, Chip. Let it rip.

“It’s—”

You hold out your fist for him to put his hand out and take it. Carmen gets the point and holds his palm out. You press the pendant into his hand. Holding your hand over it, for a moment, as if you could decide now that actually he shouldn’t be allowed to see this. Like there’s still an escape option, somehow.

You move your hand, you try to speak calmly, as he stares. And the text on the large round pendant stares back at him.

To Thine Own Self Be True.

“Sobriety chip.” Unity, Service, Recovery.

A proud and large 3 months, in the middle of the triangle, leers back at Carmen.

“I was— I was Mikey’s sponsor.”

Now y'all in my asks see why I was waiting, eh?

Ya caught on! Well, after thinking collectively, ya caught on. Some of you got it quick. Anyways, I shouldn't be talking about this like it's some gotcha, it's deeply painful.

A lot of hard confirmations! Fuck! This conversation was so hard to navigate, because I was like-- There's just so much for them to catch up on, and so they keep like moving forward and so I was like wait I have to go back and address this-- No. That's not how most real convos like this work, they just keep running forward, they can clarify later. Such a weird brain challenge. I was tweaking. I hope it's sensical to read? If it's not, dw, i'll walk into the sea about it.

Can you believe this chapter began with Syd/Chip/Richie? Absolutely bonkers. We started with getting ready in a hotel/taking a flight. We were so young, then. I've gotta go watch season 3, so don't send me spoilers, but please send me literally any and all thoughts about this chapter. I really fuckin-- Rah.

I'm happy with this chapter and I honestly think I will probably make a separate post sometime this week showing bits you might've missed-- So much of this was me harkening back to those first three chapters. I went back and reread them recently and I was like woah. I don't know how I did the thing where the writing style felt distant and slowly became close as they became close as characters, but I did feel like that was a thing. In the early chapters. Having to recreate that distant feeling here? Oh fuck. Brutalizing feeling.

Oh but on the more cute side, if you also see Tony as Desi, I was thinkin like a lehenga style blouse with all the work, and like, some black flared pants? and she's got big fuckin jhumkas, OF COURSE!!! OF COURSE BRO!!! But I just left it at semi-cultural so everyone could have fun, hehehe

I feel almost certain, someone's gonna be missing from this tag list, and for that, a thousand pardons, I am gonna put it in my notes app so I don't forget next time, mbmbmb, also added people that did not ask but you are so frequent that i feel like you're just forgetting to ask? idk if you wanna get taken off always just ask dw

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @sharkluver @fridavacado @hoetel-manager @mrs-perfectly-fine

anyways, if you wanna be added send me your thoughts/analysis/diagnosis at length + ask to be added and i will ! try! sometimes they get lost and i am sorry abt that but i do try!

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen x oc #carmy x reader #carmy the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx

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persevereforahappyending · 11 months ago

Text

A Legacies Secret |1|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Stabbing, Break in

Word Count: 3.3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Hey babe, what’s up?” you asked.

Tara smiled, even while at work you still managed to answer her calls. She could hear you moving around, the clanging of glasses and the sound of patrons on the other end of the phone. “I miss you,” Tara said. She hadn’t seen you all day and she was home alone and bored.

You chuckled. Tara couldn’t make out the words, you sounded far away but she could tell you were talking to a customer. “Sorry,” you said, coming back to the phone. “We saw each other yesterday.” Tara didn’t say anything, pouting as she grabbed a pot to make dinner. “But,” you sighed, but Tara knew you were smiling. “I missed you too.”

“You didn’t spend the night last night,” Tara pouted, even though you couldn’t see her she wanted to make you feel guilty. “I’m home all alone.”

“You’re always home alone.” Tara’s pout turned into a frown, she glared at you through the phone. “Besides I have an apartment, we could literally be alone together whenever you want.”

“Your apartment is tiny.”

Tara couldn’t help but smile, imagining the eye roll you’d surely give her. “Is that your way of saying when we get out of this hellhole, you’re not going to live with me?” Tara rolled her eyes; you always made everything so dramatic. “It’s fine. You’ll be going to college, living on campus, and I’ll be living in a shoebox all alone wherever you decide to go.”

“I’d love to live in a shoebox with you,” Tara giggled. “Sounds cozy.”

“Yeah?” you teased. “I thought my apartment was too small.”

“It is.” Your apartment truly was tiny. There was a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It was tiny but it was all you. Tara knew it was the best you could do and still save money and since you were on your own it was actually incredible how well you were doing. She still loved giving you shit about your tiny apartment though. “But I like the idea of being in close quarters with you.”

It seemed you had taken the phone away from your ear again. Tara heard you mumbling and someone else, they had a deeper voice, she assumed it was your boss. “I have to go,” you sighed. “I’ve been informed this has counted as my break.”

Tara rolled her eyes; your boss could be an ass at times. “Tell them you’re dealing with an emergency. Your girlfriend is needy and wants your attention.”

You chuckled again. Tara bit her lip, she didn’t need to see you, just hearing your laugh was everything. “I’m not really sure he cares about that.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“I’ll come over after I get off.”

“I’ll wait up.”

“It’ll be late.”

“I’ll wait up,” Tara said again. She always tried to wait up for you. You worked at a bar and usually didn’t get off till well after midnight, almost early morning the next day at times. There were days you’d get off and come over and you’d be in bed for maybe an hour at most before Tara was getting up for school, those days you were always still in bed by the time she got home.

“Off the phone!” an angry voice came. They were clearly a good distance away, but Tara could hear them clear as day.

“Two seconds!” you screamed back. “I really have to go,” your voice went back to being soft, like it always was when you spoke to Tara. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Tara smiled as she hung up. You’d been dating for almost two years and had said ‘I love you’ a long time ago but it never failed to make Tara blush.

Tara smiled to herself, swaying back and forth in the kitchen. You and her always casually talked about the future together. It wasn’t anything crazy, it wasn’t talks about marriage and getting a house together. It was simple, it was talking about moving in together once Tara graduated. It might seem rushed to most people, moving in together right after high school, especially since you were a few years older, but Tara was eighteen and she knew what she wanted.

Some of the people who thought she was crazy were her best friends, they didn’t have a problem saying it either. Tara didn’t listen to them though, you and her had a plan. Tara would graduate and once she heard back from the schools she applied to, she’d choose, hopefully she’d get into her number one choice, then the two of you would find a little place by campus and you’d work, she’d go to school, and she’d get to come home to you and wake up next to you every day.

Since she couldn’t talk to you, she decided to text Amber. She was bored and though she only needed to entertain herself for a few hours she didn’t want to do it alone. She would just have to make sure Amber didn’t spend the night. You and Amber didn’t get along to put it lightly. You basically hated each other but tolerated each other’s presence, to an extent, for Tara’s sake. Tara honestly wasn’t sure why you didn’t like each other. It was more Amber than you, you kind of just reciprocated her hatred. Amber was never fond of you though. Tara has tried to ask a few times what the deal was, and Amber only ever said she just didn’t think you were good enough.

Tara: Wanna come over? We can binge watch movies

Amber: Where’s the girlfriend?

Tara rolled her eyes. Amber always started off hostile when it came to you. Ever since Tara introduced you, even before the two of you started dating. Amber has always had attitude. Tara tried to avoid talking about you but in times like this it was hard when Amber was the one bringing you up for no reason.

Tara: Work

Amber: Glad to know I’m the second choice

Tara: Stop

Tara: Do you want to hangout or not?

Tara: I’ll make the popcorn

Amber: You can do better than that

The phone on the counter started to ring. Tara looked up from her phone, scrunching her eyebrows at the ringing. No one ever called the landline, if someone wanted to talk to her or her mom, they had their cell. Hell, Tara wasn’t even sure she knew the home phone number. She shook her head and went back to texting Amber.

Tara: You get first pick of the movie?

Amber: I got some homework to finish up

Tara rolled her eyes, of course Amber was going to be difficult. The landline continued to ring. Tara was doing her best to ignore it, whoever was calling seemed persistent though.

Tara: Open liquor cabinet

Amber: Sold!

Tara: Fucking landline won’t stop ringing

“Hello?” Tara answered the landline with an eyeroll, not being able to stand the ringing any longer and hoping to get rid of whoever was on the other end quickly.

“Hello, is Christina there?” A man asked.

Tara rolled her eyes again, of course it was someone asking for her mom. “No, she’s not available. May I take a message?”

“Oh, uhh, yeah, sorry,” he stumbled over his words. Tara didn’t pay him much mind as she got the footrest and made her way over to get the key to the liquor cabinet. “I’m a friend of hers from group. Shit,” he whispered, clearly not meaning to say that.

“From her shit?” Tara smiled to herself, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.

“Just tell her I’m from group, I’m Charlie, she’s got my number.”

“Oh, she goes to group?” Tara asked, not believing for a second her mom was going to any sort of group.

“I shouldn’t have-look can you just tell her Charlie called?”

“And I’ll do exactly that Charlie, once you tell me what kind of group we’re talking about. Is it AA? NA?”

“Well, you sound exactly like she described you.”

“She talks about me in group?” Tara couldn’t believe that either, that definitely didn’t sound like her mom.

“Look, I don’t think I can really talk about that.”

Tara sighed, pulling out her phone again. She needed to tell Amber about this. Amber knew exactly what her mom was like and there was no way she wouldn’t enjoy this.

Tara: Dude I think it’s my mom’s new BF

Amber: Seriously???

“What did she say about me?” there was an edge of hostility in her tone, she wanted to hear all about what her mother possibly said about her in this group.

“Well, she loves you very much.”

“Oh, what does she love about me?” Tara asked, her sarcasm coming back.

“She loves that you’re creative, you love art and TV and movies.”

“Okay, lots of people love movies,” she shook her head, dismissing him.

“But she said you love scary movies and that you guys have that in common. She’s proud at making a fan out of you.”

“She is?” Tara slowed her movements, she used to watch scary movies with her mom all the time, but she’d never heard her mom say she was proud of her for anything before.

“Yeah, she told me the other day she wonders, what’s your favorite scary movie?” Tara ignored the way the man’s voice changed, still focusing on the fact that her mom was apparently proud of her.

“Uhh, The Babadook, it’s an amazing meditation on motherhood and grief.”

“Isn’t that a little fancy pants?” the man asked with a chuckle.

“Well, it’s elevated horror.”

“What does that mean, elevated horror?”

“You know, it’s like scary but with complex emotional and thematic underpinning, it’s not just some schlocky cheeseball nonsense with wall-to-wall jump scares.”

The man hummed, not seeming very interested in her answer. “That seems kind of boring to me. Have you ever seen Stab?” his tone changed again when he asked her the question, but once again Tara didn’t think much of it.

“Once, I think, at a sleepover, when I was like twelve.”

The man laughed at that. “You live in Woodsboro, and you don’t know Stab? Well, your mother loves that movie, she talks about it all the time in group. How well do you remember the original?”

“I don’t know, and it was like super 90s, it was really over lit, and everyone had weird hair.”

“Do you remember the beginning?”

“Not really, I mean it started with a kill scene, right? They always started with a kill scene.”

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s right,” he tone shifted again. “It’s a girl at home alone, she answers the wrong number and starts talking with the killer who makes her play a game.” Tara slowed her movements again, thinking the conversation was treading into weird territory. “Would you like to play a game, Tara?” he whispered her name. A chill went down her spine and she quickly hung up, not bothering to answer him.

Tara tossed the phone on the counter, watching it as if it would ring again. Her eyes darted around the house, looking for anything that shouldn’t be there. She pulled out her phone and locked all the doors, arming the alarm. She knew it was Woodsboro and someone always liked to make prank calls, especially around this time of year but she wasn’t taking her chances. Tara looked out the window, not seeing anyone creeping around her yard as she closed the curtains.

Tara checked the time on her phone. Only several minutes had passed since she had talked to you. She still had a few hours before you’d get off and get to the house. Her thumb hovered over your contact, wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. Tara knew she was just being paranoid, but she just wanted your comfort, you’d calm her down within seconds. She didn’t want to bother you though, she knew you were at work, you were busy, and you’d already been yelled at for just talking to her.

She left your contact and went to text Amber. She just needed to be talking to someone. It was clearly a stupid prank, but she just wanted someone to help keep her sane otherwise her imagination would drive her crazy.

Tara: It was some psycho. I’m locking the doors.

Amber: WTF??? You okay?

Tara started to type out she was fine and just a little jumpy. She knew it was probably a prank but that didn’t mean it wasn’t freaking her out. Before she could finish typing her text though the phone started ringing again, making her jump.

Amber: You should answer it.

Tara scrunched her eyebrows looking at Ambers text, she slowly lifted her eyes to look at the ringing phone again, then back down at her cell. Her thumb hesitated over the letters as she typed out her message.

Tara: How did you know my landline was ringing?

Tara: Amber?

Amber: This isn’t Amber

Amber: ANSWER THE PHONE BITCH

Tara moved to call the police; she had nine dialed, tears slowly began to fill her eyes, when another message appeared.

Amber: ANSWER THE PHONE OR AMBER DIES

Tara ran back to the counter, picking up the phone. “This isn’t fucking funny Amber,” she said but couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice.

“I told you, this isn’t Amber,” the same voice as before said, this time sounding much more sinister. Just then a video was sent to Tara, when she opened it, she saw footage of Amber, sitting in her room and brushing her hair. “Amber’s looking particularly fetching tonight. She really shouldn’t leave her phone lying around for anyone to clone.”

“What do you want?”

“I told you, I want to play a game,” he talked to her as if she was a child. “Stab movie trivia, three rounds, you call the cops, she dies, you get a question wrong, she dies, her parents aren’t home, I can be in that room in fifteen seconds. You want a warm-up question?”

“I told you, I don’t know these movies,” came out in a whine, tears already getting ready to fall. “I don’t! Ask me about something I do know,” she tried to bargain. “Ask me about It Follows, ask me about Hereditary, ask me about The Witch.”

“In the first Stab movie,” he continued, completely ignoring Tara’s pleas. “What Woodsboro native was introduced as the franchise’s main character?”

“It’s Sidney Prescott! It’s Sidney Prescott and she lived on Elm.”

“Correct. You see, you’re gonna do great at this. Okay, question one.”

“Nonono, I got that one right, it should count.”

“Anyone could have gotten that one right, Sidney’s in every movie but the last one. Question one, who wrote the original book the Stab movies are based on?”

“The chick from TV,” Tara struggled to remember her name. She had never read any of the books and she certainly didn’t watch the morning show the lady did.

“The chick from TV is not going to cut it Tara,” they let out a disappointed sigh.

“Oh! Gale Weathers! It’s Gale Weathers you motherfucker.”

“Correct. Amber might live to see the sunrise. Question two, who played the dumb bitch at the beginning of Stab one who answers the phone and gets carved up by the killer?”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that the answer you’re going with?” Tara quickly typed on her phone, going to IMDB and looking at the cast for Stab. “A non-answer counts as a wrong answer Tara. Time’s running out.” He continuously repeated the words tick tock, getting faster and faster as the seconds passed, making Tara more anxious and scroll faster.

“Maybe I made a mistake,” he continued, causing Tara to halt her scrolling for a second. “Maybe Amber isn’t enough motivation.” Tara let out a shaky breath, preparing herself for his next words. “Maybe I should have gone after your little girlfriend,” he spit out, not able to hide is clear hatred. “It’d be much easier, I mean it’s late, there’s no one around. No one would even hear her scream.”

“She has nothing to do with this!” Tara screamed, sobbing into the phone. She couldn’t get the image out of her head of you leaving the bar and getting jumped by Ghostface, getting stabbed and left to bleed out in the street with no one to help.

“She has everything to do with this,” the voice snapped. Tara didn’t even have time to process the clearly emotional outburst. “Tick tock Tara,” they snapped again. “Or should I just kill both? I’m sure I can gut Amber and then make it to-”

“Heather Graham!” Tara screamed finally finding the name, cutting the killer off before he could threaten you again.

“Correct,” he said, going right back to his calmer demeanor. “You pulled that one out, now for the final question, who was the killer in Stab one?”

“Oh, I know this one you fuck,” Tara gasped, realizing she knew the answer. “It’s Billy Loomis! It’s Billy Loomis and he was Sidney’s boyfriend, and he was played by Luke Wilson, and I got you asshole,” Tara couldn’t help but chuckle, relieved at getting the answer right. “I got it! I got it right!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Tara,” he almost sounded sympathetic. “But that’s just not correct.”

“What?” Tara whispered, confused, and not believing what she was hearing. “No no no no it is, that is right.”

"The correct answer is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, there are two killers in the original Stab. I’m afraid someone’s gotta die now.”

“Nono, Amber I’m coming!” she shouts as she sets down the phone and grabs a kitchen knife, running for her front door.

When Tara threw open her door, she was met with the sight of Ghostface who quickly slashed their knife across her left side. Tara punched them in the face and slammed the door. She fought against Ghostface as he tried to shove his way in but eventually, she got the door shut, quickly locking it.

Tara pulled out her phone again, arming the system again and hitting the button to alert the authorities. She picked up her knife, slowly backing up down the hallway as she heard Ghostface relentlessly banging on the door trying to get in when suddenly the banging stopped. Tara’s heart dropped when she heard the alarm system say it was disarmed, Ghostface had access to her system somehow. Tara quickly armed it again, but Ghostface was ready, disarming it once again. They went back and forth arming and disarming the alarm system until it finally landed on armed.

Tara stood at the end of the hallway gasping for breath as she continued to sob. The landline rang again, startling her and making her swing the knife. She held the wall, sobbing as she made her way back to the landline.

“Hello?” Tara said, her words shaky as she stood in the middle of the kitchen, keeping the hand holding the knife raised.

“Bonus question Tara,” Ghostface whispered.

“Please stop,” she begged.

“Do you think I made it inside your house before you could re-arm?”

Just as Tara’s eyes widened with the realization, Ghostface came out from behind her, stabbing her in the stomach. Tara let out a scream of pain. When Ghostface pushed her into the kitchen island she turned around, smacking him across the head before he could stab her again.

Ghostface grabbed her by the head and shoved her to the floor. Tara rolled over, kicking Ghostface in the stomach. Ghostface brought down their boot, snapping Tara’s leg. Tara rolled over, sobbing from the pain.

Ghostface brought down his knife towards her face, but she reached up, causing the knife to go through her left hand. Tara screamed, holding Ghostface’s arm up as he continued to try and push the knife towards her face despite it still being in her hand. He finally pulled the knife out and Tara kicked him, making him lose his balance and crash to the floor.

Unable to walk, Tara crawled her way to the front door, screaming for help. Just as Tara reached the door and she could hear the police sirens, Ghostface yanked her back, stabbing her in the side several more times.

“Nononononono,” Tara screamed as Ghostface brought his knife down onto her again.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream 5 #scream v #a legacies secret

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gguk-n · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 4- Heartbreak and Understanding

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen X Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N decides to forgive Max. Max wins his home race. She meets Max's girlfriend who doesn't seem to like her very much. Did I tell you Y/N watched Max win his home race?

{Reader's POV}

Falling in love with your friend is a bad idea. Falling in love with your internet friend who has a girlfriend was an even worse idea. Falling in love with Max Emilian Verstappen was the worst idea. He's all over my screen after I searched him on every social media ever. I cannot escape him when I'm trying to get over him.

It's been a few months since the either of us have spoken to each other. After I asked for time, Max respected my wishes. After our call, I received a message from him saying that he would always be there for me no matter what and that he would like to clear up the misunderstanding one day. I knew I would talk to him, however I hoped that it would be when I was over him. Doesn't look like that's about to happen any time soon since this man is everywhere and anywhere I look.

Summer break was here, so I was having a girl's night with my friend Riley when I decided to ask for her opinion on this whole debacle. "Sooooo, Riley" I began. "You're about to unload some shit you did aren't you. Who fucked you up?" she interrupted me. "What?" I questioned. "I've known you for 6 years, I know you too well. Tell me who do I have to beat up." she said. I began to laugh. "No one" I said in between laughter. I wiped a tear away from the side of my eye, "I haven't laughed like this in a while." I muttered. "Go on, love" Riley prodded. "Yeah, so I have this internet friend, we've been friends since 2013. He's nice, kind, funny, handsome, blonde, blue eyes" I was talking when she cut me off; "exactly your type" I nodded along. "It's all nice and all. I didn't know what he did for a living. I recently found out that he is famous" I mumbled. She looked at me shocked. "Who?" was all she said. "Max Verstappen, Formula One driver for Redbull Racing" I said. "Damn, I mean he's like cute for a white boy. I think he's cool and shit for driving in fast cars, I appreciate him as an athlete for sure; as my bestie's potential love interest, questionable at best" she replied. "why, I mean I didn't say I was interested in him?" I asked defensively. "Bro, he is literally exactly your type, I've seen the men you date or hook up with, on the other hand, he has a girlfriend" she pointed out. "Ok, I know and you scare me sometimes" I lamented. "so, my real question is, I didn't know he was Max Verstappen. I didn't know he had a girlfriend. I was hurt when I found out and stopped talking to him, had a confrontation and then I said I need time before I am ready" I explained. "Understandable" she nodded along. "what do I do?" I asked. "what do you want to do?" she questioned back.

I love Max and I would like to be a part of his life even if it meant only as friends because I cherished the time we've had together. Also, I feel like I didn't let him explain himself the last time we spoke. I want to mend our ways. I would love to have him forever, even if only as a friend. "I want to still have him in my life even if it meant only as friends." I said cautiously. "Then there's your answer." she pointed out. "Talk to him, clear stuff out. If his explanation seems legit then continue to be friends." she suggested. "great idea. Thanks Riley" I said. "Don't mention it. Now can we un-pause the movie." she asked. "yes" I said while un-pausing the movie.

A few days after the heart to heart with Riley I texted Max. I knew he was supposed to be back next weekend for the race and was currently at home. I kind of confirmed that by watching his streams where he did SimRacing. I don't think I'll be telling this to anyone, honestly. He was on stream when my text went through, I saw him check his phone and ask to leave the stream early since he needed to do something; that something being to call me because within seconds my phone was ringing with the familiar name cropping up on the screen. I answered the call, Max staring back at me, a tentative smile played on his lips. He waited for me to start talking.

Y/N- Hi Max. Max- Hi Y/N, how've been? Y/N- Good, you? Max- Yeah, OK. Y/N- I'm sorry for lashing out the last time we spoke. Max- No, no, don't be sorry. I was at fault for hiding such important information from you. Can you ever forgive me? Y/N- Depends... Max- What do I have to do to get you to forgive me? Y/N- Why didn't you tell me? About everything; your girlfriend, your career? Max- I...When we started talking I just enjoyed being a regular teenager, where we talked about school and random stuff. I got to be Max the teenager not Max the youngest Formula One driver. I enjoyed the disconnect I got with you. I got to be myself and forget about racing for a minute. You made me feel like a regular guy. Y/N- I wish you had told me because when I found out about your championships, I felt like I missed out on celebrating such a huge and momentous occasion with you. That hurt. Max- I'm sorry for that. I didn't know how to tell you since it had been so long, I did want to tell you, I really did want to share my happiness with you; I just didn't know how to. You made me feel normal. Y/N- I'm glad I could be of some help. Max- You were of so much help. You calmed me down before many races and reading your messages or hearing your voice was like a comfortable constant. Thank you. Y/N- Fine, I get it some times famous people want to live regular lives, what about your girlfriend. Why didn't you tell me about her? Max- I....am not really sure. We started dating 2 years ago, it just happened. We'd known each other for a while. It just happened. Y/n- Hmmm....doesn't she mind that we talk so much? Max- No, she's chill about it. (He laughed awkwardly) Y/N- I hope we won't have anymore lies between us Max- No not at all. I cherish our friendship too much Y/N- me too. Max- This weekend is my home race. Y/N- I saw Max- You did? Y/N- I might like watching my best friend win... Max- That's great, then you can watch me win in person next week. Y/N- Sweetheart, Maxie, You might be a millionaire; your friend here is broke as fuck. I can't fly out so suddenly. Max- You don't have to worry about anything. I'll get you the tickets and stuff. Just say yes. Y/N- I mean, I would love to meet you in person.... Max- Then, that's final. You're coming to the Dutch GP next week. I'll pick you up at the airport. You should come early and leave a little later. I'll show you around. Max looked and sounded excited. Y/N- Ok (I couldn't help but laugh at his excitement)

As soon as I ended the call, I got plane tickets to the race. He said he would come pick me. I couldn't wait to meet him. I'm sure nothing bad will happen; from meeting my long time friend.

I thought maybe I should show Max some support and buy his merchandise or something; no one told me it was this expensive. I decided against it. The race was on the 27th; I was flying in on the 24th. The flight there was nerve wrecking. I've seen him although not in person. I got a text from Max telling me to go to a certain gate in the parking area where he would be waiting. I found him rather quickly; he had his hand sticking out of the car. I tapped on the window with a big smile plastered on my face. "Hi Maxie!" I greeted. "hey, schat. Get in, I don't wanna get caught." he said pointed at the door. "By who?" I quizzed. "I feel like you forgot what I did for a living and where we were." he chided. I laughed before walking to the opposite side and getting in.

Initially, things felt a little awkward but the atmosphere turned friendly quite quickly. We reached the hotel I would be staying at; Max had planned the entire week of my stay out. I was going to just rest today while Max attended to media stuff and then we would have dinner together tonight. He would take me along to the paddock for all the 3 days. And after the race weekend, he would take me to all his favourite place; my personal tour guide.

I crashed for the day after a shower and having food. I only woke up when Max called me to let him in. It took me a while to realise where I was. I apologised for not being ready to leave when that was the plan initially. Max didn't mind and offered to wait till I got dressed. He told me we were going somewhere fancy so I pulled out my black satin dress I kept for special occasions. This was a special occasion, right, I thought. Max was a lot more patient compared to all my exes who would start getting antsy; he even helped me decide on the jewellery and shoes I should pair with my outfit. Why are all the good men taken, God?

We had authentic dutch food in a fancy restaurant as a three course meal. I loved the Apple tart. I almost moaned as I placed a spoon of it in my mouth; "Max, this is so good" I groaned. Max smiled, "I'm happy you like it." "I love desserts Max, but this is almost up there with my favourites" I said with a mouth full of apple tart. "What are your favourites?" Max asked. "I love tres leches, tiramisu and cheese cakes" I mumbled. After finishing the food, we decided to walk around for a while; it was kind of dark and Max would probably not get recognised was the thought. "Thanks for the food. Maximilian" I said. He just nodded along. "It's an atrocious name Maxie, no offence but Emilian as a middle name; who ever named you, hates you" I said shaking my head. Max laughed it off; "I would've thought you were fucking with me, if you told me that was your middle name" I said patting his back. "I'm sorry" he said. "Don't apologise for your name, you had no control" I said now facing him. "No, I mean I'm sorry for lying and hiding things from you. I never felt good doing that. I wish I had told you sooner. I wish you had found out about it through me." he said regretfully. "It's ok Max, the past is in the past. I hope we'll be more honest in this friendship" I said enveloping him in a hug for the first time. His head found it's way in the crook of my neck, a woody scent wafted into my nose while Max clutched on to my waist. I felt warm tears drip down my shoulder. "Max, are you crying?" I asked, trying to pull away. He tightened the grip on my waist and buried his head deeper, if it was possible, "No" he replied, making my skin on the shoulder vibrate. "It's ok Maxie, let it all out. I'm always there for you." I said patting his back to console him. "I thought I lost you, I thought you'd never speak to me again, I thought you hated me." he muttered softly. "I could never hate you, I might've been angry but I knew I didn't want to lose you either. You are a very important friend to me" I said. "I don't ever want to lose you" he said, finally deciding to look at me with his tear streaked face. I wiped away the tears. "Me neither, now let's go, you have a race tomorrow" I said pulling him along.

The conversation kept me up at night. It was giving me mixed signals. I didn't know what to make of it. He has a girlfriend, granted I haven't met her yet. There was desperation in Max's eyes and his words. They felt heavy and part of me wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this. Was I thinking too much into it? What was Max's deal?

I got to meet Max's girlfriend the next day. She didn't seem too pleased with me; I mean I don't think anyone could welcome a random women your boyfriend said was his childhood friend suddenly. I didn't hold it against her. I got to meet Max's teammate and the other drivers. All of them were very kind and welcoming. I got to learn a lot about Max while I waited for him to get done with interviews after free practise. I was talking to Lando while he waited his turn after Max. Max returned which made Lando leave. "You didn't tell me you had such cute friends. I would've asked you you set me up with him sooner" I said while we walked back to Redbull. "No" he stated. "You're patronising with the enemy" he continued. "Your enemy, my future boyfriend." I joked. "He's not your type" Max interjected. "And you know what my type is?" I asked. Before he could say anything, his girlfriend whisked him away.

I ended up talking to Checo who was surprised to know me and Max had been friends for so long. Almost everyone in the garage was shocked about our friendship. Checo told me it's because Max had never told them about me. Max and his girlfriend came back who looked visibly annoyed; I tried asking Max what was up but he brushed me off. I spent the rest of the day being dragged around by Max who couldn't stop talking about anything and everything.

I spent Saturday with a lot of the mechanics and engineers who had so much good stuff to talk about. It would probably help me in editing that author. She was almost done with the book; but a few more additions won't hurt. Max qualified pole, he was so excited. He dropped me back at my room when I told him he should rest up before the race when he offered to watch a movie with me. He couldn't care less, he promised to win the race for me even with a little sleep. We ended up watching some movie. His girlfriend's annoyed face was etched in my brain through out the movie, so I decided to ask him about that. "Max, I'm sure your girlfriend minds you spending so much time with me" I suggested. "No, I told her I'm meeting you for the first time. She shouldn't care." he said. "I'm sure she does, she doesn't look very happy to me" I commented. "Don't think about it too much" Max said handing me the can of cold drink. I wasn't very satisfied, but there's only so much I could do.

The race was crazy, it got my heart beating really fast watching all of them zip past at such a high speed. Max did so well, he finished the race in P1 just like how he started it. Everyone rejoiced and headed to where Max was. GP took me with him. Max got out of the car and took his helmet off, his eyes were scanning the area. As soon as our eyes met he strode towards me. His girlfriend was a couple of steps away, before I knew it Max hugged me. "I won, just like I told you I would" he whispered. "Congratulations Max." I said while turning my head towards his girlfriend who looked visibly annoyed and quickly turned on her heels and left. "You shouldn't have done that" I told Max while pulling away. "Done what?" he questioned. "You should've gone to your girlfriend after winning your home race." I said. "She's here for so many of my races, you're not" he stated. I face palmed myself, "Doesn't matter Max, she probably hates me" I said. Max just shrugged his shoulders and went to get weighed.

After all the formality and interviews Max was on the top step of the podium. I was very proud of him and you could see it on my face. I couldn't find his girlfriend anywhere around. Max got down from the podium drenched in champagne trying to hug me while I pushed him away. "No, you'll get me all sticky" I shouted while running away from him.

[ Winning his home race felt special to Max because Y/N was watching. He walked right up to her the moment his eyes landed on her. He couldn't help but wrap himself around her. After the race, they were going out to celebrate his win because Y/N wanted to go out with the other drivers and so he agreed. After reaching his room to quickly shower and leave, he was met with his girlfriend who was sat on the edge of the bed. She didn't look happy and after a bit of back and forth; Max said it. The words that had been floating around in his head for a while now; he didn't know why he didn't say it sooner. He broke up with his girlfriend. He wasn't sad but rather relieved. He walked into the shower while his girlfriend packed everything up to leave]

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verstappen-cult · 1 year ago

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 05. THE END

PREV. PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like!

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yourusername 🥂🌅🍋��️

view all 8,763 comments

user48 she's so hot i don't know if i wanna be her

zendaya prettiest girl in the world.

user49 is she with charles??

user50 her life doesn't revolve around charles.

user51 im pretty sure she's with charles.

user52 i actually saw a picture going around tw of her and charles like a day ago? so maybe they're spending summer break together user53 a fan ran into charles today in monaco so i don't think they're tgt

francisa.cgomes whoever told you to buy that bikini has excellent taste

yourusername i might kiss that person pierregasly HEY! that's my girlfriend you know. yourusername she wants ME

user54 what is charles doing in the likes

user55 yk sometime people like other people posts. user56 and they're dating so it's pretty normal user54 some people still act surprised lol

alex_albon you look pretty good (i was forced to comment) ((i'm held at gunpoint))

user57 she could be a model

user58 but she chose to follow charles like a dog user59 what is wrong with you people? you hate her just because she's dating your favorite driver. pathetic. user60 and she IS a model btw

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oscarpiastri We had to leave the others behind. Sacrificies were made.

tagged: danielricciardo, yourusername.

view all 10,862 comments

landonorris WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE ME?

user61 wait. are they spending summer break together?

user62 girl have you been living under a rock? everyone's spending summer break with everyone. go check twitter.

lilymhe bring me ice cream :(

user63 im having a panic attack

user64 i may never recover

user65 THE 813 WE NEVER KNEW WE NEEDED

charles_leclerc where did you take my girlfriend?

danielricciardo pay us or you'll never see her again. oscarpiastri We'll throw her into the ocean. yourusername WHAT THE F

user66 OMG MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING

georgerussell63 We're going to leave without you.

carmenmundt No, we are not. georgerussell63 Yes, ma'am 🫡

user67 I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY'RE ALL TGT I'M GOING TO CRY

user68 no one was ready for this

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charles_leclerc 🌊🗺️🤚🥥

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yourusername who's that handsome boy. 👀

user69 summer break is looking good

user70 screaming crying throwing up i can't do this anymore

maxverstappen1 No pic credits? I put my life in danger for you.

user71 Y/N'S COMMENT OMG

user72 my parents

user73 i want him so bad

user74 i need them to confirm their relationship

user75 i mean it's confirmed they're dating, charles called her his gf in oscar's most recent post user76 WHAT user75 idk why people need them to 'confirm' they just don't want to user76 she's been receiving sm hate online i understand if they wanna keep it a little more private

user78 STAY CALM EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user79 one chance thats all i ask

arthur_leclerc thanks for (not) inviting me

charles_leclerc adults only 🤪 pierregasly i told him to invite you charles_leclerc no you didn't stfu

user80 I FEEL BLESSED

TWITTER

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charles_leclerc As Taylor Swift once said... love you to the moon and to saturn.

tagged: yourusername.

view all 15,846 comments

user81 I CAN'T TAKE THIS SHIT ITS TOO EARLY

user82 i'm sleeping on the highway tonight

yourusername as taylor swift once said... you are the best thing that's ever been mine. 🖤

charles_leclerc should we kiss now? yourusername i see you making eyes at me from across the room. landonorris there are children on this app

alex_albon fucking finally!

yourusername stfu

user83 MY PARENTS

pierregasly you can finally stop whining. 🙄

user84 THIS IS TOO CUTE

user85 oh my god they finally confirmed it

maxverstappen1 It was all thanks to me, you're welcome.

alex_albon it was thanks to me?? what are you on about maxverstappen1 If I hadn't threaten to punch him, he wouldn't have made things right. alex_albon I introduced them! yourusername no you didn't, you abandoned me and that's how i met charlie. alex_albon SEE?! THANKS TO ME

user86 con 😭 gra 😭 tu 😭 lations 😭

oscarpiastri Can you adopt me now?

olliebearman get in line landonorris i'm their first born child gtfo

georgerussell63 So happy for you! Can you get out of the room now, we want to eat.

danielricciardo they aren't getting out of that room😏

user87 AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT'S LYRICS

user88 when is it my turn????

TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @1655clean. @sassyheroneckgiant. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen. @littlehoneyfreak. @paintedbypoetry. @miakat9. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @thatoneembarrasingmoment. @lyrasconstellation. @rhythmstars. @c-losur3. @apolloxxivmin. @janeholt3. @lovrsm. @gulphulp. @thecubanator2. @dark-night-sky-99. @ssprayberrythings.

note: oh my god, i'm so sorry it took me this long to finish this but here you have the final chapter. i'm not good with series but i did my best. hope you liked it!🤍

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 smau

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loulouwrites · 11 months ago

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HELLISH . AFLIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie's secretary makes the decision to marry, it's a shame her prospective husbands seem to disappear after one meeting warnings: angst, violence, swearing, jealousy, threats, borderline stalking honestly, muderous thoughts, unedited, unrequited love word count: 3.5k a/n: i've been away for a while bc life is hard. i wanted to write a little alfie story not related to the 'home series' and came up with whatever this is so i hope you enjoy. i'm working on a taglist, so if you would like to be included, lmk <3 also lmk if you'd like a part 2 to this, i've already cooked something up!

She had known Alfie Solomons for about three years, and they had been friends since they had met.

Two years into their strange friendship, she had been sacked from her job as a secretary for an Italian businessman, he didn't say why he suddenly decided he didn't require her services, but they both knew. Tensions were rising between the Jewish quarter and Italian quarter in Camden, and everybody was sticking to their own side of town.

When she had told Alfie about it, he had offered her a job immediately - the rising tensions were partly his fault anyways.

Her mother had not been happy when her daughter came home with news she would be working for Alfie Solomons, but when she saw the stack of notes Mr Solomons had given as a 'pay advance', she warmed to the idea.

It was easy work. He had his men for the nitty-gritty stuff, she merely typed up Alfie's ramblings and sent threatening telegrams to people - it was easier than any legitimate job she had ever had, and it paid better, too.

She would often have lunch with Ollie, Alfie's second in command if you wanted to call him that. She was allowed a longer lunch than he was, Ollie wasn't supposed to have a lunch break at all, but if she were talking to him, it was rare they would be interrupted, unless there was an urgent matter to attend to.

Ollie was a good gossip, better than any of the other men in the bakery, Alfie excluded. But, unlike Alfie, Ollie had no interest in her, sexually or romantically, so she enjoyed the time she could spend talking to him, discussing rumours or chatting about their lives outside of work without it turning into something else within minutes.

"Do you think he'll let me leave an hour early?" She asked from where she was perched on the man's desk, swinging her feet back and forth.

"He'd let you leave now if you asked," Ollie replied, rolling his eyes at the girl. It was true, Alfie would probably still pay her if she didn't show up, he'd let her release a group of pigs in his office if she wanted to.

"He's in a mood, though."

"He's always in a mood."

"Not as bad as this," she pointed to their boss' office, where the blinds were pulled up, showing his figure stomping around the small room, throwing pieces of paper and trinkets onto the ground.

"Fuck," she sighed as a loud crash was heard, though they couldn't see what had bared the brunt of the man's rage from their seats.

"Maybe reschedule?" Ollie offered, his eyes not leaving the glass window of Alfie's office.

"I'm just going to ask him," she planted her feet on the ground, ignoring Ollie's protests. "The worst he can do is say no," she shrugged, walking towards the office door.

"That is not the worst he can do," he called after her in an urgent whisper.

She didn't knock when she entered, she never had, and she wasn't about to start now.

A book flew past her face when she stepped inside, and she quickly stepped to the side, it hitting the wall behind her and falling to the floor.

"What did...that Russian book ever do to you?" She asked, and his head snapped up to look at her, his eyes wide.

"Shit, sorry 'bout that, love," he sighed, wiping a hand over his face but she waved him off, moving to sit in one of the chairs at his desk.

"Bad day?"

"Better now," he winked at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully. "What do you want?"

"I want to leave an hour early," she offered him a wary smile, clasping her hands together pleadingly.

"You fuckin' what?"

"Please, Alfie-" she started, but he was up from his seat before she could finish her sentence, pacing up and down the cramped office with his hands on his hips. "It's only an hour, and I'm not doing anything anyway."

"You're not doing anything?" his eyebrows raised as he turned to face her. "You're really admitting that to your boss?"

"Please, Alfie," she stood up, taking a few steps towards him. "I never ask you for anything."

She scowled at the obnoxious laugh he let out in response.

"Never ask me for anything?" his voice raised an octave to mock her. "A pay advance that you still haven't paid back," he help up a finger as he counted. "A weekday off so you can go shopping when it's less crowded, a bonus so you can get your mum a birthday present, a day off when your fucking cat died," he stepped towards her. "Asking me to come to it's fucking funeral."

"You said it was a lovely service," she placed a hand on her chest in offense.

"You know what?" he sighed, rubbing a hand up and down his face. "Just fuck off, yeah?"

"Really?" She smiled, clapping her hands.

"But you will come in an hour early tomorrow to make up for it, or so help me God, I will come to your house and drag you here myself."

It was an empty threat, and they both knew it.

"Thank you, Alfie." She reached to place a kiss on his cheek, not taking offense when he reached to wipe his cheek when she pulled away, already opening the door to leave. "I'll see you bright an early tomorrow."

She couldn't make out what he grumbled after her.

Alfie waited until she had left the bakery to slink out of his office, approaching Ollie's desk, and tapping on it with his knuckles.

"Why'd she want to leave early?" he asked his assistant, not missing the way the younger man sunk down in his seat.

"I don't want to tell you," Ollie replied, sheepishly.

"Ollie," Alfie warned.

"She's meeting up with someone?"

"Ollie."

"A man. She's meeting up with a man, her mum's friend's son or something. Think she's looking to settle down, you know?"

Alfie hummed, a hand coming up to rub his beard. "Interesting," he mumbled, walking back to his office, landing a smack to Ollie's head as he passed.

Her suitor had been a perfect gentleman. Jacob had taken her to a fancy club in a nicer part of London, had bought her dinner and drinks without grumbling about the prices, and had dropped her off at home with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to take her out again the following weekend.

She hadn't thought a man her mother had set her up with would be particularly charming, but she had been proven wrong, the stupid smile she wore on her face all week being proof of that.

She had been thinking of settling down for a while. All of her childhood friends were married with several children at this point, and she didn't miss the sympathetic looks they would give her when she told them she was still unmarried, still childless, and still working.

Marriage was always something she thought would come naturally -as it seemed to do with everyone else around her - but years rolled by and she was still no closer to the life that had seemed so easily achievable when she was young. So, she had decided to take matters in her own hands, informing her mother and everyone else she could that she was ready to marry, and asking them to let her know if they knew a boy they thought would be a good match.

And, she thought she had found the good match on her first try, but when the week after her date rolled on, and there was no word from Jacob, she realised how stupid she had been.

She had been moodier than ever that week, stomping around the bakery with a scowl on her face, smacking the keys of her typewriter harder than necessary, and barely speaking two words to whoever approached her.

She was not dealing with the rejection well.

So, when a handsome worker - who she recalled was named James -- passed her desk, offering a confident smile as he did, she wasted no time.

She wandered into Alfie's office with her hands clasped behind her back, swaying slightly as she waited for him to look up from the papers on his desk.

"What?" He asked, still reading the scribbles on the page.

"Didn't know you'd taken new people on," she shrugged nonchalantly, keeping her tone light and unbothered.

"And? What about it?"

"I don't know," she shrugged again, stepping further into his office. "Just a lot of new faces around here,"

Alfie groaned, dropping the papers from his hand and removing the glasses he wore from his face. "Since when do you care about new faces?"

"I don't," she laughed defensively. "I was just wondering about one of them, is all."

"You were just wondering about one of them," Alfie's eyebrows rose, and he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "What were you wondering about?"

"I mean...maybe some background..."

"Like what? His favourite fucking book? The fuck you expect me to know?"

"I was just wondering, that's all," she held her hands up in defense, and her boss' eyes squinted at her words.

"I thought you were already seein' someone, that is why you left early a couple weeks ago, ain't it?"

"Who the fuck told you that?"

"Don't matter," Alfie offered her a smile. "Didn't work out or something..."

"No, it didn't," she huffed. "So...about James..." she trailed off, waiting for Alfie to step in, but he merely offered her a blank look. "Alfie," she whined, stomping her foot against the floor."

"Don't know 'im. Sorry, love," he waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine," she spun on her heel, storming out of his office. "I'll find out myself."

James was lovely. She had 'bumped' into him when she was leaving, and it hadn't taken him long to offer to take her out for drinks when he finished his shift, which she had accepted with a grateful smile.

He had met her outside of the local pub near the 'bakery', it wasn't a particularly nice establishment, but the lager was cheap, and she supposed he didn't have the money to spend in a fancy club like Jacob had - not with the pittance she was sure Alfie was paying him.

He was funny, and quite respectful in comparison with some of his colleagues. He had asked her questions about her interests, had shared his own, and she was delighted that they seemed to have quite a bit in common.

They had ended the night at her door, with chaste kiss, and another promise to go out again the following week, and she had closed the door with a grin on her face.

"See you at work tomorrow," he had said as he walked away.

When she arrived to work the next morning, the same grin still on her face, she couldn't stop her eyes scanning the floor as she walked to her desk, desperately trying to seek out James, but, when she couldn't find him, she had shrugged it off.

Maybe he was ill or something.

It was now Thursday. Her date with James had been on Monday, and there had been no sign of him ever since.

It was hard not wonder, had something bad happed to him? Had he been hiding every time he saw her walking through the distillery? Had he been so repulsed by her that he had quit his job just to avoid seeing her again?

The thoughts had consumed her all week, and they had affected her mood significantly. Unlike with Jacob, where she had been an angry force at work, she was now forlorn, barely speaking to anybody, and zoning out of conversations with a vacant look on her face.

It was starting to worry her boss, who spent longer than appropriate watching her from his office window.

He had called her into the office that afternoon, watching as she walked seemingly in a daze, her eyes were duller, and he face appeared more sunken.

She didn't say anything when she took a seat at his desk, nor did she meet his eyes when he said her name.

"You alright?" he had asked, his tone more concerned than he wanted it to be.

"Wonderful," she replied, her voice flat, fiddling with a thread on her skirt.

"You've been wandering 'round like a ghost for the past week, love. What's goin' on with ya? Please don't tell me another fucking cat died."

She huffed a laugh that was clearly fake, still fiddling with the thread when she responded. "I think I'm unmarriable, Alfie."

Alfie's shoulder's straightened at her words, leaning his arms on his desk, he studied her face, watching as she blinked away the tears that were beginning to pool in her eyes. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Two men in two weeks, Alfie. I have gone out with two men in two weeks and they have both disappeared...literally disappeared, I haven't seen them since."

Her eyes lifted from her dress to meet his, and Alfie was struck by how sad she looked. He had never thought she would be this upset by a couple of boys not getting back to her after one night.

"That's silly, love," he sighed. "It don't mean nothin'"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "it does."

He considered telling her in that moment, he truly did. A better man would have, would have confessed right then and there.

A better man would have told her that they had cornered Jacob after he had dropped her off at her door. How he had almost certainly broken the young man's nose before he had a chance to blink, how he had had his men hold the boy by the shoulders while he whispered a warning in his ear.

"Stay away from her."

He really should have told her that he had turned up at James' shitty flat on Monday night, waiting for the man to return from his date with her. That his worker's body had began to shake when he saw his boss leaning against his front door, his arms crossed against his chest and a cold look in his eye.

"Have to let you go, son," Alfie had said. "A worker that is more concerned about fucking my secretary isn't one I want workin' with me."

James had begun to splutter a reply, but Alfie was already heading for the stairs.

"Best you stay away from her, yeah?"

It hadn't been a question.

He really should have told her, but he didn't. Instead, he had sighed and rose from his seat, moving into the empty chair beside her.

"You ain't unmarriable, woman," he told her, patting her shoulder. "You just chose two fuckin' idiots."

"Whatever you say, Alfie," she said, standing up and walking out of the office without another word.

He should have confessed, but he didn't. He did, however, promise himself he would not get involved in her personal life anymore. The next man she met, would not have to face a threat from Alfie Solomons.

She had been leaving her home to go to work when she had ran into Elijah on the street. He had chased after her, holding an envelope in his hands, waving it frantically when she finally turned around when she heard the stranger's voice calling after her.

"I think you dropped this," he handed her the envelope, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she took it from his hands.

"Oh, thank you," she laughed. "My boss would have murdered me if I lost it."

He had laughed at her words, not realising she wasn't exactly joking about her boss.

"I'm Elijah," he held out a hand, which she took with a smile.

"He's really nice, Ollie," her words were muffled as they travelled into Alfie's office, and he had to press his ear closer to the door to be able to hear her clearly. "A real gentleman."

'A real gentleman.'

Alfie rolled his eyes, 'gentleman' was just another word for a soft prick.

"We're going out again tonight," she told her friend. "Said he has a surprise for me."

"What do you think it is?" Ollie asked her, and Alfie rolled his eyes again. Ollie was worse than a fucking twelve year old girl.

"I mean we've been seeing each other for a while, he's met my family, I've met his..." she trailed off, and Ollie's gasp was clear as day from where Alfie was standing.

"You think he's going to propose?"

And just like that, Alfie's heart dropped to his stomach. He tore his ear from the wall, storming back to his desk, dropping to the seat with a heavy thud.

Of course Elijah was going to propose, of fucking course. She had been seeing him for the better part of four months, and she spent every waking minute talking about the nice doctor, it was natural that his was how it was going to progress.

He regretted not cornering Elijah on is way to work the moment she had mentioned his name, regretted not giving him the same treatment he gave the two men that came before him. He should have, should have twisted the man's arm behind his back until he was crying like a little girl, should have had his men hold him down while he kicked him in his ribs until blood came out of his mouth, he should have put the barrel of his gun to his head an pulled the trigger.

But to what end?

She was a good girl. She wanted to get married, have a few children and take care of the house while her husband was at work.

Alfie couldn't offer her that.

Everything he could offer her, he already had. He had given her protection, a stable income, and some form of friendship. He could never give her what she truly craved. He knew that, no matter his feelings for her - feelings he didn't understand himself - he couldn't give her the life she deserved.

And that thought made him sick.

The room was too hot for him to sit in any longer. Alfie pushed through the crowd of people, shoving them harder than necessary until he reached the door, the sound of music and laughter fading as the heavy door closed behind him.

He took a seat on a damp wooden bench, his head dropping in his hands.

It had been a lovely ceremony, a bit small, and a bit cheap for his tastes, but she had managed to make it lovely anyways.

He stood when she entered, her parents on either side of her, walking her to the end of the aisle.

She didn't spare Alfie a glance, too busy looking ahead - looking at him. The bitterness twisted in his stomach and it took all the self control he possessed to keep a neutral look on his face.

Elijah met her at the end of the aisle, taking her hand and helping her up the little steps, a sickening smile on his face.

Alfie didn't miss the sympathetic glance Ollie, who was beside him, threw him.

"Not enjoying the party?" her voice was as sweet as anything, full of happiness.

"Weddings ain't really my thing, love," he offered her a smile, it dropping as quickly as it came.

"But this isn't just any wedding, Alfie," she said, taking a seat next to him. "It's mine, you should be happy."

"Why is that?"

"You've finally gotten rid of me," she laughed, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You don't have to pay me to sit around and do nothing all day, should save you a bit of money."

Alfie didn't laugh with her, a bitter smile on his face as he looked down at his hands.

"Oh don't tell me you're sad about me leaving?" her voice held nothing but humour and Alfie wanted to scream at her.

How can you be so blind?

Can't you see I love you?

"Nah, I'm just upset it took this long," he said eventually, rising from his seat, patting her on the shoulder as did. "I'm gonna head out, but congratulations, love. You look very beautiful."

Her eyes softened at his words, her smile widening from where she was sat, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling.

He didn't have time to react when she shot up from her seat, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to her.

"You're the best friend I could have asked for, Alfie," she whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat, pulling her arms away from his shoulders and taking a step back. "Fuck off, now. You're missing your own wedding you stupid woman."

She laughed, nodding her head and disappearing back into the building before Alfie could blink, leaving him frozen in place, the bitterness that once consumed him being replaced by what felt like an all-encompassing sadness.

'The best friend I could have asked for."

What a fucking joke that was.

#alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x oc

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honeyedmiller · 27 days ago

Text

A Burning Desire part nine

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist

synopsis: inevitable trials and tribulations ensue with joel and tommy’s return from san angelo.

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

word count: 9.2k

warnings: lots of angst and emotions, trauma responses, mentions and descriptions of death, mentions of burns on a body, mentions of cause of death, funeral, family fluff, mentions of pregnancy (reader’s sister), no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my first real crack at writing angst like this, so i hope i did a decent job. hope you enjoy <3

You: Hey, are you free tonight after work by any chance?

Maria: Absolutely. What’s up?

You: I want to take you on a drive. I have a plan and I want to tell you all about it.

You’re grateful Maria doesn’t ask too many questions, because she agreed to your proposal and left it at that.

It’s Friday, and since Sarah will be with her friends from the soccer team, it’ll just be you and Maria in the house.

It’s a day shy of a month since Joel and Tommy left, and your heart aches at the empty spot beside you in the bed when you wake up and go to sleep. You never consider yourself to be a clingy person, but since Joel’s accident months ago, the worry in you clings to your body like Saran Wrap.

He still checks in every night as promised, but seeing him over a screen instead of having him physically by your side is a vastly different thing.

Maria comes home around four and she’s by your side ready to go an hour later.

You both enjoy the late golden afternoon sun and music softly playing in the background for fifteen minutes before Maria asks you the burning question.

“So what’s this about?” She asks, the warm air whipping through the rolled down windows of your car. It’s early May, and summer is quickly approaching.

“So you know that car accident I got into nine months ago?” You ask, taking the exit off the highway, beginning to head into the countryside.

She nods. “Mhm.”

“So it turns out, whoever hit me is some big wig’s kid. The parents cut me a check and it’s sitting in my underwear drawer as we speak,” you explain.

“Oh shit. How much is the check? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You shake your head and wave a hand. “Not at all. But that’s the fucking insane part. They wrote me a check for half a million fucking dollars, Maria.”

Her jaw pops open. She stares at you from the passenger seat in utter disbelief, and you roll your lips into your mouth to keep from laughing, because you know just how insane this all sounds. It’s exactly how you felt when you opened the envelope.

“What the fuck?” Is all she responds, and you nod.

“I said the same thing.”

“Have you told anyone about this?”

You shake your head. “You’re the first person.”

“Well shit,” she laughs breathlessly, “I’m honored.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth before you puff a breath of air.

You pull down the ranch road a few minutes later, and the familiar crunch of gravel underneath tires fills the air before you come to a stop, putting the car in park.

You turn off your car and face her, and she’s looking at you like everything you’ve said is just batshit crazy and unreal.

Because, in all honesty, it is.

She finally takes in the surroundings, and furrows her brows. “What is this place?”

“It’s their uncle’s ranch. Joel took me here in January for a horseback riding date and we’ve been coming back whenever we just need a tiny break from everything.”

“You two are so in love it makes me sick,” she teases, and you wag your finger at her before pointing to the beautiful engagement ring on her left hand.

“Don’t even start with me. Tommy looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars. He loves you more than life itself.”

Maria smiles bashfully as she studies the ring that fits perfectly on her finger.

“Who knew that we’d go from being in cubicles talking about boy troubles to finding our men that would lead us here years later,” she laughs. “Happy and with the loves of our lives. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It really is. I’m so happy you’ve found someone who treats you with love and respect. Tommy is so infatuated with you. Rightfully so.”

“And Joel with you. I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at you. The eyes never lie.”

You huff a laugh and shake your head, heart clenching in your chest at how much you miss him.

“I’m sure you won’t be too far behind either,” she says, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion. She lifts her left hand, sun reflecting off the oval-shaped diamond sitting on her finger. It sparkles brilliantly and you can’t help but smile.

“Thank you for encouraging me throughout the months. I really appreciate you validating my feelings and understanding my hesitancy with my relationship with Joel when it was brand new. My ex was—is—a piece of shit who destroyed my confidence and made me truly believe I’d never find true love.”

Maria clasps her hands over yours, giving them a squeeze of reassurance.

“I don’t know what came over me at the coffee shop that first day Joel and I met. It wasn’t even the uniform. I paid for his coffee as a small thank you for what he does, but it was his kind eyes and smile that did me in. I’ve been a goner since then.”

Maria smiles at you adoringly, and you nod your head toward the ranch. “Joel told me his uncle was thinking of selling the ranch,” you start, and Maria gasps.

“No way. No freaking way,” she says, and you actively see the wheels turning in her head, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

“You’re going to see about buying it, aren’t you?”

You nod.

“I am. This place means so much to Joel and Tommy and I can’t bear the thought of not allowing them the chance of carrying it on in their family. This is the perfect place to raise a family, to make new memories to add to the ones they both have as little boys here.”

“My god, woman. Joel is going to lose his mind. He’ll love this.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. This place is so near and dear to his heart. I don’t see why he wouldn’t love it.”

“I just want him to be happy.”

Maria moves a hand to your shoulder, dark brown eyes staring into yours with a fierceness.

“He is happy, honey. You make him happy.”

Your nose twitches to get rid of the burn, the threat of tears stinging behind your eyeballs.

“Now c’mon,” she says, jutting her chin toward the beautiful two story home.

You both make your way to the front door before you knock on it, and a couple of minutes later an older gentleman with a big white mustache and a black cowboy hat on his head answers the door.

He looks between you and Maria and furrows his eyebrows, and you shoot him a big smile.

“Hi, Robert Miller?” You ask, and he nods.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you. We’re Joel and Tommy’s partners,” you explain, waving a hand between your body and Maria’s.

“Ah, so you’re the young ladies who have my nephews all smitten,” he says, grinning at you both.

You laugh and nod.

“What can I do you ladies for?” He asks.

“I wanted to talk to you and see if you were still thinking about selling the ranch.”

The next day, you and Maria sit on the couch with a glass of wine in your palms as you discuss small details she’d want in her wedding. You’re both so lost in conversation that you don’t notice the front door unlocking.

It swings open to reveal two very exhausted Miller brothers, and you almost drop your glass at the sight of them both.

“Oh my god,” you cry, putting your cup down on the coaster in front of you, springing to your feet. Maria follows suit, and you both glance at each other in disbelief.

“Miss us?” Tommy smirks, and Maria rolls her watery eyes while she pushes herself into his body.

“Like hell,” you say, launching yourself into Joel’s arms. He hugs you so tightly, and you almost can’t believe he’s here.

You breathe in his scent, tears stinging your eyes once again.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re here,” you parrot your thoughts, sobbing into Joel’s neck.

He runs his hand soothingly down your back, kissing your hair repeatedly.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel it in his body language—he needs to hold you right now.

Your arms squeeze him tighter, one hand raking up to the curls at the base of his neck. You separate your head from his body with a lilting smile.

“You need a haircut,” you tease, and you feel the way he huffs a laugh before cradling the back of your head. You look into his eyes and notice a sadness that wasn’t there before he left. There’s no familiar spark of joy.

He looks almost… haunted.

It was evident that something happened while they were in San Angelo.

And with that realization, a gut wrenching, nauseating feeling permeates throughout your entire body.

You scratch Joel’s scalp with your fingertips in a soothing motion, just the way he likes it.

“Fuck. I’m ready to go home and take the longest nap of my life,” Tommy groans.

Your lips twitch in slight amusement, and Maria laughs against his chest as she pulls apart from him.

“Let’s get you home then, handsome.”

You smile at them as they leave toward the guest bedroom where Maria’s stuff is.

Your eyes shift back to Joel as soon as they’re out of sight.

“Let’s get you settled in, hm?” You ask, kissing the tip of his nose. He manages a smile and nods, and you take his duffel bag from his hands.

He opens his mouth to protest, but you put a finger to his lips to shush him. “No lip from you, Miller. You need your rest. Now get your fine ass upstairs,” you instruct.

It pulls a genuine chuckle from Joel, and your heart fucking swoons at the noise. It’s so good to have him back in front of you. He’s tangible. Not behind a screen.

“Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s taking a nap in her room. She’s going to be so excited to see you.”

Joel kisses your head before he treads upstairs and you take his duffel bag to the laundry room, sorting the clothes correctly before starting a load. You catch Tommy and Maria on their way out, hugging them and kissing them both on the cheek.

Joel is halfway down the stairs again before you round the corner, and he stops in his tracks.

“Come to bed with me. Please. I missed you so much,” he says. His voice is quiet. Solemn.

You nod and head upstairs with him, getting comfortable under the lightweight comforter that adorns your shared bed.

You’re facing each other, and you both lay there while looking into each other’s eyes.

“Honey,” you coo, reaching a hand out to stroke his cheek. “What happened out there?”

The look on his face is soul-crushing. His eyes instantly gloss over and he shakes his head, pulling you close as he rests his head on your chest. He takes a few deep breaths, inhaling your scent before kissing the skin there.

You sigh and rub his back soothingly, not wanting to rush him or force him to talk about something he isn’t ready to vocalize.

You also worry about him pushing you away, too. You promised him early on in your relationship that he could come to you with anything, especially if it was about work.

You sigh and kiss his curls, worry slinking through your veins.

Just give it time.

They say time heals all wounds.

You’re not so sure about that.

It’s been a month since Joel and Tommy’s return, and Joel is…different.

He still won’t talk about what happened out there, and he’s been pulling away more and more. He’s less talkative, less affectionate, more withdrawn. He doesn’t smile as much, either, and to see it all happening right before you absolutely obliterates your heart and crushes your soul.

You never want to see him hurting, but he simply won’t open up to you—or anyone, for that matter. Tommy tells you that they fought some gnarly fires out in San Angelo, and there were two unfortunate deaths in other firehouses, so that might be what’s shaken Joel up.

You try and make sense of it all, piecing the puzzle together for Joel’s behavior, and you can imagine he saw something that nobody should ever have to see in their lifetime.

Today, he and Tommy are attending the funeral of one of the men who passed away. You and Maria were asked to go for moral support, which of course you two didn’t turn down. You watch Joel in the mirror as he fumbles with his collar, and you step up behind him to put your hands on his shoulders.

He tenses under your touch and you immediately pull your hands away, a small frown forming on your lips. He’s never tensed at your touch. He turns around slowly, wordlessly, and looks at you with an apology clear as day in his eyes.

You reach up again, hesitant this time, but Joel grabs your wrists and holds your hands on his chest.

You slide your hands up to fix his collar, tucking it into his suit jacket. His Class A uniform adorns his body, and if it were under any other circumstance, you’d tell him how good he looks.

But you resort to straightening his lapels and his badge that sits on the left side of his uniform. Your eyes drift down as you run your fingers over the gold buttons of his jacket. You step back from him, giving him a once-over. His gloves and hat lay on the bed, so you retrieve them for him before meeting his gaze once again.

It kills you to see the man you love hurting so much, and you wish you could do more than offer your comfort. You know it’s not enough, but you really don’t want to stir the pot by asking him to open up to you and tell you how you can help him.

Maybe it was him reverting to his old ways, staying closed off like he would with his ex. Except you’ve made it abundantly clear that he didn’t need to do that anymore.

His gaze softens the longer he looks at you, and he opens his mouth to say something, but it snaps shut as soon as he hears the front door open. You clear your throat and give him a forced smile, turning to walk downstairs. You greet Tommy and Maria at the door, and immediately Maria clocks that something’s incredibly wrong.

Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at you, and your lips wobble a little before sighing, holding back the tears. She links her arm with yours and steps outside with you, walking toward Tommy’s truck.

“Talk to me, honey,” she coos, and a single tear slips from your eyes as you look up at the bright blue sky.

“He still won’t talk to me about it, Maria. He’s shutting me out and it’s fucking killing me. I don’t want to force him to talk about it, but I don’t know what to do.” The column of your throat works as you swallow harshly, sniffling as you try and will away the rest of the tears that want to escape.

“He’s been distant in general, too. He tensed up at my touch today. Usually he’s all over me, but for the past month, he’s barely even put his hands on me. I don’t know if this is his way of shutting down, but I want to do something to help him before he completely spirals.”

“Fuck,” she sighs under her breath, pulling you into a hug.

“Well I wanna distract your mind right now. Have you heard from Robert yet about the ranch?” She keeps her voice low as she watches for Tommy and Joel. They’re still inside, probably talking.

You blink. “Oh, yeah,” you start, “He agreed. It’s thirty acres of land. He said seventy five was good, and I tried to offer him a full one hundred but he refused me and said it was too much and that he was happy to sell it so it could stay in the family.”

“Oh wow, that’s amazing. So how long is the process going to take?”

“I’m not sure, actually, but I got his phone number before we left so he and I could stay in touch.”

Tommy and Joel come out of the house, and their expressions—two complete opposites of each other—take you aback.

Tommy looks pissed with a scowl on his face and Joel looks sad. Defeated, almost.

“Everything all good here?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow. You look between the two brothers, and Tommy unlocks his truck.

“All good,” he grumbles. Joel opens the back door for you and you slide in, and he takes his seat next to you. Tommy’s truck roars to life and you’re all on your way.

A few minutes after Tommy gets onto the freeway, Joel slides his hand over to yours and grabs it, giving it a soft squeeze. Your gaze snaps to him, forgetting all about the flatland that surrounds you outside the car that you were so intently staring at.

He holds your hand the rest of the way there. You four make your way to the church, and Tommy and Joel sit with some of their coworkers and captain while you and Maria sit more toward the back, wanting to respect the attendees and the man’s whole firehouse.

It’s a beautiful but devastating ceremony, and even from back where you’re sitting you can see Joel’s shoulders stiffen, body taut throughout the whole ceremony.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, and only when everyone goes into the next room to eat some food do you straighten out your worried expression.

“I need a drink,” Joel mutters beside you, and you look at him with that same worried expression once again. Him drinking while he was in this mental state didn’t seem like the best combination.

You’re not sure where the line is drawn between being a truly concerned girlfriend and telling him that probably isn’t the greatest idea, and coming off as too controlling or overbearing.

Tommy shoots Joel a warning look. You try and wrap your hand gently around Joel’s forearm, and he flinches again. You sigh and let go of him, trying to puzzle together what’s going on in his mind and his actions that are quite frankly starting to give you whiplash.

“Tommy, can I borrow the keys to your truck really quick?” You ask, and he gives you a small smile before fishing the keys out of his pocket and putting them into the palm of your hand.

You mumble a small thank you before you head back to the parking lot, unlocking the truck before sliding into the backseat. You lean forward and stick the key into the ignition to crack the windows down a smidgen before fully slumping into the bench of the back seat.

You scrub your hands over your face, mental exhaustion hitting you all at once. As much as you hate to admit it, you need an ounce of space. Maybe Joel does too, because he seems to be pushing you away more and more.

You’re trying to be understanding and patient with him, but you’ve never seen this part of him—the part where he knows dark clouds are looming over his mind all day, and he chokes up on simply talking about what happened that made him curl in on himself.

You slip your phone out of your purse, tapping on the family group chat.

You: Hey guys. I know it’s last minute, but is anyone up for a family dinner tonight?

Dad: Ok

Mom: Hi sweetie. Absolutely. Our house? Six o’clock?

Emi: Heck yeah. One last family hoorah looking like a watermelon is in my tummy.

Cole: I’m in. Just strictly family?

Andy: Why? You wanna bring your new girlfriend?

Cole: Not around you, jerk.

Andy: Oh c’mon, she’s gotta meet the Brady Bunch, as Shadow called it, sooner or later. I’m in, btw. I miss mom’s cooking.

Emi: You’re both airheads. But I agree, your cooking is missed, mama.

Cole: That’s rude. Just know I’m rolling my eyes at all of you. Except Mom and Dad.

You: I didn’t even do anything.

Cole: Doesn’t matter. You’re automatically affiliated with the other goons. Is Joel coming too?

You: Nope, just me tonight. Sorry you can’t hang out with your boyfriend.

Andy: What a shame. Guess I won’t get all dolled up for tonight after all.

Mom: Enough, all of you. Can’t wait to see my babies tonight. <3

Andy: Who taught Mom the heart emoticon?

A laugh turned sob evades your throat, and a tear slips down your cheek. You miss your family so much, and you know tonight will make you feel better. You let a few more tears slip before you gather your bearings, wiping the tears away and slipping out of the truck.

You just needed a moment away. A moment where people couldn’t see you crying. You suppose it wouldn’t look too odd considering you’re at a funeral, but crying over someone you literally don’t even know would probably attract attention and garner more confusion than needed.

You slip back into the crowd, easily finding Tommy and Joel before handing Tommy the keys back to his truck.

“Everything okay?” Tommy asks. He cocks a concerned brow at your glassy eyes.

Your sniffle is a dead giveaway. “Yeah,” you say softly, and Tommy glares at Joel because he knows you’re not telling the truth.

“Wanna head out soon?” Tommy asks everyone, and Maria grabs your arm gently and nods, walking ahead of the brothers with you in tow.

“I’m gonna give him a little bit of space tonight,” you say to her, and she looks at you understandingly.

“If you need to crash at mine and Tommy’s, you’re always more than welcome,” she says.

You give her a small smile and lightly squeeze her arm.

“Thank you. I’m going over to my folks’ place tonight. We’re gonna have a family dinner.”

“That sounds really nice. Tell them I say hi.”

“Tell who you say hi?” Tommy asks.

“Nosey,” Maria scolds him, making you laugh.

“My family. We’re having dinner tonight at my parents' place. One last gathering before my sister has her baby.”

“That’s so nice. Tell them I say hi too,” Tommy grins. You give him a nod and glance at Joel, and the sad look in his eyes fucking kills you.

The ride back home is silent until you give Maria and Tommy a kiss on the cheek goodbye before heading inside, Joel hot on your trail.

You make it into the kitchen before you hear the gravelly sound of his voice.

“Baby,” Joel calls out, and your eyes close and at the sound of the pet name.

You spin around, gripping onto the countertop to keep yourself steady.

“I’m just having dinner with my family tonight, Joel. To give you some space.”

“I don’t need—” He sighs, slumping down onto a chair at the dining table. “I don’t need space,” he finishes.

“Then what do you need, Joel?” Your eyes sting once again and you look up at the ceiling.

“Listen. I’m trying to be patient and let you come to me on your own time, but you’re just pushing me further away. I’m so sorry for whatever happened out there. I know I can’t resonate with what you’re going through, and I wish I knew the right things to say. But I’m telling you I’m here for you, Joel. You don’t need to bottle up what you’re feeling around me. I want you to feel comfortable telling me these things, but I don’t want to force it out of you. So I’m giving you a little bit of space.”

You scrub your hands over your face again, a lone tear falling down your cheek.

“I love you so much, Joel. It kills me seeing you like this. I miss you. Sarah misses you.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath. His head is hung low between his shoulder blades, elbows on his knees as he knots his hands together and fidgets them anxiously.

You push yourself off of the counter and round it to kneel in front of him. You cover his hands with yours, bringing his knuckles up to your mouth to kiss them tenderly.

“I promise I’m not trying to make you feel guilt or anything. I’m just being honest with you. I love you, Joel. I’m not going anywhere. I just want to know how to help you.”

You give his knuckles one last kiss before standing up, making your way upstairs to get ready for dinner with your family.

You come back downstairs half an hour later. Joel is still in the same spot, and you want to cry at the sight.

You walk over to him and his head shoots up. You didn’t realize how tired he looks until now. Dark circles adorn the space underneath his eyes and his beautiful brown irises are still void of the light you wish you could put back in them.

He reaches out for your hand, gently coaxing you to sit on one of his thighs. You lean into him, running a hand through his soft curls while kissing his temple repeatedly.

You sit like that for a while, and this is what he might need, you think. To just sit in silence and physically be touching you while he sorts his thoughts. He turns his head to kiss your bare shoulder before leaning his forehead down on it.

“I love you so much, sweet girl. I’m so sorry.” His voice is hoarse, a pang of guilt and disappointment laced into his tone.

“I love you too, Joel. We’ll get through this. And I have every faith that you’ll get through this, too. Just please, please don’t shut me out. Let me be your escape. Tell me how I can help.”

”That’s just the thing, though. I don’t know how I can be helped, and I certainly don’t want to put that burden onto you. I don’t want to be a burden, even though I know I already am.”

You sharply inhale at his words, pulling away from him as you search his eyes. His brows are furrowed and he’s frowning, almost like he’s frustrated. Not with you, though. With himself.

“Joel Miller, you are not a burden, you hear me? This may be a rough time, but you’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling,” you sigh. You pause, rolling your lips into your mouth as you carefully contemplate your next words.

“Everyone copes differently, and if you don’t ever want to talk about what happened, then I simply need to respect that. But I am your partner, Joel, which means you don’t need to go through this alone. I need you to know that and understand that I wouldn’t ever force you into talking about something you weren’t ready to speak about, nor would I belittle you if you choose to speak about it. It just hurts to see you pull away or flinch at my touch. I want to be your peace, your safe space. Please let me be that for you.”

You both stew in the silence afterwards, your words lingering in the air.

”What did I do to deserve you?” He whispers, and you shake your head.

You kiss his temple one more time before getting off of his lap, and this time, he’s hesitant to let you go. You feel like staying too, but you really need to do this—give each other space for a few hours. Plus, you miss your family a lot and you could really use a few laughs and positive energy right now.

“I’ll be home in a few hours, okay?” Your voice is almost a whisper. He nods and you walk out of the front door without looking back at him, because you know if you do, those big brown eyes will lure you right back to him just like they have from day one.

You walk in through the front door of your parents’ house, slipping off your sandals before making your way into the kitchen where you hear a couple of voices.

“There she is!” Your mom says, and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi Mama,” you say, hugging her and kissing her cheek.

“Hey baby girl,” your dad says, giving you a hug.

Your eyes lock on Emily, and she’s absolutely glowing. Her hand is rubbing her stomach soothingly, and you make your way around the counter to bend down and kiss her stomach. She chuckles before you envelope her in a hug.

“Are you excited?” You ask. Her due date is in a couple of weeks, and you’re all waiting for the day you get to meet your nephew.

“I am, but I want this baby out of me. Josh has been a saint taking care of me.”

“As he should. You’re literally growing life inside you,” you deadpan. But you know Josh has and always will take care of your sister.

“I know. Isn’t that crazy? It’s even weirder when he moves and kicks.”

You smile at her, taking a seat next to her at the dining room table.

Her voice drops an octave as she leans in, grabbing your hand.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck, she knows you like the back of her hand.

“Is it that obvious?” You reply, eyes meeting hers.

“Maybe not to the others, but I know you better than anyone, and I can tell something is wrong. Something seems… off.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m on the brink of insanity.”

She laughs at that, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Let’s go insane together. What’s on your mind?” She asks, keeping her voice low enough so nobody else can hear.

“Joel and I are going through a rough patch, but we’re… handling it.”

Emily’s eyebrows furrow before she sighs.

”I don’t want to pry and stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I hope whatever it is you’re going through gets better.”

You’re thankful your sister isn’t prying, honestly. You really don’t think you have the energy to talk about this with another person anyway. Maria, and you presume Tommy, knowing about what’s going on is already enough. This is something you need to take care of on your own.

The front door opens and your brothers walk through. “Ah, just in time. Dinner is ready,” your mom says, her and your dad setting everything on the table.

“I could’ve helped with that, Ma,” you say, and she waves her hand.

“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re all here. I can’t remember the last time it was just us six,” she says.

Andy and Cole sit across from you and Emi, while your mom and dad take each end of the table.

“Hey sweet pea, how are Joel and Tommy doing? We have to get together soon and celebrate them being home now,” your mom says.

You almost physically flinch at the idea. Emily finds your hand under the table again and squeezes it, and you squeeze right back.

You really don’t know how to answer that question. You could tell the truth, or you could avoid putting Joel’s business out there. You choose Joel.

“They’re alright, just settling back in. I know they’re happy to be home.”

Your voice strangles around the lie, and your mom almost looks suspicious, but she lets it go… for now.

“Well I’m glad they’re both home safe,” she says.

You give her a small smile. “Me too.”

Everyone jumps into conversation about what Emily and Josh’s plans are for when the baby is ready to make his official debut into the world.

Emily doesn’t let go of your hand once.

You zone out for a bit, missing some of the conversation until Emi’s stern voice catches your attention.

“Word of advice. Don’t piss off a severely pregnant woman, Andy.” Emi glares at your brother while pointing her fork in his direction, and you and Cole look at each other, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Men,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. Emily and your mom laugh at that while the other three give you a fake glare.

“Anyway, it was really good to see all of you. We really should do this more often,” Andy says.

“Going all soft on us now, brother?” You quirk an eyebrow. You honestly live for the way you can give your brothers shit and they throw it right back to you. It’s all jokes, and at the end of the day, you know they love you—even if they don’t like to admit it out loud.

“Okay, everyone except Shadow,” Andy rephrases, and your jaw drops in fake offense.

You shift to grin at him anyway and flip him off, and your mom calls your name in horror as your dad laughs.

“Not at the table! I swear you four are impossible sometimes,” she huffs. You all laugh, and you reach over to grab her hand.

“We love you, mama. Thanks for always dealing with our bullshit, even as adults,” you say. She grins and kisses your hand.

“I’d do anything for my babies. I’m glad y’all still come around even though you’ve all got your own lives.”

“Damn ma, don’t make us cry,” Andy jokes, and everyone laughs again.

“It’s just nice to do this. It reminds me of when y’all were little. And now you’re all grown, and our family is growing. It’s not very long before Emi and Josh welcome their baby boy into the world, and probably not far off from you and Joel getting engaged to be married and having kids of your own. Cole with his new beau, and Andy, whoever you meet, I hope they keep you in check.”

You bark out a laugh at the last words your mom says, because you told him the exact same thing. You point at him and shake your head. Andy looks at you and rolls his eyes, sighing before looking at your mom.

“I know, ma. I just wanted to have fun for a little while, but I’m getting too old for that shit now and I really think I want to settle down with someone nice. I don’t want to force anything though, you know? I just want it to happen naturally.”

You’re stunned by your brother’s words. He’s never been the type anyone can tie down. He’s always been free-spirited and wild, always partying and having fun. Not really giving a flying fuck for as far as the eye can see.

Hearing him confess this to your mom, in front of everyone for that matter, is refreshing. He deserves to find that once-in-a-lifetime type partner; a true love.

“And you’ll find them, baby. It’ll happen when you’re not even expecting anything at all. That’s how it happened for your dad and I,” she says, looking at your dad as she finishes. He shoots her a wink from across the table. You smile at the exchange, feeling extremely warm and lucky to have had such a great example of the type of love you’d hoped would find you one day.

And now it has. And it makes you miss Joel, even though you saw him mere hours ago. You wish he was by your side right now. You’ll both get through this. You love him way too much to ever give up on him—not that that thought had ever crossed your mind in the first place.

You just want him to be okay.

You’re all stepping out of the front door of your mom and dad’s house, Tupperware in each of your hands as you kiss and hug your parents goodbye.

“Please text us when you get home, all of you,” your mom says in her stern Mom Voice, and everyone promises they will. Before you can get into your car, Andy calls your name gently. He walks up to your car, and he eyes you conspicuously.

“Is everything okay with you?” He asks. You furrow your brows, and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. You don’t know why, but your eyes sting terribly and before you know it, silent tears are cascading down your cheeks. You avert your gaze to the side, and Andy sighs before pulling you into a comforting hug. He kisses your hair before rubbing your back.

You truly can’t say you saw this coming—him noticing something is off, him asking about it, him comforting you in a way you don’t think he ever has. It’s a nice change from the constant jokes, jabs and bickering, though.

“Do I need to kick some ass?” He asks, and your shoulders shake as you laugh.

You sniffle and pull apart from him. “No, not today. I’ll be okay. Promise.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You sure? You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you? I know I’m not Emily and all, ‘cus I know how close you two are, but if you ever need anything—and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”

You nod at him, sniffling again before giving him another quick hug. You pull apart from him completely, lightly slugging him on the arm to break up the bit of tension.

“Damn Andy, you really have gone soft,” you tease. He chuckles and rolls his eyes, giving your bicep a squeeze.

“Shut up.”

You both laugh, and once you settle down, you give him a serious look.

“Hey, listen,” you start. “You’ll find your someone. And when you do, just know I’ll be the first to root for you. They’d be lucky to have you.”

You smile at him, and he returns it before his eyes shoot to the ground.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to be around sometimes, so this means a lot to me. Thanks, baby sis.”

You nod and give him one more hug. “People who think you’re hard to be around just don’t know you like your family does, Andy. You’re a great guy. Maybe a pain in the ass sometimes,” you both chuckle at that, “But you’ve secretly got a big heart behind that ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ exterior that you have going on. Maybe it’s time you drop that façade and show the world how kindhearted you really are.”

This time you give his arm a reassuring squeeze, and he smiles at you.

“I needed to hear that. Thank you. I love you, okay? Tell Joel and Sarah I send my love.”

You nod, opening your car door. “I love you too. And I will. Drive safe,” you say, before getting into your car to drive back home.

You open the door and slip your sandals off once again, locking the lock before padding into the living room to see the TV playing the rolling credits to a movie. Joel and Sarah are on the couch, both knocked out cold. Her head rests on his shoulder and his head rests on top of hers. You smile at the sight, slinking into the kitchen to put the plentiful leftovers your mom sent home with you into the fridge, trying to be as quiet as possible.

You send a quick text to your family group chat letting everyone know you got home safe, seeing your siblings texted the same thing a few minutes prior.

You make your way back into the living room, maneuvering over between the coffee table and couch to pull up the blanket that had fallen down. You drape it over their bodies, giving them both a kiss on the forehead before you make your way upstairs. You do your night routine before slipping into Joel’s old Texas A&M shirt and some sleep shorts, getting comfortable in bed.

You don’t know how long it is before you feel the other side of the bed—Joel’s side—dip with his weight, throwing the sheet you had over your body over his too. You stir a bit and blink your tired eyes open, turning to look at him as your eyes adjust to the darkness in the room.

“Joel?” You murmur, voice thick with exhaustion. Your eyes glance over him to see the red blinking numbers on the alarm clock on his nightstand—4:36 a.m.

“Shh, go back to sleep honeybee,” he whispers, and you turn back around before he kisses your neck, pulling you into his body. Your heart bursts at the contact. It’s something you’ve missed terribly. You find it easier to fall asleep in his embrace, and before you know it, you’re out like a light once again.

You wake the next day to the bed empty beside you. You frown before pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes, rubbing them to wake yourself up a bit more. You sit up before blinking, and your phone buzzing on your nightstand catches your attention. You go into the bathroom and quickly freshen up for the day before heading back to the nightstand to retrieve your phone.

You pick it up, and gasp to see that it’s nearly twelve in the afternoon. You didn’t realize how late it was.

You tap on the notification to see a text from Tommy, which makes your heart drop to your ass.

Tommy: Hey there little lady. Is Joel at home with you?

You get out of bed to realize that there’s no sign of him. You check everywhere upstairs before making your way downstairs in a slight panic, looking through every room and space before realizing he’s not here. Wasn’t he supposed to be at work?

You realize Sarah isn’t home, either.

You: Hey Tommy. He isn’t here. I thought he was at work?

You shoot Sarah a quick text to see where she’s at too, and she replies that she’s spending a few days over at her friend Katie’s house. Partial relief floods through you that she’s safe, but you worry about Joel.

Tommy: He left work early today. Told Cap he wasn’t feeling well.

Fuck.

You: How long ago was this?

Tommy: A couple of hours ago.

Tommy: Fuck, don’t tell me my brother is missing.

You sigh as you stare at the words on your screen, but ailment flees your body as realization dawns on you.

You: I think I might know where he’s at.

Tommy: Thank god. Please let me know if he’s safe.

You: Will do.

You don’t even think about changing your clothes—you throw your phone into your purse, slip on your flip flops that are by the front door, and snag your car keys from the bowl on the entryway side table.

You lock up before getting into your car, starting toward the ranch. You may be breaking a couple of laws by how fast you’re driving, but in this moment, you couldn’t give two fucks. All that mattered was getting to Joel. Making sure he’s okay.

Well, okay in a physical sense.

You silently hope that he’s actually where you think he is. Panic slinks through your bones at the thought of him not being there, but you trudge ahead anyway. Your pulse thrums quickly, music in your car drowned out by your thoughts and blood pounding in your ears.

You turn down the ranch road, speeding up even more before the familiar sound of gravel crunches under your tires.

Relief floods your body when you see Joel’s truck. You throw your car in park next to it, hopping out and scanning the area only to find him perched up underneath a tree in the shade facing the creek. You shoot Tommy a quick text letting him know Joel is okay, and you pause to stare at him for a second.

You close your eyes and sigh, making your way over to him. You tread lightly, almost as if you’d startle him if you walked up too fast.

You hear a soft melody, and as you get closer to him, you realize he’s strumming a familiar tune on his guitar. His eyes are closed and he’s tapping a foot to the rhythm of the song.

“Hey there, cowboy,” you say softly, and his eyes shoot open. He looks up at you in pure shock.

“How’d you know I was over here?” He asks, and you take a seat beside him, leaning back against the large trunk of the tree.

“Tommy said you left work early. Asked me if you were home. Pretty sure you can fill in the blanks.”

“I can always count on my little brother to be in my business.” He rolls his eyes and sighs, propping the guitar up on the other side of him.

“He’s just looking out for you, Joel. He loves you and wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay.” He scoffs at the word.

You roll your lips into your mouth and sigh, looking out at the creek. Silence falls between you both, and you feel Joel’s eyes take in your appearance, but you don’t look at him. You look at the glistening water, focus on the birds singing their songs, horses snorting and whinnying in the distance.

There’s a closeness here—a familiarity that has settled in the land, everything it has to offer wrapping a comfort around you both like a weighted blanket. A nice, welcome sort of relaxation.

You think about telling Joel about how you’re buying the land from his uncle. How this will someday be your everyday norm. How you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him, have kids with him, create new memories here with him and your family. But you keep that little secret locked up for now.

It’s silent for a little while longer, enjoying the sounds of nature before Joel’s gruff voice cuts through the air.

“We were up in a helicopter to get an aerial view of the bigger fire,” he starts, and your gaze snaps to him. Your heart starts to pound against your ribcage as you realize he’s telling you what’s been ailing him the past several weeks.

You’re deadly silent. As still as a statue. You freeze, because you don’t want to disrupt him in any way shape or form.

“We got back down on the ground after assessing it, many of us were partnered up in groups of five to try and tackle the fire from multiple angles. We got it under control after a few hours, and our captains wanted us to switch teams. I was walkin’ back to base when Johnny—the man whose funeral we attended—collapsed right next to me. He had no heartbeat. We tried to resuscitate him, but we’d come to find burns on his chest and abdomen. He wasn’t wearin’ his gear properly. We don’t know if it was from exhaustion, from carelessness, or whatever the case may have been. Crazy part is, he didn’t die from the burns. He died from extensive smoke inhalation.”

You swallow and reach for his hand, and he grips onto yours like a vice. You don’t say anything, silently urging him to continue.

“I was lookin’ into the eyes of this man—somebody’s son, somebody’s husband, somebody’s father,” he sighs, bringing his knees up toward his chest. He rests his elbows on his knees, letting go of your hand before digging the palms of his hands into his eyes before he continues. “All I kept thinkin’ at that moment was that it could've been me.”

He takes a few breaths before dangling his arms off of his knees, glossy eyes looking up at the bright blue sky.

“When I first started this job, I didn’t have a kid or a partner to worry about. It was just Tommy and I against the world. Two reckless, young fools who love to help people,” a dry, crackled chuckle evades his throat.

“But then we got older. And then Sarah came along. Maria came along for Tommy. You came along for me. And I just… I wanna be there for the milestones that life has to offer every single one of us. I wanna see my little brother get married to the love of his life. I wanna send my baby girl off to college. I wanna marry you someday soon and grow our family with you. I wanna get to grow old with you, and be by your side as our grandchildren surround us one day. I can’t have any of that if I’m doin’ a job that won’t guarantee me tomorrow.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and you want so badly to reach over and wipe it away just as he does for you, but your limbs feel like steel and you’re finding it harder to breathe normally as you soak in every single one of his words.

“It’s taken me nearly twenty years of doing this job to finally realize this. Sarah knocked a heap load of sense into me last night, and Tommy ripped me a new one the day of the funeral,” he says, and you raise your eyebrows in shock. Pride blooms in your chest at the fact that Sarah finally talked to Joel about how she really felt about all of this, but you wonder what Tommy must’ve told him.

“Johnny was only twenty-eight. Had two beautiful kids and a wife and his whole fuckin’ life ahead of him. I saw the life leave his eyes as he collapsed right next to me, and the sickest part is that after I had called it in and we tried our best to revive him but to no avail, I had to carry on because I had a job I still needed to do. A duty I needed to fulfill. When we were at his funeral, and god, I know this sounds so fuckin’ twisted, all I could think about was that it could’ve been my picture being displayed. My body in the casket. My partner and daughter and my family, or fuck, even my firehouse in absolute shambles because I didn’t make it home. How does someone carry on like that, knowin’ it could’ve been them instead?”

His voice cracks at the last words, and you’re quick to wrap your arms around him. You don’t know how long you stay like that, just holding him and almost rocking him soothingly while he lets out all of the pent up sadness and frustration that’s been wracking his body, mind and soul for far too long.

Every time you think you have something to say to soothe him, the words die on your tongue. Because what is there to say to someone who’s experienced traumatizing things over and over again? How do you consolidate someone who’s seen more fatalities, more accidents, more devastation than a single person has seen in multiple lifetimes?

“If I could take away all of your pain, I would in a heartbeat,” you finally say. He gives your body a light squeeze before pulling away from you, brown eyes full of sadness.

“I wouldn’t wish this shit on anyone, baby.”

You nod in understanding. He sighs, maneuvering your body over his as he drops his legs to stretch out in front of him. You’re straddling him now, knees digging into the plush grass that surrounds the tree.

You lean your forehead against his, hands landing on his strong chest—right where you can feel the strong beat of his heart. You roll your head right to left against his, sighing as your hands travel up to the sides of his neck. Your touch is gentle, and you swipe a thumb over the side of his throat, back down to where his warm, tan skin dips in at the base of the front of his throat.

“Thank you for opening up to me, Joel. I know it isn’t easy for you to talk about these things, so you telling me all of this means the world to me,” you say, pulling your forehead away from his. “I love you so much.”

The column of his throat works as he swallows, and his hands move to circle around your waist. He pulls you closer to his body, and your eyes flutter shut at the closeness. God, you’ve missed this so much. You’ve missed him so much.

“I love you. I am so sorry I ever put you through any of that, baby. You didn’t deserve that, and believe me, I’m not proud of how I shut down and tried to handle this situation on my own. I keep forgettin’—no, forbidding that it’s okay to ask for help.”

You gently grab his face in your hands, thumbs sweeping over the peaks of his cheekbones. “You don’t need to apologize, Joel. I’m sorry if I was too pushy or sounded ungrateful that you didn’t want to talk about this. I just worry about you and your wellbeing so much. I didn’t want you to lose yourself in all of this, but all of this clearly stems back further than I ever even knew.”

You pause for a beat. Then, you kiss the tip of his nose. “I admire you, you know,” you start, and he leans back with a frown and furrowed brows.

“Admire me?”

You nod your head. “You’ve been through so much shit in your life, and you still manage to love the way you do. Look out for others the way you do. Care for people the way you do. You’re a resilient, brave man, Mr. Miller. And I admire the courage it takes to do a job as daunting as this one, showing up for every shift even after everything it’s put you through. And look, we can—we can find someone for you to talk to about all of this. Someone who’s trained and equipped to help you professionally, if that’s what you’d like. Just so you at least don’t need to carry the weight of…this… on your shoulders anymore,” you offer.

You kiss his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

He peels them open again, and Joel scans your face for a few silent minutes. You take the time to do the same. Your eyes roam over every freckle, every tiny scar, every beautiful feature that adorns him. There’s a slight sparkle back in his eyes, the one that you’ve silently hoped and wished would return again. It’s small, but it’s there. And it’s all yours to see at this very moment. He leans forward and kisses you softly, but there’s so much emotion behind it. An unspoken gratitude, a neediness, an unforgettable type of love.

There’s that look of pure love and devotion stricken clear as day on his face once again as he seemingly admires you. It’s the look that you’ve been longing to see.

The look that’s stronger than love.

And then he goes and says something that knocks the air clean out of your lungs, flipping your world around completely.

“Marry me.”

taglist: @raspberrybesitos ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @clawdee

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dividers by @.saradika-graphics

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller au #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #hbo joel miller #no outbreak!joel miller #firefighter!joel miller #fic: a burning desire

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theexaltedbride · 5 days ago

Text

White Rabbit X Ex-DarkCOM Member Reader (GN).

(Got heavily inspired to write Rabbit X Reader stuff because the White Rabbit was the best thing of the DMC Netflix series. I have quite a few issues with the series from a writing perspective, but the rabbit was dynamite! So, since there was a shortage of Rabbit X Reader stuff, I decided to do it myself! I hope you all enjoy. All my Rabbit stuff will have him just be a demon rather than...if you know you know. It will all also be focused on an AU style in hopes of a happier ending, because I'm tired of dark and depressing shit. Get enough of that in the real world.)

============

~"A soldier's duty to disobey an unlawful and immoral order is greater than their duty to obey a lawful order". ~

You were told this once by a superior officer. It always stuck with you, both in your service in the military, and afterwards when you were recruited by Dark Realm Command. It has been on your mind especially when you defect away from DarkCOM, because you refused to open fire on unarmed Makaians.

Killing isn't any more honorable than blindly following orders and stomping your feet like a wind up toy soldier. Only righteous service and protecting others with this power gives honor to a soldier's actions. That was how you made it through your initial tour of duty, and how you tried to serve in DarkCOM.

How you wish the others of DarkCOM could see that as well.

You didn't know it at first, you were taken in by all of Command's song and dance about demons and 'Hell'. How they were all invaders out to turn humanity into cattle for them to feast on. The best lies were born of truth, and you responded to many calls of rampaging demons mindlessly chomping down on random passersbys, or more conniving demons who seemed to be everything Darkcom warned you they were.

But every now and again, you were ordered to take part in an operation which felt wrong.

You tried to ignore it. You tried to tell yourself it was a trick. But raiding demon hideouts sometimes felt more like breaking into the homes of cowering families, and seeing how they fled or begged, filled you with doubt. You hesitated more and more each time.

Not every demon was a killer. Many of them fled in terror or had never harmed a person in their life. They just wanted to flee a shitty world run by a different kind of monster. The knowledge of it kept you up at night, until it finally came to a head, on the same day as you encountered the White Rabbit.

He had been known by Darkcom for a while now. 'Target: 'Thumper' was his label, he was an HVI that needed to be eliminated, as Darkcom intel suspected he had some sort of method of tunneling between realms and bringing demons into our world. A trap was laid at one of the locations Rabbit liked to use to welcome Makaians to Earth.

It was a large wooded area, so that his people could breathe untainted air, and see real flora that wasn't immediately dangerous. Your superiors had guessed his arrival time, and has set up in ambush for a few days ahead of time, you had been on watch when the portal opened, and Rabbit arrived leading several Makaians behind him, elderly, children, sickly outworlders who looked like just human beings who were oddly shaped or hairier than normal.

You called it in and reported that there were noncombatants in the area.

"They are all combatants. The moment they set foot on this planet they are designated hostile."

"There are no weapons, the have kids among them." You hiss into your radio, perhaps a little too loudly.

Rabbit's ears had twitched as if he'd heard you all, his eyes were scanning the forest for the source of the noise, yet the Makaians were still walking closer into the killbox, where they would have nowhere to run and be surrounded on all sides by guns ready to fire.

You wouldn't tolerate this...so you made your choice. You sprung the trap too early. You fired at the feet of the Makaians to force them to turn around and run back towards Rabbit and his portal, as the other Darkcom operatives were forced to change position to get a better angle, while you tried to get them to stop.

"Cease fire! Cease Fire! Noncombatants! " You shouted to your comrades, hoping to get through to them, even making universal hand signs to help convey it in the low light of the forests, hoping to give them pause.

This was wrong. These people didn't deserve to be hurt, and damn the orders and officers who wanted this to happen.

"Engage and eliminate, soldier! That's an order! Wipe them out, now!" One of the officers in the field had declared, and you just couldn't take it anymore.

"I WILL NOT OBEY THAT ORDER!" Had been screamed back at those you once called friends. Your battle brothers and battle sisters.

This wasn't missed by the Rabbit. Nor did he miss how you shot at some of your own, not shooting to kill, but to force them into cover and to keep their fire from hitting the fleeing people, because that's what they were. Not monsters, but people.

The others shouted at you that you were insane, or a traitor, with each word feeling like the bite of a nail being driven through your heart. There was no going back now, you'd done something which couldn't be undone.

But it had to be done.

You forced the other operatives to stay down while the Makaians fled, and half expected Rabbit to shut the portal on his way through, but he kept it open, and whistled for you while waving an arm.

"This way! Hurry!"

You covered your escape with a smoke grenade, and fled towards the Rabbit, expecting him to backstab you the entire time, but all he did was shove you through before closing it behind you both.

The Makaians were understandably surprised, and some even looked as if they were waiting for you to fire on them. Instead, you dropped the magazines from your weapons, cleared the chambers, and placed them on the ground. Only after you raised your arms did you notice that Rabbit was right behind you, knife held to the back of your neck, ready to plunge it in if you gave him a reason.

Rabbit didn't like being left in the dark, he hated not knowing things, and he was struggling to understand how a human, let alone a member of Darkcom, could have actually saved him and his people.

You found yourself detained and interrogated by the Rabbit for weeks, as he tried to discern if you were a spy, trying to trick him and lead them all to their doom. But your answers were always the same, and at one point you were in tears as you admitted that you couldn't live with yourself if you had knowingly killed innocents, so you threw your entire life away to do the right thing. There's no going back now.

"So, either kill me or let me go. I have nothing else now." You told the Rabbit, and a day later he came back with his decision. He cut your ropes and told you that you could stay, but that he'd be keeping an eye on you.

=================

-The rabbit is initially suspicious of you when you first escape back into Makai. Its only by the insistence of the Makaians who you saved that he doesn't throw you back through the portal and let DarkCom deal with you. As time goes on, he will grow to trust you more as he sees you actively trying to help everyone else there.

-He refused to give you any of your weapons back, until the refugee camp was attacked by one of the wild beasts. It was a giant beetle like beast smashing through the tunnels where the Refugees hid and remained safe from the poison air above. Rabbit and the other guards for the camp did what they could to fight the beast up close, and you were helping the refugees flee to safety when you spotted a broken metal case with your weapons inside.

You quickly grabbed them and started peppering the beast from a distance with shots and even a grenade. Each time the Bettle was moving to attack someone you would get its attention and force it to look your way or avoid attacking someone. You even went so far as to charge at it with a flare, which forced the creature to rear back in fear of the bright flame and smoke, finally giving rabbit a perfect strike at its soft underbelly, and slicing it open.

-Rabbit never forgot what you did, and how easily you could have killed them all if you'd wanted to, or how you risked your life yet again to save his people. From then on he allowed you more freedom in the camp, and when the dead Beetle was turned into food, he let you have the best part to eat. (Food is limited on Makai, and this small gesture told everyone else he trusted you).

-Rabbit first learned of Earth thanks to finding a vendor of human artifacts which sometimes slipped through the cracks of the barrier between worlds. He learned to read thanks to an old copy of Alice in Wonderland, which prominently displayed a rabbit on it and he wondered if it was about creatures like him. He used it to help him learn how to read and used to think 'Alice' was the term used for humans until he was old enough to read more advanced books and understand the difference between humans and demons (and how similar they were on a genetic level).

Sometimes he still slips up and refers to you as Alice.

-When it comes to supply runs and setting up safehouses on Earth, Rabbit was hesitant to bring you along, but you've proven invaluable in helping them find good places to get supplies, and even raided a few Darkcom safehouses you were familiar with but which were not in use. It looks like Darkcom command assumed you were dead after all this time and had neglected to re-secure these safehouses. you handed off everything you could to Rabbit to use in keeping the Makaians safe on the other side, and promised to help teach those how were willing how to use a weapon.

Guns will do nothing to the higher-level demons, but it can at least make it easier to hunt for good and scare off weaker demons who come trying to take supplies or shake the refugees down like old school mafia thugs. You've had to help chase them off and fight more hostile demons, but Rabbit always does the heavy lifting in that regard. At least now the refugees will be safer when you two aren't around.

-You even once managed to steal an entire semi-truck worth of packaged food thanks to your knowledge of places on Earth which you could hit without harming anyone. Rabbit wouldn't admit it, but you knew that glint in his eyes. He was impressed.

-Rabbit didn't know that there were actually 4 books following the stories of Wonderland, and he thanked you for letting him know, a bright smile on his face, as if he'd learned that Santa was indeed real.

-Surviving on Makai is a lot like being in the army or Darkcom. 90% of it is looking for something to do and hoping nothing kills you, the last 10% is pure terror and fighting for your life. Though it fluctuates, it still leaves you with plenty of time to think and looking for ways to help out, especially when in one of the tunnel networks Rabbit has deemed safe enough for refugees to hide in long-term.

-You spend some of your downtime telling stories to young Makaians to distract them from the hardships of life, and have more than once reenacted scenes from famous movies using a stick instead of a sword and eventually Rabbit will join in and help tell the stories with you. ( Yes like that scene from Reign of Fire).

-Other times you spend it running impromptu classes for Makaians about Earth and clearing up any misconceptions they may have about it (Such as some thinking cars were tamed monsters with a metal carapace, or that radios and TV had tiny demons inside forced to perform for humans). You've even been looking into ways to teach them how to drive stick shift for a car.

-Recently you've been helping Makaians learn how to live on Earth and among humans without arousing suspicion. This also includes asking Rabbit to help you by playing the part of a Makaian in disguise and what would be appropriate/a faux pas when among humans. Rabbit likes to think of himself as a showman and loves to have the eyes of others on him, so why not have him help give demonstrations?

This would be what eventually led to your first kiss. You both got a little too 'in character' and kept leaning in closer while 'showing how humans expressed affection' (Some demons do it by biting others by licking so you were showing the human ways) until you gave one another a quick peck of a kiss.

You'd meant to do it on his cheek, as had Rabbit, but you leaned in too quickly, and your lips had touched for a half a second.

-Rabbit would actually come to you later to apologize for the unexpected kiss, while making an offhand comment that it wasn't an unpleasant experience.

-You suggested to Rabbit that perhaps you should continue the lesson. It would take about two weeks for him to come back to that idea, but your second kiss was much better than the first one.

-You've both taken to sometimes going out in search of little gifts to give one another when doing scouting missions on Earth, and Rabbit keeps trying to find flowers which won't die immediately while on Makai. But it was through this which Darkcom began to learn you were still alive, and began to make plans to eliminate you.

-Whenever you have an engagement with Darkcom you try to go nonlethal as much as you can, tossing flashbangs, smoke grenades, using suppressing fire and shooting to wound rather than to kill, or loading a rubber bullet into a grenade launcher and firing off the massive thing towards one of the enemy shooters to break their wrist or crack a rib. You just need to take them out of the fight until everyone can retreat. But Darkcom knows you lack the stomach to go all the way and plan to use it against you.

This would end up further cementing Rabbit's love for you when he saw you in danger and risked his own life for you.

-Rabbit nearly tore his tendons moving faster than the human eye could see, moving fast enough to save you from a Darkcom ambush, where they lobbed grenades at you, and they had landed enough of them around you that it didn't matter where you ran. You would have been blown to bits no matter what. If the detonations didn't get you, then the shrapnel would have.

But Rabbit saw the grenades coming down around you and moved at such speeds his shoes were ripped and broken, hanging off of his feet, the seams of his shirt had ripped, his veins felt like they were ready to burst, but he was able to grab you and pull you to safety before the grenades went off.

The smoke it created was enough to give you both time to escape to a portal and out of the Darkcom trap. The moment Rabbit made it to the other side, he collapsed.

The pain he'd be in for a week after was enough to require some of the harder painkillers the Makaian refugees use as well as some drugs to bring down the swelling in his body. He was breathing hard the entire time, as if constantly trying to catch his breath, and in his dazed confusion he kept asking if you were okay, even while you tended to him and tried to soothe his pain.

He's not as strong or as fast as the true demons of Makai, normally he wouldn't push himself so hard. But seeing you in genuine danger of being killed caused him to put everything he had into running fast enough to save you.

-Afterwards he'd really get on your case about being soft on Darkcom and how you needed to stop fighting with one arm behind your back, but you knew he only did it because he cared about you.

-One of the angriest you've ever seen Rabbit get angry at another Makaian was when a mimic demon was imitating you and pretending to be you. The rabbit instantly knew it wasn't the real you, and lashed out.

'They didn't sound right, didn't smell right, didn't move right...it was an insult.' He would later say about the incident, after you had pulled Rabbit off of the mimic, where he'd been punching their singular eye and screaming at them to never imitate you again.

-He had actually never heard of Bugs Bunny until you managed to show him some clips of it. To your shock it actually had him laughing and guffawing at the cartoon rabbit's antics. You've rarely ever seen his mouth open that wide, but its good to see some real joy in his life now and again.

Though don't ever ask him to say 'What's Up Doc'. It will just annoy him.

-The worst arguments you and Rabbit ever have are about how to better handle DarkCom and whether to reveal the existence of Makai to the public. You insist on going public, making videos to send to the press, getting DNA samples to share with hospitals and universities, and showing the world that Makaian's aren't monsters!

If people knew the truth, the public outcry could put Darkcom on the backfoot and give the refugees a chance to claim genuine sanctuary. Or perhaps even trying to get other members of the organization to see that they are going about this all wrong.

The first idea is scoffed at by the Rabbit, the second however always leads to arguments.

"You need to get your head out of your ass, dearest. They are jackboot thugs who will happily kill all of us without losing a second of sleep. Whatever 'good members' who might exist among them were either killed off for asking too many questions or they jumped ship like you did. What remains are wind up killers waiting for their next mission. I will hear no more of it."

On and on the arguments go, with both of you making points and refusing to budge. Rabbit makes the point of how it takes only one single Darkcom spy among them to bring all of this crashing down.

"Just one single guided missile and we're all dead." Rabbit reminds you, and its hard to deny him, yet whenever he comes up with a plan which would cause civilian casualties you are quick to shoot those down. Those tactics will only further turn people against Makaians, and make it harder for them to reveal themselves to the public.

"If we act like the monsters they say we are, it will give them justification to treat us that way." You say to Rabbit.

"Why should that matter? Humans act like monsters all the time. Ghandi Games only work with people who can feel shame." He scoffs, and gets angry when you remind him that Ghandi did succeed and is venerated for it. On and on the two of you go to the point of sleeping in different beds, only to make up as the week goes along (especially as Rabbit is usually the first one to reach out, by offering you tea he made himself).

This work is hard, and it eats at you both. Whatever moments of joy can be found between you two have to be guarded, protected, and cherished. You've become a pariah to your own people for Rabbit and the Makaians. He understands this and wishes things were different.

It becomes a moot point as going less lethal proves to be more of an impossibility as DarkCom considers you a priority target for termination. They will not take you prisoner, they will not hear you out. They want to kill you, even if they are being spoonfed lies and propaganda, they will not hesitate and will show no mercy to the Makaians under your protection.

So, you do what you must.

As you have to fight some of your own former comrades, and kill some of them, Rabbit sees how it eats at you, and will hold you and let you cry as much as you need to.

"I ran out of tears a long time ago. But I remember how much better I felt afterwards...so take as long as you need." He will tell you, holding you tight, and pushing off other business unless it's absolutely critical he be there.

Yet he's starting to come around to the idea of finding other ways of helping the Makaians. Be it by going public, or by trying to find a different world altogether to flee to.

It has to be worth it. Something good has to come out of all of this. The pain can't end with more pain. No matter how deep you both have to go down into the rabbit hole, you're going to find a way to make things right.

Both worlds are cold and dark, full of so much pain, but together the two of you are bringing some light and much needed joy where possible.

=====

Couple's playlist.

~'We're All Mad Here' By SJ Tucker.

~'Her Name Is Alice.' By Shinedown.

~'White Rabbit' By Egypt Central.

~'Looking glass' By The Birthday Massacre.

~'No More' Disturbed.

~'The Good Soldier' By Nine Inch Nails.

~"Somewhere I belong." Linkin Park.

~'Novia' by Jake Daniels.

~'One Last Night' by Vaults.

~'Its not over' by Daughtry.

~'Whoever brings the night.' By Nightwish.

====

A good part of this entire idea was sparked by the Shower Ambush from The Rock, and I had it on repeat while I was writing certain parts of this to keep my muse going.

#DMC 2025 #DMC #White Rabbit X Reader #DMC White Rabbit X Reader #reader x canon #White Rabbit is a demon here #DMC Netflix #devil may cry netflix #Devil May Cry #Devil May cry x reader

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bananayuyu · 23 days ago

Text

just friends (5) - stuck in the middle

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 14.2k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, edging, vibrator use, unprotected sex, getting into dom/sub dynamics a bit, more fighting

a/n: just wanted to let you all know that it'll be a while until the next update of this series. I am going to focus for the next while on another writing project (a book) that is really important to me. but I promise I will pick this series up later this year. I don't know when yet, but I am so obsessed with these characters that I know it won't be too long. I am determined to give them a satisfying end to their story. I hope you all enjoy this part <3

<- previous part | next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3

10 Months Ago

"Hey, what's wrong?" Tina asked as soon as you walked in, hair wet from her shower, her sweats and t-shirt hanging loose from her frame.

"I'm freaking out girl, ugh, my fucking anxiety," you groaned, running your hands over your face and hair.

"You still panicked about what San said yesterday?" she asked you, standing up to come give you a hug, pulling you onto the couch to sit with her.

"I guess, I- I don't know, something's wrong with my fucking brain," you sighed, then sneezed hard, cringing at the pain radiating through your sinuses.

"Your allergies can't be helping," she said, grabbing a tissue from the side table and handing it to you. "And we probably have a shit ton of dust in here too," she laughed.

"It's okay, they're this bad at my place too, it's just how they are right now," you replied.

"Have you made an appointment with that allergist?" she asked.

"No, I keep forgetting to call before they close. Their office closes at four, it's so early," you sighed, looking over to her. She nodded in agreement, knowing how your late schedules often made scheduling appointments hard; most of the rest of the world operated on a different timeline for you, and while generally it was a positive thing, the quietness of the late night a comfort, there were certain ways it made your life unquestionably harder.

"It's 3:30 right now, let me call," she said, pulling up her phone and searching for the name Maya's coworker had given her two days before.

"Titi you don't have to," you sighed, looking at her with upturned eyebrows.

"Just let me, it'll be easy. That way we don't forget," she said with finality, making the call.

You sat still as she rattled off every bit of information about you from memory; your birthday, the complicated spelling of your last name, even your insurance ID. Four years of knowing her and she'd learned everything there was to know about you; when you'd first met, people always suspected that you liked each other, but it had never been like that, no matter how much it could have been. Your relationship with her was better than any romance; no drama, no questioning, no confusion. Somehow everything was always smooth sailing, somehow your disagreements or miscommunications never turned into a fight; it baffled you still that you'd managed to create this friendship with her, when almost all the other relationships in your life felt on the constant brink of cracking.

At least you could be a good friend to someone. Someone who was good and kind in all the ways that mattered, someone who cared for you back and helped you when you needed it. As you stared at her face from the side you played over the conversation you two had the day before. You'd made almost no sense, you were sure, yet she picked through all your rambling and found the truth; you didn't want San's romantic affection, didn't want your thing with him to be anything but physical. It was pure and simple, that was all there was to it. And maybe just maybe, such an intimate night with him had crossed over your line.

"Are you sure I'm not an asshole for not dating him officially?" you asked her again some minutes later.

"Dude, seriously, you're not. You told me you guys have talked about it, not just once but multiple times, and he's agreed that this is the arrangement he wants. If he doesn't want it he has to say something. And I think he would say something, you know? He doesn't strike me as the type to be so insecure that he wouldn't," she replied.

"I know, I just-" you sighed, shaking your head. "Friends with benefits situations are never really healthy though, are they? I mean like very, very rarely do they actually work. They're always toxic."

"Just cause most people don't communicate their feelings affectively doesn't mean that all casual relationships are unhealthy. If both people involved are happy with it, then that's all that matters. That's all that matters for any relationship really," she answered you.

"That's true," you said, turning back to her.

"You've stayed over once in the two months you've been seeing him. It's nothing to panic about," she reassured you, a hand on your knee.

"What if he's secretly hating this whole thing between us?" you asked, your eyes on hers.

"Then he'd be stupid, cause even getting an ounce of your attention should make anyone's life," she responded, smiling.

"Shut up, oh my god," you rolled your eyes, but a smile crept onto your face as you chuckled.

"Listen, I'm not in your relationship, maybe it isn't the healthiest, maybe he's hating it, who knows? I'm always gonna be on your side though, even if you're not making the best choices. Like- I just can't not be, you know?"

"Yeah, that's how I feel about you too," you said, smiling.

"You were the only one that was excited about me moving in with Maya," she laughed, and you laughed too, grabbing onto her hand.

"You just knew it would work, you just had a feeling. I trusted that," you said, looking at her fondly.

"And I trust you with this thing, no matter what anybody else would say, cause I know you always figure it out in the end. Even if there's some confusion along the way. You always find what's right, always. I know you'll do what's right with San, too," she said, her eyes soft, reflecting back the hope and worry in your own.

You certainly longed for her words to be true; unending support and faith, it was what you wished anyone else in your life had for you the way she did, especially your family. But with San, was she really right? Her confidence felt too good to question, so you pushed your worried thoughts aside as best as you could.

"Any word on the manuscript yet?" she asked.

You shook your head, sighing as you chuckled in frustration, the day floating away as every feeling swirled within you, a cocktail too complicated for you to understand.

6 Months Ago

"Wait, isn't that the super fancy fondue place in Uptown?" Tina asked from beside you, a lash in hand as she gently applied glue to it. The room was bustling with activity, as several wide-eyed newbies dressed and painted their faces in panic, clearly not yet used to the pace of night life work. The three of them looked eighteen at most, but you couldn't be sure; thankfully Sasha and Bibi had taken them under their wings, as the three were drag performers too. It seemed your boss was trying to corner a new market, and you weren't at all mad; it was as interesting to you to see the new performances as it was to the customers, and you couldn't wait to sneak out later and catch a glimpse of the new numbers on the night's schedule.

"Yeah I think so, I've heard it's expensive as hell," you laughed, desperately trying to pin a curl in place.

"Yeah like more than a hundred dollars a person, right?" Tina asked.

"Wait really?"

"Yeah girl, it's like a hundred and fifty a person I'm pretty sure, and who knows if you buy wine or anything else how expensive that gets," she replied, leaning forward and squinting her eye in preparation for placing the lash.

"Titi, geez," you gaped at her, giving up on the curl momentarily.

"Good for you, sounds like you got yourself a sugar daddy, basically," she laughed, pulling back from the mirror to asses the placement of the lash.

"Ugh no, don't say that," you cringed, looking back to the mirror and taking yourself in, the version of you with a full face of makeup and an absurd outfit, the girl who looked absolutely nothing like you.

"Why not, it's like the dream, right?" she joked.

"I- I guess so, I just-" Staring at yourself in the mirror, you sighed deeply. "I don't know why it's making me freak the fuck out, I was feeling better the last few weeks, fuck I'm so annoyed," you sighed, wanting desperately to put your head in your hands but knowing you'd fuck up the heavy face of makeup you'd just spent nearly an hour applying.

"It feels too relationship-y, doesn't it?" she asked, turning to face you.

"Everyone else there is gonna be on dates, no doubt," you sighed, hands behind your head.

"Girl, fuck 'em. Like seriously, what does it matter what other people might think? Y'all have figured it out, you have this dynamic that works for you. He's offering to pay for a one hundred and fifty dollar meal. Don't turn that down," she said.

"I wish I could take you with me," you laughed, sighing. "Also it's not his money, the meal is gonna be comped cause his boss knows the guy who owns the place."

"Fucking finance bros," Tina laughed.

"Tech, Ti, he's in tech," you chuckled.

"Same difference, anyway, whatever the method of payment is, don't you dare give up the chance to go eat there. Relish it, go fucking crazy, get the best bottle of wine that they have! We will spend the whole day doing your hair and makeup and buy you a perfect dress and oh god! You're gonna look so fucking good-"

"Titi calm down, please," you joked, cutting her off and holding your hands over her mouth playfully. Her antics were catching the attention of the rest of the room, and you felt a twinge of embarrassment hit you as the three new hires looked directly your way; thankfully it was only Sasha that flounced over to you, with a playful smile on her face.

"What are you two so excited about?" she joked, you both shaking your heads and apologizing for the commotion. "Well I'm happy to see it, I haven't seen you two like this in months," she said, finally sitting herself down at her station beside you.

"We finally got over our spring depressions," you chuckled, once again grabbing the pesky piece of hair giving you trouble and rolling it into the perfect circle to place at your temple.

"Spring depressions? What was so bad about this spring?" she asked, pulling out her giant makeup bag, cracking it open with a satisfying click.

"Oh you know, my play got literally zero traction, not a single fucking person was interested in putting in on," you sighed, finally pinning the hair in place with a satisfied grunt.

"Hey that play was amazing, no matter the amount of commercial interest it got," Tina responded, working on her second lash.

"I know but, I want to be successful, I wrote it the way I thought people would- fuck, I'm so over talking and thinking about it, it is what it is, but it- it was so discouraging, it did worse than my last play, and that one I put barely any effort into," you sighed.

"Miss thing, you can't let the success or failures of your writing dictate how you feel about life. You know how this industry is, it doesn't matter how talented you are, sometimes the money or interest just doesn't materialize. Don't let it get you so down. We all know you're a brilliant writer," Sasha said, rifling through her massive pile of lipsticks, the sounds of last minute costume changes and choreography checks filling the air. All he sounds around you reminded you of your first day here, the chaos you were in; a sudden wave of emotion hit you, nostalgia and longing and regret all swirling together, and you tried to swallow it all down.

"Sash that's very sweet, but what if I told you I've become a sex addict to cope?" you deadpanned, looking at her with pouted lips.

"Oh darling, we've all been there," she sighed, and the three of you burst into giggles, the conversation veering off in another direction, your sudden ridiculous comment making everyone forget the serious conversation from moments ago.

It had been demoralizing, the weeks passing by with no good news from your agent. She'd tried all she could, she promised you; you knew she was telling the truth, knew she was on your side and fighting the good fight. But you couldn't help feeling completely demotivated; not a single complete paragraph had fallen from your fingers in the three months since you'd finished it, and only now, the last week or so, had you started to write again. Thanks to Tina and her brilliant and adorable idea for a musical, your creative gears were spinning in just the way you needed. But those terribly halting months had been more crushing than you'd expected, more severe than you'd be willing to admit to anyone; you'd used your nights with San and nights with your vibrator to get through. And it all had started to feel a bit absurd; you weren't sure what the hell you were doing, and weren't sure what the fuck you could do to stop yourself.

The winter was always hard for Tina, with her depressions, but this spring because of your state, her winter blues had extended longer than they usually did. There'd been one almost fight, one tough conversation; she realized what was happening, understood herself well enough to know that being around your ever sadder disposition was making her feel worse and worse, too. She'd put her foot down; there was a week spent apart, and a request that you didn't continue to complain for the thousandth time to her about how much you hated the world for not understanding your art, and not wanting it.

You were starting to sound a bit full of yourself, and she called you on it; much needed, for sure, but it stung in a way that only those words coming from her mouth would sting, embarrassment coating your hurt. It made you snap out of it, almost immediately; the next day you already felt different, already knew that this was just the way of the world, the way of the life you chose. You'd have to get used to this kind of rejection if you were going to make it in a creative life; art was subjective, there was never going to be a sure fire way to make something that everyone loved. You were only twenty-two, had plenty of time to get your writing career off the ground; and only a few weeks later, as if the universe knew you needed a little pick-me-up, Tina jokingly rattled off a fantastic idea for a musical that you wished beyond words you'd come up with yourself.

Life started to feel stable again; even with San things felt stable, and though you now spent nights over several times a month, you'd still managed to hold the line mostly, no feelings getting involved. You enjoyed his presence in the way you did a good friend; you appreciated his shared interest in musicals, which now that you were writing one, felt especially fun. He loved the idea as much as you did, and encouraged you time and time again when you spewed on about it; it was he who helped you pare down the number of songs you wanted, getting to the crux of the scenes in need of that particular type of development, and you couldn't have been more thankful that day for his help.

Not that you said that to him. In no way did him knowing how much he helped you out of a creative rough spot seem like a good idea.

The stability had lulled you into a sense that things would never change with him; you'd found a perfect balance it seemed, and having him there to help you cope with a frustrating few months had made the whole arrangement seem even more perfect. You had helped him too, you learned; it wasn't until he transferred to his new company that he told you, but you noticed the change in him immediately. His shoulders were less tense, he was more open with his words; he finally escaped that old company and he'd thanked you in the dead of night for being there during that time, keeping him from going completely insane.

When he asked you to accompany him to the Melting Pot, you were sure he was joking. Only once had you heard someone mention the restaurant; it was a girl you and Tina peripherally knew in college, one who came from boarding school and Hamptons vacations and perfect designer bags. It was the kind of place that you knew probably sucked; no way could food be that good, worth that much money. But the girl had described it with such reverence, so enthralled; it sounded like the experience of it was almost like a wondrous show, and in that way it sounded like the perfect escape for rich people in need of more and more excitement, a simple meal not even enough for them to enjoy anymore.

You'd rolled your eyes at him, and he accepted your perspective; eventually, though, he persuaded you, insisting that there was no one else he'd rather take, no one else he'd rather experience the strange place with.

It shouldn't have made your heart flutter so much to hear him say such things.

You'd gone, of course you had, even though you'd had to take a day off work on a Saturday. Everyone, even your boss, had agreed that you'd needed to take some time away; you hadn't called out for nearly three months straight, even though you'd been nursing a depression that should have stolen your attention more. Work was the best distraction, something you always used as medicine when you needed to, but even you could see that maybe a day off wouldn't be so bad, especially now that you were feeling better.

It meant that Tina couldn't help you dress or get ready after all, but that was no worry to you; you had your own fun getting ready at home, pulling out the only dress you owned that would both feel comfortable in the crushing heat and look fancy enough for the ridiculous establishment you were about to enter. San had insisted on coming to pick you up and meet you at your door; a one time thing, he promised it would be, as he knew just how much you seemed to never want his escort. You'd both be headed some twenty minutes away, in a beautiful black car that you didn't know the name of, and it made no sense for you to walk to his place, he'd said. It'd made too much sense to argue with, so you'd let him. Opening the door to his beautiful face was a shock to your system; the cream, dingy walls of your apartment complex were no match for his sharp all-black suit, the muscles of his chest on full display underneath his tight button-up, making you swallow hard. And his eyes snaking up and down your form had you frozen a bit, your tiniest black purse slung over your left elbow.

"This good enough?" you laughed, but it was hollow and sharp, your nerves getting the better of you.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice low and sultry as he stared deeply into your eyes. Your cheeks heated immediately, your whole body reacting; you couldn't afford the reaction though, not when you wore no bra and your hard nipples would be obvious, and not when you wore no panties and your arousal could so easily slip down your leg.

You were quiet in the back of the car, San's hand on your thigh, your eyes glued to the road outside. You were rarely ever in this part of town, hadn't been in over a year; you forgot just how many shops there were, how wide the boulevards stretched, how tall and bright the Target sign was, it's red light painting the entire sidewalk below. Living downtown you were used to tall buildings, but it was the brightness and perfection of Uptown that always shocked you. How did they keep the streets up here so damn clean?

The hot evening air greeted you as you stepped out, San's hand guiding you from the car and making sure you tugged down the bit of your dress that had ridden up your thigh during the drive. He waved off the driver with a kind smile; you saw him tip the man generously on his phone, before locking it and shoving it in his pocket, holding out his left arm for you to take.

The front of the restaurant was unassuming, an uneven brick wall with simple black doors, an almost gaudy looking witch's pot adorning the awning above. But as soon as he'd opened the door, you were met with wonder; it was dark inside, every surface smooth and shiny, the dark wood of the front desk lacquered and sloped, not a sharp surface in sight. The floor was black with what looked like tiny specks of silver or clear stone, and the walls were all black too, the staff dressed in perfectly pressed outfits, all wearing suits, even the women.

The cool air hit you as soon as you entered; you gripped onto San, a shiver running through you, as you blinked and took in the room around you, the lighting so low it was unclear where the actual seated areas were.

"Choi, reservation for two," San said to the host, the man giving him a quick nod and typing something into the computer in front of him. You'd never heard his last name before, and didn't register it as such; you thought it must be the name of his boss, or his company, or whoever had made this arrangement for him.

"Right this way," the host said, walking around the desk and beckoning you towards him, the vague shape of a hallway materializing as you stepped forward. You shivered harder as you walked, a blast of cool air coming from somewhere in the ceiling.

"You okay?" San whispered down to you, not turning his head.

"I'm freezing," you whispered back, and then his eyes looked down to your bare legs, and he laughed.

"Why'd you wear something that- uh-" he chuckled as he kept his voice down, not wanting anyone to overhear. You were still walking down the hallway, still unable to see where you were headed.

"It's hot as fuck outside!" you whispered yelled, and he turned to you with his mouth agape, holding a hand up to your mouth.

"Don't use that word in here!" he huffed back, but his face was breaking into a smile, finding it all hilarious. "Here, take this," he said, breaking away from you for a second to take off his suit jacket before placing it over your shoulders.

"San, I-"

But as overcome as you were with the moment, suddenly your attention was elsewhere, for you'd entered an area that finally was lit a little more, and the tables and booths around you were nothing but breathtaking. There were few tables set through the huge room, the best seating clearly the tall booths along the back wall that sat up a few feet and offered a sense of privacy. From your angle you could spot a chocolate fondue tower on the right most table; a beautiful set of girls sat gushing over it, strawberries and papaya in hand, the fruit sparkling under the shimmery gold chandeliers that graced the ceiling above every table.

It was the left most booth you were walking towards; as you passed one of the tables, the older woman sitting gave you a not-so-subtle once over, and immediately you swallowed and tore your eyes away, not sure what it was about you that so displeased her. You were walking ahead of San, following the host at a distance you felt was appropriate, and as he made for the very left back corner of the room you were overcome with a feeling of not belonging, the room littered with the kind of people you'd hardly ever been around in your life.

"Steve brought this down himself for you two, it's a Yamazaki Single Malt whiskey from his collection," the host started as you both slid into the cozy booth, presenting a bottle of dark amber liquor, setting it down on the beautiful mahogany table. "He sends his regards, said you two are our guests for the night. So anything you need, you just let me know," he finished, a pleasant smile slapped permanently on his face.

"Thank you so much, I'll have to thank him myself for this," San replied, grabbing the bottle in his hand and inspecting it, rolling it slightly side to side.

"Would you like a glass of that tonight? Or something else to drink?" the host asked.

"I'd love to have some of this, thank you," San nodded at him, then looked over to you, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, uh, I'll try some," you said, suddenly feeling like you couldn't say no, no matter how much you hated whiskey. "Could I have a glass of water, too?"

"Of course, will that be all for drinks?" he asked, that same serene smile still gracing his round face. You both nodded in unison, and in a moment the man was out of sight, lost to the dark hallway from which you'd emerged minutes ago, making not a sound as he walked.

"Guess how much that whiskey costs," San said as he turned to you, scooting closer and throwing an arm around your shoulder, the grin on his face almost cocky. The booth was a small half circle that encased the round table, allowing for as much closeness or distance as two people could want at a meal.

"San, do I look weird in your suit jacket?" you asked though, ignoring his inquiry, still playing over and over the look that woman had given you. He turned his face towards you, already looking confused. "I stuck my arms through like this cause it's more comfortable, but do I look insane?"

"You look beautiful," he said again, placing a soft kiss on your temple, and though it should have completely reassured you, made you calmer, it made you feel almost worse. You pushed him away subtly, looking at him with pathetic eyes.

"Seriously, no other girl in here has a jacket over her dress, they all think I'm being weird, don't they?" you asked.

"Baby no one's looking at you, no one cares, plus you look adorable in my jacket," he said, looking you over.

"It swallows me whole," you pouted.

"Yeah, it's adorable," he repeated, looking at you almost sternly. "Why are you worried about it?"

"I don't belong in here, I feel weird-"

"Of course you belong in here, what do you mean?" he cut you off, seeing your gears turning towards upset, needing to put a stop to it as quickly as he could.

"This place is for rich people, not people like me!" you cried under your breath, looking around at the manners and posture of every other couple, those habits that only upper class breeding could teach a person.

"It's not for rich people, it's not that expensive, not like some exclusive place you need an invite to or anything like that," he responded, eyeing you. "Are you seriously not having a good time?"

"How expensive is that whiskey?" you shot back, and he sighed in a momentary defeat, but didn't move from his position mere inches away. "What, is it like $500?" you continued. San looked away for a moment, eyes scanning the empty table as if it were the most interesting thing in the room. "Shit, $1000?" A deep sigh fell through his lungs, and he looked back to you, subtly shaking his head. "It's more than a $1000?" you eyed him, eyebrows high with shock. "Don't tell me it's like $10,000 or something," you laughed, shaking your head.

"I think it might be close," he said, but his voice was tight; no longer was he sure if he could joke about these expensive things with you, with just how uncomfortable you seemed to be.

"That's rich people shit, like rich rich people shit," you sighed, your tongue on the roof of your mouth.

"Yeah, is that a problem?" he nearly snapped.

"It's not me," you said, your upper body subtly leaning away from his piercing eyes.

And just as he was about to speak, the host came back, two empty tumblers and a glass of water on a small platter. He set it all down, passing the water to you; he poured the two glasses of whiskey with ease, leaving the bottle open on the table next to San, an obvious invitation for him to drink more through the night if he wanted to. He waited for San to take a sip, humming as the warmth spread down through his chest, the taste smooth and dark and spicy, absolutely, breathtakingly delicious.

"It's amazing, thank you," San said to the man, who nodded with a small bow, then grabbed his platter and placed it underneath his arm.

"Are you ready for your first course, or would you like some more time to enjoy your drinks?" he asked.

"We're ready, thank you," San nodded at him, before the man turned and disappeared, just as fast as the first time.

"Give it a sip," San nodded towards you, his eyes falling to the tumbler of whiskey in front of you. You tentatively reached towards it, wrapping your hand around the thick glass; it was heavy and hard to lift, the weight of it surprising you, and as you brought the whiskey towards your face you stopped under your nose, taking in a whiff. The strong, spicy aroma hit your sinuses immediately and made you slightly recoil; when you looked over to San he was watching you intently, clearly waiting for you to do as he'd said. Carefully you tipped the glass towards your lips, taking in the smallest of sips. You swallowed quickly, trying not to grimace too obnoxiously, the sharp flavor almost making you want to gag.

"How is it?" he asked.

"I hate it," you said, the aftertaste now hitting you, another turn of your head and grimace following.

"I know," he said, sighing and looking around, taking the glass into his right hand and pulling it away from you. "I know this isn't you, I'm not asking you to love it," he said slowly. "I'm just asking you to try."

"Try what?" you asked, eyeing your glass that now sat right next to his.

"Try to actually have a good time with me when I'm taking you out," he said.

"I'm having a good time," you mumbled, your eyes hitting the table.

"Baby, you look miserable," he huffed, looking you over again.

"I'm just cold," you sighed, your legs shivering beneath the table, San's jacket helping but not completely making up for the bareness of the rest of your body.

"I could ask them to turn down the AC," he said.

"Oh god, don't do that, I don't want to seem even more insane," you replied.

"Baby," San groaned, tipping his head back with a groan.

"I know, sorry, I'll stop complaining," you sighed, wrapping your hands around one of his and scooting into his side. "Thank you for taking me here tonight, I'm sorry I'm being a bitch," you whispered, eyes fluttering up to meet his, a look full of apologies gracing your face.

It shouldn't have been that easy to win him over, but it always was; the big eyes of the girl he loved looking up at him would always make him fold. He knew, by then, how he felt about you, and he was pretty sure that with time you'd feel the same. This night was a bit of a test, if he was honest; an opportunity to see how you were on an actual date, if you could relish spending the night with him in this way, not in the way you two usually did. He needed to see it before he popped a bigger question to you, one he sincerely hoped you'd say yes to, one that would tell him so much more than this evening could.

Moments later the first course, cheese fondue, hit the table. A pack of four servers arrived, one with the boiling pot itself, placing it carefully a the center of the table and warning you of the heat, the others all carrying dippers and side dishes, the options endless. There was a plate with three different types of interesting looking bread; countless others were filled with what looked like sliced apples and pears, roasted Brussel sprouts and cauliflower, other vegetables and fruits you couldn't be sure of, and an assortment of beautifully plated salamis.

I guess I was wrong, you thought as you dug in, mouth salivating from the moment the pot of cheese had hit the table. Enjoy the evening, that was what everyone told you to do, what San was practically begging you to do, so you did. It was easy when everything tasted so good and you barely had to talk; it occurred to you how strange it was that dinners were common first date activities, when so much of the time was taken up with food in your mouth and no chance to get to know the other person.

The second course was the meat course; a large red pot full of boiling oil was placed where the cheese had been, a live flame underneath it that could be adjusted with a small lever, San immediately reaching forward to see how it worked. On the table sat a beautiful piece of meat; 'filet mignon' one of the servers had said, making your eyes go a bit wide. San showed you how to cut it into the perfect sized pieces, skewer it, then place it in the oil and wait patiently as it cooked to perfection. The assortment of sauces was monumental, ranging from curries to peanut-based concoctions to sweet chutneys. There was no ketchup or barbecue sauce here; each one was more delicious than the next, surely full of ingredients that you wouldn't recognize by name.

"You having fun?" San asked as you chewed your final piece of steak, covered in your favorite of the sauces, the yellow curry.

"Mmhm," you responded while chewing, smiling up in his direction with your closed lips.

"Good, cause I have something to tell you," he said, taking back another short swig of his whiskey, still nursing the first glass that had been poured for him nearly an hour ago. His cheeks were already getting a bit pink; the alcohol was lubricating his thoughts, and though you'd known him for almost half a year by that point, it was the first time you'd seen him drunk since that first night you'd met, all those months ago.

"Hmm?" you responded, finally swallowing your bite and taking a sip of your water.

"Quiero escapar contigo," he said, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

"Quiero, you want, you want to escape...?" you wracked your brain, trying desperately to remember the little Spanish you knew. "You want to escape with me?"

"Si, podemos escapar, solo los dos," he pointed between the two of you, his eyes suddenly looking a little more obviously drunk.

"Podemos?" you asked, not recognizing the verb.

"We can," he answered you.

"You want to escape with me, we can escape, uh, just us two?" you asked, laughing at how hard you were having to work at it. "How the fuck do you already know more Spanish than me, this isn't fair," you pouted, making him laugh.

"Diego has been teaching me some stuff," he said, smiling. "Diego's the guy who works at the front desk in my building, he usually works the evening shift," he said, answering your look of confusion. "I've been teaching him bits of Korean too."

"Oh yeah, sorry," you replied, knowing he'd told you that before. "Didn't you say he already speaks like four languages?"

"I think so," he replied.

"Y'all are too much," you laughed, shaking your head.

"So, do you want to escape with me?" he said again, eyeing you seriously.

"What are you saying?" you laughed.

"Want to escape the heat with me?"

"I'm definitely tired of it," you nodded, the hottest month of summer still not quite upon you, every soul in the city dreading the coming 100 degree days.

"My office is going on a trip to Red Tree Valley, and we're each allowed to bring one plus one," he said.

"Read Tree Valley?" you asked.

"It's up north. Wine country, vineyards. It's beautiful."

"You're gonna be drunk as hell in wine country," you laughed.

"I'm drunk as hell right now," he chuckled, his hot breath smelling of nothing but the sharp whiskey he'd just finished, the single glass making his face and neck now flush a soft crimson.

"Do you wanna take me to wine country so you can drunkenly ask me to be your girlfriend?" you laughed, feeling like maybe that one sip of whiskey earlier had started to affect you too, even though there was no way so little alcohol could have any real affect. "So I'll drunkenly say yes?" you laughed again, head tipping back as you enjoyed your own joke a little too much.

San's face was frozen and his eyes staring off when you looked back at him again, the last thing you expected. "What?" you asked, still chuckling but trying to keep it at bay, worried that your noise level was the reason he was looking so uncomfortable.

It was really because you'd just read his mind, but there was no way he'd be telling you that now, not with the way you'd so obnoxiously just laughed at the idea of him asking that question.

"You know I can't really drink though, like I wouldn't be able to go to a bunch of wine tastings or anything like that, I'd get so sick," you continued. "I wouldn't be expected to like accompany you to every thing you were going to right? I'm assuming there's like a whole itinerary for the trip, but-"

"There's no itinerary," San cut you off with a sigh, turning his serious face back towards you. "We'd have complete freedom of what we did those days, we'd be staying in a little cottage all to ourselves."

"Wow," you responded, letting it all sink in a bit. "When is this? And how long is the trip?"

"It's in three weeks," he started, making your eyes go wide. "And it's a four day weekend trip, a Thursday through Sunday."

"I'd have to take the week off work," you said, looking at him deeply, easily finding every reason why you should say no.

"When's the last time you did that?" he asked as your final course arrived, your own decadent chocolate fondue tower placed in the middle of your table, fruits and pastries filling the rest of the space.

After swallowing a bite of a strawberry you turned to him. "If I say no, who will you take?" you asked, licking a bit of chocolate from the corner of your lips, San's gaze locked on the movement.

"No one," he said, making your heart fill with the warmth you wanted, letting go a sigh of relief. A beat passed as you both locked eyes, your chocolate stained tongue visible to him as your mouth hung open in satisfaction. It was moments like these that made him sure you were on the road to loving him too; you liked when he told you romantic things, and you liked that things with him were exclusive, even if you weren't officially together. He could tell you were about to crack, to give in to his desire, and his breathing turned deep as he kept staring at your mouth, his gaze making something within you shudder.

"I'll go with you," you smiled, body giddy, your legs subconsciously squeezing together under the table.

"Yeah?" he asked, a hand coming to your thigh and squeezing it, his body leaning in.

"Quiero escapar contigo, también," you whispered, his lips brushing yours for a soft moment. The kiss was brief, the only sort of kiss appropriate for public; later that night he'd given you a piece of his mind, whispering all number of Spanish phrases in your ear as he leaned over your back, your body slack against his bed as he drilled into you.

With frenzied work on the play, and the chaos that work could be in late summer, the weeks flew by, your mind not registering just how fast until you were one day from your trip and hadn't packed a thing.

The late summer, just like the winter, would draw people indoors who were trying to escape the weather; often a loitering group could be spotted inside the front doors, their eyes wandering and brows sweaty, clearly not having planned on coming in. It always created a sense of urgency, of disorder; the summer heat always did, and with three new hires and a totally new roster of performances on the schedule, you left work most days completely drained and zoned out.

It was the first Wednesday you hadn't worked in a long time, that was why you suddenly remembered; you'd woken to a text from Tina wishing you good luck with packing, suddenly remembering that tomorrow you'd be leaving with San, needing to have enough clothing with you to actually make it through four days. You were pretty sure there were no stores nearby, no where to grab pads or toothpaste if you suddenly realized you hadn't packed them.

1:07pm: What time do I need to be ready tomorrow?

You sent off the text with haste, scrambling to comb through your closet and find your large duffel bag. There was no time to waste, not when you were sure it was less than twenty-four hours until you'd be leaving, and you hadn't packed even a bit.

1:09pm: The car will stop at my place at 7:45, should be to yours no later than 8

You gaped at his response, suddenly realizing you never asked this before. His next text came through a minute later.

1:10pm: I know it's early for you, you can sleep on the drive. It's about three hours away

Three hours, you really were going far. The highway that snaked north of your city was one you'd never really taken, as out past the hot springs there was nothing for miles, just the harsh open desert and occasional dirt road turn offs. You'd never heard of this place San was taking you, and were sure it must be small and privately owned; you would definitely be feeling uncomfortable again, but you couldn't deny that the night at the Melting Pot had been fun, the experience memorable, your urge to gush about it to Tina overwhelming.

You'd stopped yourself, to save her the irritation, and so she wouldn't possibly ask you questions you weren't ready to answer. You mentioned the trip off-hand and she'd been less shocked than you'd expected; maybe she was more used to this than you already, somehow. She kept repeating, what a perfect arrangement you two have. But you had strong suspicions that San was tired of not being official, and that this trip was his chance to try to change that. Your joke at dinner had been a joke, but also a test; frankly the whole trip was a test, and not just for you, for San too. You were ready to see if your casual thing could extend this far, into trips taken together, dates, nights spent in the same bed. And he was ready to know if finally you were seeing the light, finally seeing what was staring you in the face for six whole months.

As predicted, you couldn't keep yourself awake during the drive, no matter how hard you tried. The desert highway was so flat and quiet that it lulled you away; you were woken once you'd arrived, a bit of drool from you mouth staining the shoulder of San's white t-shirt, his outfit casual but still extremely clean cut. You were dropped in front of your cottage; a one story adobe house with a flat roof, wood decorating every corner, the front door carved in the shape of a giant feather. Inside the air was cool, though no sound indicated an AC unit; there was a tiny front closet, two robes and two sets of slippers inside, a large bed perched in the corner, many colorful rugs adorning the hard wood floor, and a small kitchenette to your right. Down a small hallway was the bathroom; a stone tub sat in the corner, several spigots placed along the wall.

"This is connected to the hot spring, so we can fill the tub with hot water whenever we want," San said, seeing your eyes curiously moving over everything, your mind still a bit fuzzy with sleep.

"That's really nice, wow," you yawned, reaching over to hug him and shove your face in his chest. You wanted to sleep more, and thankfully he allowed it; a short nap was taken by the two of you, cuddled up on the small but luscious bed, San's warm body and even breaths making all sense of time leave you as you drifted off again.

The whole trip, time flied; with him it had always been that way, any moment together feeling like it both extended beyond words and was too short for your liking. But you'd never spent multiple days in a row with him like this, and out in the valley, hikes and meals and evening soaks in the stone tub, life felt completely unreal. It was as if you'd stepped out of your reality into another one, as if you left your real self on pause as you snuck away to indulge. You slept better than you ever had, nearly on San's schedule; you felt light and airy and full of energy on your long walks, felt no sense of anxiety or worry, none of the slight darkness that always followed you.

You'd always thought of it as the way an artist's brain works; mulling things over, obsessing, worrying, analyzing constantly, every aspect of your life and other's dissected to shreds. But suddenly you felt like you were really living, being present, being in the moment, able to take a deep breath and feel it fully exit your lungs before your brain jumped to the next thing.

It was Sunday morning, before you realized; you woke early with San as you had been, walking to the one restaurant on site to have your breakfast. You sat at the table you had been the whole trip, by a window that faced the lush side of the valley; you stared out and watched the long grass blowing in the breeze, mesmerized by how vibrant it was. You'd never seen vegetation like this in your life, and it was hard to take your eyes away.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," San said once you ordered, and you nodded in response, barely tearing your eyes away from the window. About another minute passed before the voice spoke.

"Hi, sorry to bother," a soft woman's voice said behind you, and you whipped your head around, met with the small round face of a short Korean woman.

"Oh, hi," you said, smiling awkwardly. No one had approached you two all trip; in fact you couldn't be sure who here was a part of San's company, and who happened to be random couples visiting at the same time. There were cottages littered throughout the property, you couldn't be sure how many; also, it seemed some people came to visit for just the day.

"I'm San's boss's wife, Eunchae," she said.

"Oh, hi, I'm y/n," you responded, reaching out a hand to shake hers. Then you suddenly felt awkward, wondering if your greeting was correct.

"Again, I hope I'm not bothering, me and my husband just couldn't help noticing how sweet you two are together, are you San's girlfriend?" she asked.

"Oh, that's really sweet, but no, we're just friends," you smiled back, your throat feeling like it was closing a bit on you.

"Oh I see, well-" She was cut off by San's return, him pulling out his chair, the wooden legs scraping against the floor.

"Oh- anyeonghaseo," she said, bowing slightly to him.

"Anyeonghaseo," he said back, bowing too, before the two launched into a brief conversation in Korean that you caught none of.

"Telling everyone our business, are you?" he laughed once she'd left, your food arriving a moment later.

"She literally came over and asked if I was your girlfriend," you responded through a full mouth, your hand covering it.

"Boss keeps asking me when I'm getting married," he laughed, shaking his head.

"Married?" you replied, shocked.

"You know how adults are," he sighed.

"My boss has never asked me that," you chuckled.

"Your boss doesn't know your parents, does she?" he asked, finally digging in himself.

"Before we pack, I have a present for you," San said as the two of you walked back through the door to your cottage.

"You waited all trip to give it to me?" you asked, your eyebrows high with excitement, sitting yourself in front of him on the bed.

"Yes, it's very special," he said, eyeing you with mock seriousness, making you giggle. He squatted down to his suitcase and zipped it open, reaching under a pile of shirts to find the box. "I know you said yours died a couple weeks ago so I wanted to get you a nice new one," he said, rising.

"Okay?" you responded, head tilting to the side in confusion. It took you as long to put two and two together as it did for him to reveal the box to you; a stunning and sleek black wand, to replace your trusty vibrator that had just died on you after years of use.

"Oh my god, San," you gasped, reached forward to grab it from him, your body immediately feeling tingly and hot. "This must have been..." you trialed off before you could finish your sentence, knowing he wouldn't want you to complain about the price. It was at once a thoughtful and utterly sexy gift, and you just kept staring up at him with your mouth agape and eyes wide, making him chuckle.

"Do you like it?' he asked, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at you.

"Of course," you sighed, finally reaching to pull it fully out of the box, to feel the silicon head and sleek metal body in your hands.

"It looked nice, I hope it's as good as your last one," he said, smirking.

"Of course it is San, I know you know that, stop playing," you laughed, reaching out to playfully smack at his side.

In an instant his lips were on yours, his hands caging in your face, pulling you close. The whole weekend had been like this; any moment you two were alone in the privacy of your cottage his hands were on you, stolen kisses and heavy breaths filling the air, even as you got ready for your next activity. There was such electricity between you that by the time night fell, your bodies slack from your hot soak, you were animals, ravishing each other until your muscles could take no more. It felt good, felt the way you'd always hoped you could feel with someone; to have it with him, without all the extra baggage of a real relationship, felt too good to be true.

Your hands still gripped your new toy as San opened his mouth to deepen your kiss, pulling a moan from the depths of your throat as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. Your mouth opened even further, and he crashed his lips on yours, nearly knocking you onto your back as he loomed over you ever closer. You moved to reach up to him, moved to pull on his broad shoulders and feel his muscles clenching under-

His phone on the wooden side table started buzzing, making you both jump.

"Fuck, it's my mom," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. His breaths were still heavy, his face a bit flush and lips slightly swollen. "I should answer it," he said, grimacing.

After steadying his breath he clicked answer, and immediately her voice came soaring through the phone, faster than he could put it to his ear.

"Sannie!" you heard her cry, and immediately your mouth fell open, your heart melting at the nickname.

His muscled arms and furrowed brow stared down at you as you mouthed, 'Sannie?' He just rolled his eyes and shook his head, holding a finger over his lips to shush you. It was hard staying silent as you took in the cute nickname, so juxtaposed with his looks, so unexpected. But the more you said it in your head, the more you mouthed the words, the more perfect it seemed for him.

You'd expected a short conversation, and so had San, but pretty quickly you realized she must be sharing some shocking or exciting news, as his tone of voice and mannerisms were not calm in the slightest. You sat inspecting your toy more, running your hands along the body, mouthing his nickname even more. Then you sat cross-legged and just stared at him, watched him pace slowly back and forth in the small room, listening for long periods before giving his two cents.

Bored, that's how you were suddenly feeling, and frustrated that the attention wasn't on you, if you were honest. You were sure more than ten minutes had passed, probably more like fifteen or twenty. And your wet panties were making you feel needy and uncomfortable; you had to get them off. Suddenly you stood and stripped, making San's eyebrows shoot up, before walking to the plug in the wall by the bed, connecting your new wand to it. You sat yourself back on the pillows, inspecting the on button to make sure you knew where to press. Then you placed the head in between your legs and pressed hard; you weren't prepared in the slightest for how it would feel.

It was a powerful one, on account of the cord; much more powerful than your last vibrator, and this was only the lowest setting, you were pretty sure. You nearly yelped with shock, the feeling almost painful with how stimulating it was. You jerked it away from your core, breath caught in your throat and your face completely shocked.

"Holy fuck," you whispered to San, who was staring hard and trying harder not to laugh, covering his mouth with his hand on instinct, even though his Mom couldn't see him. You saw him take a deep breath, spinning around so he wasn't looking at you anymore; within a minute he was ending the call, shoving his phone in his pocket and turning around to look at you.

"That thing is strong as hell," you said, still naked and spread wide open. He could see everything, see the wet spot in the panties you'd thrown not he ground, see your cunt glistening for him.

"I think you put it on the highest setting," he said, immediately ripping off his shirt and throwing it on the ground, crawling on the bed towards you. "Look, here," he said, showing you the buttons. "This side is for the high settings, this side is the low."

"I thought it was the opposite," you laughed, a twinge of embarrassment hitting your cheeks and making them redden.

"I thought you knew your way around vibrators," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss you.

"Shut the fuck up," you said as he closed the distance, opening your mouth for him to dive in, to pick up where you'd both let off. "Sannie," you added when he pulled away, making his head drop for a moment, his dimples popping as he smiled.

"I think that calls for punishment," he sighed, sitting himself up on his knees and caging you in, holding your wrists in his hand. "Hmm?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

But you couldn't answer him, all you could do was stare up with wide pleading eyes as your heart started racing, hoping beyond belief that he'd follow through with this.

You'd discussed it only briefly, saying you were open to trying it. You'd never edged yourself, much less been edged by someone in control of you; you weren't prepared for how frustrating it would feel, how far you'd drop into your head and how much you'd completely forget that anything else existed. He had the perfect tool at his disposal, and was pretty sure he could read your body well enough; of course he could, plus you wouldn't come for anything unless he told you you could, loving the feeling of being putty in his hands. After three lost orgasms you were tearily begging him to finally let you have one, and he relented, his own arousal making his cock so hard it was nearly throbbing in pain.

"Fuck, Sannie, fuck," you moaned, as you held onto his wrists, grinding your cunt against the soft head of the vibrator. The nickname fell off your tongue without a thought; even he didn't notice it, too enthralled in the scene in front of him, in watching you soak the head of the vibrator as you nearly came undone.

"You did so good for me baby, you can take this one," he said, and your eyes welled with tears, more from the sweetness than anything else.

"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you were nearly screaming, your climax finally hitting, the most intense clitoral orgasm of your life ripping though you like wildfire. Your legs shook violently on the bed as you rode it out, pushing your knees impossibly wider, chasing all the pleasure it had to give you.

"Our neighbors over there probably heard you," San chuckled as you came down, motioning his head out your window to the closest cottage.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," you cringed, biting your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh.

"No no, let them hear how good I fuck you," he said with a smirk, pushing away the toy to fully envelop you in a kiss, his mouth moving to your neck and hands grabbing at your chest, rubbing your nipples in his hands.

"Fuck, San," you sighed, still coming down from your high, your legs trembling under him. "My legs won't stop shaking," you laughed, holding onto the back of his hair as he moved his mouth down to your left nipple, rolling his tongue around it for a moment before sucking on it hard.

"You okay?" he chuckled as he lifted himself up again, slowly unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them, standing briefly to slip them and his boxers down and off. He was rock hard, cock already glistening at the tip, and your eyes fell to his length shamelessly, your tongue running over your lips. "Can you handle more?"

"I think so," you said quietly, your arms opening to him as he fell back on top of you, kissing you messily and tickling your side, making you scream and squirm.

"Hey!" you cried under him, laughing hard with a bright smile, turning your head to the side for a second as San continued to bury his mouth in your neck.

"Here, come here," he said as he relented, pulling back a bit and readjusting your legs, putting one knee over each of his shoulders. "I'll hold your legs like this so they won't shake," he said, using his left hadn't to guide his cock through your soaked cunt, then pushing in slowly.

A low moan fell from your lips, your eyes closing as you felt him stretch you, then bottom out. No matter how many times he'd been inside you he still felt so big; not quite as shocking as that very first night, but still he stretched you, still it sometimes felt hard to take, especially in certain positions. He waited until your eyebrows unfurrowed, until your breath evened out again, to start moving.

"Did you like what we did earlier?" he asked as he lazily stroked in and out of you, holding onto your thighs slung over his shoulders, leaning down so your faces were about a foot apart.

"Yes," you whispered between moans, eyes opening and shutting with every stroke, the feeling electric.

"You like this?" he asked.

"Yes, s-so much," you sighed, clenching down on him, the angle making your cunt almost numb with pleasure.

"Fuck, baby, do that again," he groaned above you, and you obliged, clenching down as he thrusted in, making his breath hitch. "Fuck I love your cunt so much," he moaned, making you clench again involuntarily at the use of the lewd word. "Your body is so fucking perfect, like it was made for me," he whispered as he closed the distance, your legs folded completely over you as he kissed you passionately, the angle now so deep you could feel him in your guts.

You were used to dirty talk from him, but this was so much more reverent than usual; as you both came your guts twisted in knots with all the pleasure you were feeling, body so spent you could barely walk. The rest of the day it was like you couldn't leave his side, as if breaking contact would lead to your sudden death; something in that moment, in those words, had latched you to him. The whole trip felt like a fever dream, felt unreal; you wouldn't realize how attached it'd made you until months later, when a challenging month would put everything in perspective in a way you wished you could have seen coming.

Present

There's nothing like catching the flu as an adult to remind you how fragile you are. Nothing like laying awake at three a.m. unsure if you'll survive the night to change your perspective.

It had been a very long time since you'd been sick like this; never had you taken two full weeks off of work, unable to walk much for the first week, spending every waking moment of the next nursing yourself back to health.

Every day began to bleed into the next, the way nothing was happening; you swore days were repeating themselves, felt like you were going slightly insane. The only break from the monotony was San, or Tina and Maya visiting, or your roommates occasionally knocking on your door to check that you were alive. Your head hurt so badly you couldn't look at your phone or computer; your body hurt so badly you didn't want to move at all.

It meant you spent the time thinking, thinking about things you'd shoved so far back in your mind you thought you'd never see them again. You thought of your family, thought of the images of your twin Micah caring for your dad that one summer so long ago, the first time his health took a severe nose-dive. Those images burned the back of your eyelids as they played through your head, making your brain feel fiery. You thought of the last year, of everything you and Tina had worked towards; you thought of the bar, of your wonderful coworkers, your beautiful friends that made life more fun than you ever thought it could be.

And you thought of San. You weren't sure why thinking of him, of everything, was what made you cry. He'd been with you almost every night you'd been sick, bringing you soup and tea, waking up in the middle of the night when you did and grabbing you more medicine on instinct. He held you close as you cried through your pain, comforting you until you finally, finally fell back into slumber.

The last year with him played through your head, and as long as it did, the tears kept flowing. A string of kindness from him, that was really all you could remember; you knew you'd been cruel, knew you'd kept him further than arm's length for so damn long. Yet here he still was, helping to take care of you, his warm body against yours the only reason you were getting decent sleep at night. During the day you were still feverish, exhausted, and in need of rest; but the sleep never came until he leaned down beside you, his work day behind him, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks and feeling over your forehead and neck to see just how feverish you were.

You vowed to be better. Not just to San, but to your family, to your friends, to everyone in your life who made it so good. Your life was not perfect, not the sort of thing anyone would dream of; only if that person was like you, too obsessed with their art to pursue any kind of normalcy, would they desire this strangeness. But you loved it, loved it all the more as you lay sick in bed, missing the strength of your legs as you twirled around the stage, missing the simple act of running your fingers over your keyboard, your mind clear enough to spew forth the stories always running through your thoughts.

"If you feel better by Valentine's Day, can I take you out that night for dinner? It's next Sunday," San asked you one evening as you lay slack and shivering against him.

"I'd love that," you replied, looking up at him with your red, watery eyes. Laying on your side with your head on his chest was a welcome change from your back, but the position was making your lungs squeeze a bit in a way you really hated.

"I was thinking we could go to the Melting Pot again, it's almost been a year since we went that one time," he said.

"I'll really have to be better if we go there," you laughed, coughing immediately afterwards.

"I know, we'll only go if you're not coughing anymore," he said, rubbing his hand comfortingly down your back.

As the week before Valentine's Day rolled on you were less and less sure of the plan; by that Thursday you were still a coughing, miserable mess. At least the fever had gone, for several days now, but the idea of getting dressed up to go out, especially to an extremely fancy restaurant, sounded positively awful. By some miracle though, Saturday morning you woke feeling much better. You were able to stand on your own, make your own breakfast; you even managed to sit up for a while and do some writing, before vegging the rest of the day away watching reality TV and eating anything you could find.

Sunday morning you felt even better; you'd shooed San home the previous day, told him he no longer needed to stay. He'd been a bit ragged with taking care of you for so long, and though you were thankful and wished he could be there forever to help you out, you knew he needed space and rest too. You slept like a rock though, finally feeling well due to the absence of your cough; you woke feeling far more refreshed, far more happy than you had in two long weeks.

The break from pain had you savoring everything; it wasn't until after your delicious breakfast that you saw the message from Millie.

My Kid Genius!

Oh how excited I am to be sending you this email! I ran into Mark Smith, owner of the Willow Theater at a dinner event last night, and spoke to him about your musical. He introduced me to one of the directors he works with often, and the guy immediately loved the whole premise. I showed him an excerpt from the opening song and he immediately said he wants it. He was super excited, he sent over paperwork this morning to have me sign (and there is some for you and Tina to sign as well, it is attached). The choice is yours now, whether you want them to be the ones to take you on!

How immensely proud I am! I hope you are as excited by this news as I am!

Talk to you soon,

Millie

It took you less than a second to dial her.

"Tina!" you screamed once you heard the line go live, cutting in so fast she couldn't even say hello.

"Oh my god, what?" she asked groggily, clearly having just woken up, the first morning after her work week.

"The Willow Theater wants our play!! Millie just emailed me!!" you cried.

"Wait, seriously?" she asked, yawning quickly.

"Yes seriously, wake up!" you laughed, jumping up and down in place, pacing your room frantically.

"I was up late last night, I'm fucking dead," she laughed back, sighing.

"Okay, well, yes seriously our musical is being picked up by this theater, and there's stuff we have to sign, it's a whole big thing, can we go out tonight and celebrate?" you rambled.

"Of course, of course," she replied, yawning again.

"How about Roberto's?" you asked, naming your favorite Taqueria.

"You're a cheap date, love," she joked with you.

"Come on, tacos and margaritas, what's a better way to celebrate?" you laughed.

"It'll be just tacos for you, you lightweight," she replied.

"I'll have a few sips, get real fucked up," you joked.

"Sounds good, text me later. I need more sleep," she yawned before hanging up, her brain drifting back into slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Only a few minutes later your phone rang again, San's name appearing bright on the screen. A feeling like you had forgotten something important hit you again, but with a sigh you answered, not wanting to make a big deal of it.

"Hello!" you answered brightly, the giddiness you were feeling so obviously present in your tone.

"How are you feeling baby?" he asked, yawning himself.

"Really good, I just got really good news," you said, sitting yourself down on your bed cross-legged.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" he asked.

"Me and Tina's musical is being picked up by one of the really big theaters, it's called the Willow," you said.

"Oh I've heard of it! That's amazing!" he responded, clearly tired but excited by the news.

"Thank you," you smiled, melting into the phone a bit.

"I'm so proud of you, I knew someone was going to want to put it on," he sighed.

"Sannie," you whined, never sure what to do with his praise.

"It sounds like you're feeling better, are you?" he asked.

"Yeah, a lot better- oh! I'm gonna go to Roberto's with Tina tonight, I'm sure Maya will be coming too, do you wanna come with?" you asked excitedly, with all the happiness in the world.

"I thought- you're feeling up to going out?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better," you answered, still happy as can be.

"I thought I was gonna take you out if you were feeling better," he said, and you were silent for a moment, confused. "It's Valentine's Day today," he said, knowing that you must be forgetting the date.

"Oh- oh my god I totally forgot," you nearly whispered, suddenly feeling slightly sick.

"I thought you maybe had," he said, sighing.

"Don't say it like that, I've been sick, I've been- this news was so surprising I just- this is all I've ever wanted Sannie, and the fact that I'm doing it with Tina is so amazing, and we really need to sign some paperwork tonight, that's honestly why I want to get together with her so we can do it in person and-" you cut yourself off with a deep breath. "We can go out to a fancy dinner any night, I just really wanna celebrate with my friend today," you sighed.

"I get it," he replied, so short.

"I get that you're pissed at me-"

"I'm not pissed, just surprised," he said, cutting you off.

"That's not true, you're pissed," you replied, and you both were just quiet, the truth of your statement lingering in the air. "Do you wanna come with us?" you finally asked, just to break the silence.

"Sure, yeah," he said, sighing hard.

"You don't have to-"

"Yes, I wanna come celebrate with you, this is a big deal," he said, asking you for the address of the place, promising he'd meet you all there at seven.

It should have been a nerve-wracking night, the first time the four of you were out like this together. Tina and Maya had met him in passing several times by then, but never had you been on what was basically a double-date; you two sat opposite them, you all crammed into the tiny wooden booths with yellow painted tables, the paint chipping at every edge, exposing the cheap wood beneath.

"Hey, that girl who rejected you still works here," Maya joked as she walked to the table with your drinks, reminding you of a hilarious day more than two years ago, the first time you tried your luck at flirting with someone who you barely knew. It'd been a dare too, just to add to the ridiculousness; you failed remarkably, and ever since that day your friends had never let it go, the look of pure embarrassment on your face still etched in their memories.

"Oh my god, seriously?" you laughed as she scooted into the booth, wrapping her arm around Tina and pulling her into a quick kiss, the two cuddling up against each other as they started sipping their margaritas.

"Did anyone tell you about the new line cook at work?" Tina asked you, head still rested against Maya's shoulder.

"No, how new is he?" you asked.

"Like two weeks ago he started I think, I guess right after you were sick. Right when I went back," she said. "Apparently he's one of Ilya's ex's, and there's been so much drama since the day he started. I think Julie's gonna fire him, it's a big mess."

"She better, I know she hates to do it but it's necessary sometimes," you sighed, sniffling hard as some mucus fell down your nose.

"You know how she is," Tina sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

"But he's Ilya's ex, like that's just a recipe for disaster," you said.

"I don't think Julie knows that part," she replied.

"Oh, shit," you sighed, raising your eyebrows. The two of you fell into easy conversation, Maya piping up here and there; it was how things always were with the three of you, Maya always comfortable to take a backseat in the conversation as the two of you blabbed about anything and everything. It helped that she was quite introverted, but she also just had this understanding; you and Tina were attached at the hip, you saw each other as soulmates in a way. Though you weren't romantically involved, your dynamic was something precious and holy, something you valued more than almost anything; you sometimes got so distracted talking to each other that if other people were around, you forgot them.

It had been so long since anyone had seen this happen and had a problem with it, that you'd nearly forgotten how bad it could be. And you hadn't realized for so long how understanding Maya was, how much grace she gave the two of you in these situations; the evening wore on until San abruptly told you he had to leave, and with only a simple hug and kiss on the cheek he was off, his brow furrowed, his entire body leaking the frustration and stress he was obviously feeling. As he stormed off towards the front door of the restaurant you felt a twinge in your chest; as happy as this evening had been, as good as a few sips of alcohol had you feeling, you couldn't just sit and let him go.

"I'm gonna go follow him, he seems upset," you said to your friends, quickly shuffling out of the booth with your purse in hand, walking as fast as you could without making a scene. They both nodded at you, but you could see something tense behind their eyes; whether it was worry or judgement, you couldn't tell.

"San!" you called behind him, the streets quite desolate, even for a Sunday evening. Though he was almost a full block away you could still easily make him out, not a single human between you. His head twitched a bit at the sound but he didn't look directly, so you broke into a full on run, feeling comfortable to do so given just how empty the street was.

"San!" you called again, closer now, and finally he turned his head. You caught up to him in several seconds, breaking into a fierce coughing fit from the exertion; you held onto his arm as you did, composing yourself with a deep breath, clearing your throat.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You seemed upset, I wanted to see if you were okay," you said, still holding onto him.

"I'm okay," he nodded, but his tone was flat like your's was sometimes, in a way that his rarely was.

"Are you sure?" you asked, looking up at him, but his eyes wouldn't meet yours. "Sannie I'm trying to do the thing that a girlfriend is supposed to do, you know, seeing if you're okay, running after you to get you to talk even if you just walked away all of the sudden..." You sighed as you trailed off, staring off into the empty street, the whole world feeling like it revolved around just the two of you, every nook and cranny made for just you two to exist in.

"I didn't walk off all of the sudden, I stayed for almost two hours," he sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time, sighing again when he saw it.

"But you said goodbye and got up to leave so abruptly," you said.

"I tried to say something earlier, but I couldn't get a word in," he said, finally looking down at you. "You and Tina were just ignoring us two the whole time, you know that right?"

"I- we weren't meaning to, fuck, I know we can be that way sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head. "I- I'm sorry Sannie, I didn't realize I was doing that."

"You should have seen Maya's face, the way she was just looking back and forth between you two. Like she puts up with that shit all the time," he said, curt.

"She's never minded it," you replied, taking your hands off his arms now, recoiling in on yourself at the tone of his voice.

"Well I guess I do," he said, crossing his arms.

"You really stormed off cause of that? Cause you were annoyed at me and Tina for talking so much? We had just-"

"I did not storm off, I excused myself very politely," he nearly snapped, looking up and down the street, obviously checking for potential eavesdroppers.

"Fuck, yes, sorry, you didn't storm off, but you're obviously really fucking upset at me and I'm struggling to believe it's all because of me and Tina doing our thing that we do where we talk in circles and no one can get a word in, listen I'm sorry, we just got such fucking good news! We were excited, we had to discuss a bunch of shit, decide if we even wanted to sign into this contract, it's gonna be a shit ton of work, it'll be cr-"

"Please keep your voice down," he sighed, spotting a man waiting to cross the street at the corner.

"San, why are you so upset?" you asked, your volume lower as he requested, but your tone no less distressed.

"Why am I upset? Because I was thinking I'd get to take you out to a nice dinner tonight, that I'd get to celebrate Valentine's Day with my girlfriend, that we'd have nice whiskey and delicious food and-"

"Oh, are my tastes too cheap for you, is that it?" you snapped.

"I don't give a fuck where we are, I just want to be with you!" he snapped back. "You told me I'd get to take you out tonight, of course I'm fucking upset that it didn't happen!"

"I got huge fucking news this morning, don't you get that?! And who gives a fuck about Valentine's Day, we can go out any day! I wanted to celebrate with my friend who I've been working tirelessly with for almost a fucking year! A year! And it's finally working and we're finally going somewhere and we're actually gonna be seeing our shit up on a stage- fuck, why are you ruining this night for me!? I'm supposed to be celebrating and happy!" you nearly growled, tears forming on your lash line now, your whole body shaking with rage.

"You could have just told me to stay home," he growled back.

"Oh, you didn't actually want to celebrate with us?!" you snapped.

"I didn't want to go out with your friends who are so clearly in love and have them rub their perfect relationship in my face, joking about some girl who works there who you've hit on, how the fuck is that supposed to make me feel?!" he yelled.

"It was a dare San, a stupid fucking dare that Maya gave me one day when we were bored as fuck, and she just wanted to mess with me, and I stupidly went along with it and was totally humiliated by the look of disgust on the girl's face, that shit means nothing!" you cried, your hands coming up to cup your face.

"You obviously care about them much more than you care about me," he sighed, his volume finally lowering.

"My friends?" you asked, staring at him with confusion, and he nodded. "San I've known Tina for like five years now, she's my best friend, she's been with me through so much."

"I've been with you through a lot too," he said, looking away.

"It's different though, with her..." you trailed off, not sure what to say. The pile of tears finally burst from your lash line, falling down your cheeks in a sudden rush. You wiped at them furiously, your legs shaking despite the heat, the alcohol working it's way through you, making the conversation all the worse.

"I wish you cared about me like you care about them," he finally said, breaking the tense silence.

"I do Sannie," you said, but you both could read the wobble in your tone.

"I wish you would be so comfortable with me in public, like they are," he said.

"I've just never been very comfortable with PDA," you sighed. "I wish- I wish you'd understand how strange I am. I feel like you expect me to be like someone or something else, but I don't know what that thing is, and I don't think I could be different even if I knew what you wanted."

"I don't want you to be different," he said slowly, finally taking a step towards you, opening his arms. Your body immediately reacted, slumping into him. "I like you just the way you are, even if you piss me off sometimes."

"I knew you were pissed," you chuckled through a sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe at your eyes, more tears falling now that he was holding you. They were a mixture of worry and relief, a mishmash of every sort of feeling. As you stood there in the street, the weight of the world felt like it suddenly hit you; you felt dizzy, suddenly nauseous, and you pulled away from San and ducked down into the gutter just in time for the few sips of alcohol to eject themselves from your mouth, a gross blue mess of liquid hitting the stained concrete.

"I hate when we fight," you said through tears as you stood to look at him, his hands coming to brush your hair out of your face, one moving to your forehead on instinct.

"Me too baby, me too," he said through a sigh, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"We need to stop doing it," you squeaked, more tears flowing, a deep headache beginning to bloom at the nape of your neck.

"I know," he whispered, shushing you; he carried you home on his back, helped you wash up in your sink, before kissing you goodbye, holding you so tight you thought you might pop.

Whiplash, that was what the day had been; you fell asleep exhausted from the rollercoaster, hoping dearly that whatever the next few weeks had in store, none of it would come with the sudden news that your dreams weren't coming true after all.

next part ->

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@completelyjae @midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27 @snapcracklen

thank you all as always <3333

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #san smut #san x reader #san x y/n #choi san #choi san smut #choi san x reader #choi san fanfic #choi san ateez

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winchesterwild78 · 4 months ago

Text

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: mention of divorce, angst, self esteem issues, fluff

A/N: Day 12 of my holiday fics. I hope you enjoy this short series. I’m really excited about it. All work is my own, please don’t take it. Reblogs and likes are welcomed.

This is a work of FICTION. Jensen is divorced from Danneel. If you don’t like that, then don’t read it. Sorry, but shit happens in life, and this was a story that popped in my head to round out this Christmas Series.

Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen was gone filming in Toronto. His parents were flying in tomorrow and his siblings and their families a day after that. Jensen and I were hosting Christmas this year at our house in Connecticut. We decided to stay so we could be closer to the kids for the holiday.

Since Jensen and Danneel got divorced the holidays were always a bit tricky to navigate. Things got a little more tense when Jensen and I got married, but I try to keep things cordial with Danneel for the sake of the kids.

I was sitting on the couch working on my laptop when my phone rang. I saw it was Jensen and smiled.

“Hey baby. How’s filming?” “Hey sweetheart, it’s going well. I hope we wrap for the holiday soon. I don’t want to miss the kids’ performances and I can’t wait to be back home with you.”

“Me either baby. Are you guys behind?” “A little. It’s frustrating, but that’s usually how it goes when I want to wrap early or on time. I’ll keep you posted. Mom and Dad will be there in time to go with you though.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. I know the kids are excited about seeing them.”

“Well darlin’, I’m needed back on set. I love you and I’ll see you soon.” “I love you too, Jens.”

We hung up and I sat in the silence of the house. It was about a week until Christmas and the house was decorated with beautiful colors, twinkle lights, and gifts under the tree.

I missed Jensen, but I was so incredibly proud of his work. I just hoped he’d be home in time for the kids’ concert and play, and of course Christmas.

The next morning I got up early to get Jensen’s parents from the airport. His father was always very quiet and reserved around me, but his mother was always so sweet and welcoming. The first time I met her she hugged me and told me she knew Jensen was in love with me.

A few hours later we were walking through the door and I showed Alan and Donna the guest room they would be staying in. “I hope this is to your liking. There are extra towels in the bathroom, and extra toiletries under the sink. If you need anything, let me know.”

Donna stepped towards me, “It’s perfect sweetie, thank you. Just take a deep breath. Everything is going to be fine.” I nodded and offered her a soft smile.

I sent Jensen a text.

Me: Your parents are here safe and sound. Your mom said Josh and his family and Mackenzie and her family are still coming tomorrow. I love you.

I started cooking dinner a few hours later. Alan was watching the Dallas game and Donna was in the kitchen helping me. I still hadn’t heard back from Jensen and I was a little sad.

Donna must have sensed it because she placed her hand on my arm, “Y/N, these shoots right before a holiday break can stretch on for hours. I’m sure he’s just been tied up on set.”

I nodded. She was right, but it didn’t stop the pang in my chest. I love Jensen’s family and his kids, but the thought of doing all of this and facing Danneel without him just makes me sad and a little anxious.

I was busy cooking and didn’t hear my phone. “Y/N, I think your phone went off.” Donna smiled.

I looked at the screen and saw a notification from Jensen and smiled. Donna saw and smiled too. “See I told you, sweetie.” I nodded and opened my phone.

Jensen: Hey baby. Sorry it’s been a long day. Thanks for holding down the fort. Don’t let Josh tell you I was the trouble maker growing up, because he was. 😂 I miss you so much. We are close to wrapping. I hope I can make it back in time for the kids’ shows. I’ll call you later. I love you.

I smiled and set my phone down. “Mom, before Josh gets here I need to know, which one was the trouble maker, Josh or Jensen?” She laughed, “Jensen told you Josh was, didn’t he?” I nodded.

“Well sweetie, both of them kept me on my toes. Especially after Mac was born. They became very protective of her and were trying to be her favorite brother.” “That’s sweet. So, which one became her favorite?” “She never really said, but I know she’s always had a soft spot for Jensen. He was seven when she was born and he doted on her. He was finally a big brother and stepped into that role so easily.”

“I can really see him doing that. He’s always been so amazing no matter what his role is, but especially when it comes to family. He’s an amazing father and husband. I know how incredibly lucky I am to have him in my life. Like Jensen, my previous marriage didn’t work out, so both of us came into this relationship with walls. Jensen has an undeniable charm that can break down any wall.”

Alan asked for a beer from the living room and Donna smirked. She handed me the beer, “Here, from what Jensen says you’re pretty great at breaking down walls too. Go break that wall down. Deep down Alan does care about you, he’s just guarded.” I nodded and took the beer.

I took a deep breath. I know Jensen’s relationship with his father is important, so it’s important to me to have a good relationship with him too. I walked into the living room and handed Alan the beer. He looked up at me, “Thanks.” I nodded. I looked at the television and saw the Cowboys were winning. Lucky for me I had always liked them and saw this as an in.

I started out by testing the water with questions about the game, and before too long we were talking about the season and things seemed lighter. I excused myself to check on dinner and found Donna in the kitchen smiling.

I touched her arm, “Thank you.” She smiled and nodded.

The next two days were a blur. Josh, Mackenzie and their families came into town and tonight was the night of the kids’ performances. Jensen still wasn’t home, and it broke my heart.

His kids are everything to him and to miss something like this was no doubt breaking his heart. I tried to call him, but it went right to voicemail.

We all got ready and headed to the school for the performances. As we walked up to the school I saw JJ, Arrow, and Zeppelin standing outside looking around with Danneel. Donna took my hand and gave me a little squeeze. “You’ve got this, and you’ve got all of us.” I nodded.

I walked over to them and made eye contact with Danneel. “Mama Y/N! Grammy and Papa! You came!” JJ squealed first when she saw us. Arrow and Zeppelin followed her as hugs were exchanged. The kids looked around and I saw their faces fall a little.

Before I could say anything Danneel stepped forward, “So I see his children aren’t a priority anymore and he sent you instead. You will never be what I was to him no matter how hard you try. I give your relationship 5 years tops before he finds someone better, someone worthy. You’re just his rebound honey.”

I gasped and felt a pang in my chest. I had always felt a little out of place in his life. He was Jensen freaking Ackles, and I was just Y/N, a fan he met and we hit it off.

Before I could say anything I heard a deep voice from behind me. It startled me. “Enough! Don’t speak to her like that, especially in front of these children. She means more to Jensen than you ever did or will. Believe me, she’s more than a rebound. Y/N is the love of his life, his wife and you will treat her with respect.” I couldn’t believe my ears or my eyes. The man coming to my defense was Alan. I looked at him and he offered me a soft smile. I mouthed, ‘thank you’, and he nodded.

Danneel backed off and told the kids to come on. Before they walked away I knelt down, “Guys, daddy is trying really hard to get here. I promise you that’s all he’s talked about the past few days. If he’s not here I’m going to record it and show it to him. He’s so proud of the three of you, and he loves you three more than anything.” They hugged me tightly and JJ whispered, “Thank you.” I nodded and they went into the school with Danneel.

We followed and took our seats. I looked at my phone one last time before silencing it. There was still no message or missed call from Jensen. My heart broke for the kids and for him. He hated missing anything they did. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Danneel sitting a few rows back with her boyfriend, glaring at me. I turned back and looked towards the stage.

The house lights turned off and everyone clapped. I grabbed my phone to record when a low voice was beside me, “Is this seat taken?” I turned and looked up seeing Jensen.

“Jensen! You’re here. Oh my god!” I jumped up and threw my arms around him and kissed him. He chuckled, “Sweetheart we need to sit. They are about to start.”

Jensen sat between me and his mother. He glanced over at his family and looked back at Danneel who was shocked to see him. The first to perform was JJ. She was singing with the chorus and had a solo. After her performance we applauded and Jensen yelled, “Way to go J bird.” She beamed because she knew it was Jensen.

After the twins play Jensen was beaming with pride. We met them backstage and the kids leaped in Jensen’s arms. “Daddy, you made it!” Danneel stood to the side with a scowl on her face.

“Nothing could ever keep me away from you three. I love you guys so much and I’m so proud of you. Now, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

We all laughed and headed towards the cars. Danneel was going home and the kids were going to stay at our house. We all went out to dinner and of course Jensen was noticed by some fans. As I watched his interactions with the fans my mind kept replaying everything Danneel said to me. Then I saw her.

The beautiful, young woman who went to every convention, every party open to the public and everyone knew who she was. Jensen knew her by name too.

She was stunning and the way she hugged him and he leaned into her made my breath hitch.

She’s studying to be an actress and she’s a musician. Young and absolutely beautiful.

Jensen’s laugh filled the air and I saw her hand on his chest. The sting of tears filling my eyes and my heart aching.

“Daddy, come on we’re starving” the kids said. She looked over at them, “oh my goodness, Jensen. The kids have gotten so big. Hey guys I don’t know if you remember me, but I remember meeting you guys a few years ago. Y'all have grown so much.” Jensen introduced her to everyone there except me. I sat there with the hole in my heart growing.

Jensen and her continued talking for a while longer and the pain in my chest just grew.

We had all sat down to order while Jensen continued talking. Donna leaned over, squeezed my hand and said, “Remember he loves his fans, but he loves you more.” I looked at her with tears in my eyes, “I hope so. Um, excuse me for a moment.”

I stood and walked to the bathroom as the tears fell. How could he forget to introduce me? Was Danneel right? Was I just a rebound?

When I returned to the table the food had arrived and Jensen was finally at the table. There was an opened gift next to him on the table.

I looked at it and then at him. He leaned over as I sat down, “Are you okay?” I just nodded.

Donna gave my hand a gentle squeeze and smiled softly.

After we ate we drove back to the house. I kept looking at Jensen who had a huge smile plastered on his face and my eyes flicked down to the gift.

“Jens, what’s in the gift?” “Oh she had a collage made of us to hang on the wall.” “Oh that’s sweet, but how did she get pictures of us?” “Oh no, pictures of her and I.”

I swallowed hard and felt the sting of the tears, “Oh.”

Jensen must have noticed the crack in my voice, “Baby, what’s wrong?” I shook my head and looked out the window.

The tears started to fall. I tried not to let Danneel’s words get to me, but maybe she was right. She had been married to him for over a decade, and I definitely looked different than her and the other women he had dated.

When we pulled up at home I put a smile on my face as we walked towards the door.

Jensen handed Josh the keys and told him he’d be in the house in a minute. Josh looked at me and then Jensen and nodded. Donna took the kids inside and before she left she leaned in and said something to Jensen. He nodded.

Taking my hand he asked me to wait.

Once everyone had gone inside Jensen pulled me back inside the warmth of the car.

“Baby, please talk to me. You’ve been crying all night. What can I do to help you?”

I swallowed hard and looked down at my lap. I couldn’t look at him. “I just let Danneel get in my head, then I saw you at the restaurant with her and how you both were acting towards each other made me a little jealous and sad. It looked like you were flirting with her. Then you introduced her to everyone except me. Like you were embarrassed to admit you were married to me. If you’ve changed your mind about me, about us then please tell me. I’ll be okay, but I need to know.”

By the time I stopped talking the tears were falling hard and fast.

Jensen’s breath was shaky. He grabbed my hand. “Oh baby. No, I love you and I haven’t changed my mind about us, and I never will. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. Mom told me what Danneel said to you. Dad was right, you are the love of my life. You’re not a rebound. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. You’re everything to me and if you asked me to, I'd give up everything to stay by your side forever.” He leaned forward to kiss me, but stopped, waiting for me to close the distance. “And as far as why I didn’t introduce you, it’s because she knows who you are. I talk about you all the time and her and I have talked about you and how much I love you. I’m sorry sweetheart.” “Jensen, I don’t want you to give anything up, I just need to stop letting her get in my head.”

I leaned forward, closing the distance between us and kissed him. The kiss was soft at first, but then deepened and became full of need. His hands trailed down my body and I moaned.

“Jens.” I needed him. My arousal soaked my panties and I could feel his through his pants.

He pulled me on his lap as we continued kissing. The rest of the world disappeared around us. At that moment it was just Jensen and I.

Things were getting hot and heavy as his phone went off. He groaned against me and looked at his phone.

“Josh, you’re kinda interrupting something.” Jensen laughed at whatever Josh said. “Yeah, we’re on our way in.”

He hung up and chuckled, “We should go inside. I promise we will finish this later.” He kissed me again as I climbed off his lap.

We walked towards the house holding hands, “I love you, Y/N. So much.” “I love you too, Jensen.”

Walking into the house we were greeted with the sounds of laughter and children playing. Josh walked up to us laughing, “Alright you two, next time maybe climb in the backseat. I swear you two are like teenagers.”

My face flushed red and Jensen laughed, “You’re just jealous you didn’t think about making out with Ali in the car.” They both laughed.

Later that night as Jensen and I went to bed he pulled me into his arms. “I believe we were right about here.” Jensen said as he pulled me onto his lap. I giggled as he kissed down my neck and his hands trailed over my body.

Jensen took his time with me tonight. We reconnected and my heart filled with so much love. As he pulled me close to his side and my head rested on his chest I felt all the love he had for me. “Jens, I’m sorry. Sorry I let her get in my head and I spiraled from there. You just got home and tonight should have been a happy homecoming, not one filled with tears.”

He turned his head and looked at me, “Hey, this is part of life. D has always had a way of getting under people’s skin, she just knows how to cause chaos. I love you and only you. You’re it for me. I’m not going anywhere and I wake up every day thankful to have found you. You’re my calm in the chaos and the love of my life. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life proving to you how grateful I am for you, for us. I love you, Y/N. Today, tomorrow, forever.”

A tear slipped out as I took in a deep, shaky breath. “I promise to work on letting her get to me. I wake up every day still in disbelief that you chose me. I never thought I’d find my home, the love of my life until I met you. Jensen you wear so many hats in your life and so many people depend on you. I want to be the one person in your life you can lean on, depend on. I love you, Jensen, today, tomorrow, forever. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you mean so much to me. I’m so glad you’re home, now we can focus on us and family. This Christmas is going to be one of the best in my life because I get to spend it with you and surrounded by family.”

Jensen placed a kiss on my lips, “I can’t wait to spend this Christmas with you and our family too. This will be the first Christmas in a long time where I have everyone I love and care about under one roof. Thank you, Y/N for making it happen.”

I nodded and smiled, “Good night Jens, I love you.” “Good night, sweetheart. I love you too.”

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

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@mandee7 @barnes70stark

@spnaquakindgdom

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut #jackles

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ghostbustting · 10 months ago

Text

╰┈➤“𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑷𝑰𝑪„ ๋࣭⭑

From the 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 series

Early 90's!James Hetfield x Reader

Contains Smut.

For as far as I could remember, they were supposed to send me here with someone else, but that fucking dickhead decided to catch a flu all of a sudden. I barely know shit.. Hell, I’m new to this job.

So here I am, looking dumb as ever as I try to make my way through the venue of the Metallica concert, clutching my camera tightly in one hand, my other hand clutching my photographer ID, completely forgetting the fact that both of those items had straps on them that are currently around my neck. Oh but what can an overthinker like me say? Anyone could snatch them in a flash of light.

My nervous habits told me to chew on my lips, but obviously I couldn’t risk the chance of ruining my lipstick, got to keep the good image, right? So instead, I just chew on the inside of my cheek as I make my way past people and people and people. Pretty sure I saw a girl half naked back there. But- eh, it’s the rock n’ roll life I suppose.

Eventually, I found the way to the backstage, having to show my ID to the security. There were loads of people and rooms there, my mind fills with the thought of where the members could be since I was supposed to be taking pictures of them. The smell.. I can’t tell whether someone has brought a lot of booze or those are sweats of the roadie walking around me. Probably both.

Walking, I peek through every room in case any of the members were indeed in there. Which, is a complete fail. Honestly, I need a human tracker for these men, I’m almost 75% sure at least one of them is inside a groupie at this very moment.

With each steps I take, the more nervous and impatient I get. I can’t wait to just skedaddle out of here at the end of the night.

Hopeless, I decided to approach one of the roadies. I clear my throat before poking his shoulder with my finger, “Excuse me?” My voice came out a little small and soft, “Do you know where the band is?"

I completely forgot how loud it is here, so all I could catch from his answer was to keep walking straight. Perhaps I should take a break from all those loud music, my ears really aren’t it for this shit.

And so I walk.. walk.. walk.. Still not a single member came across my path. I huff, feeling clueless and lost. That is.. until my eyes caught two doors with the signs: “METALLICA” on both of them. One of them had the names “Ulrich - Newsted” and the other door had “Hetfield - Hammett”. Bingo.

I decided to take a visit the vocalist and guitarist’s room first, gently knocking on the closed door before opening it and taking a step in, my steps cautious. The room seemed quiet compared to the other rooms and the chaotic condition outside. I gulped, “Hello?” I whisper in a hushed voice to the empty room, closing the door behind me.

Or rather- what I thought was an empty room.

"Hello to you too, miss."

I flinch a little, spinning around due to the sudden deep voice that greeted me back. My eyes were met by the unreal sight of James Hetfield, leaning against the doorframe to the toilet with a gorgeous smirk planted on his lips that many girls probably dream of kissing out there, a halfway finished bear in his grasp. Took my system quite awhile to realize that the blue eyed blond in front of me is shirtless, only in jeans that probably hugged his ass.

Closing my panicked yet ‘blessed by the sight’ eyes with my hands almost in an instant, I turn around, “I’m so sorry!” I walk towards the door with still a blind sight, only when I bumped into the door that I remembered I had closed it. “Ah shit-” I held my hurt forehead with one hand and the other moved to the door handle to open it with a push.

I was in fact, supposed to pull it.

Before I could try to pull the door and make my way out, a hand slammed itself on the door and pushed it back closed. I slowly turn around, finding myself being towered over by James. A small chuckle leaves his lips, “It’s okay,” His eyes went to my camera, “cam girl, are you?” He asked, his voice low yet gentle.

I clear my throat, “Photographer.” I correct him, my voice small and nervous, trying to ignore the proximity between the both of us. He chuckle once more and nod, “A smart one it seems.” At that moment, I feel like his eyes were seeing through my skin and directly into my soul, and that fact made me feel my cheeks heating up.

Not only his eyes, it’s the way he licks his lips, the way he towers over me, the way his bare chest is so close to meeting my clothed one, and also the fact that he’s James fucking Hetfield. Everything about him intrigued everyone.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He spoke up once more. Seeing me struggling with my words, his hand reach down to grab my ID, pulling it up to his face, due to the ID’s strap around my neck, I was also pulled close, bumping into his bare torso, but he looked like he could care less and focused on my ID.

I can hear him mumble my name once he read it. The way my name rolled off his tongue is surely something I’d want to hear again and again and again.

“You okay?” His voice snapped me out of the short trance I’m in.

“H-huh?"

He smirked, his teeth peeking out just the slightest. My eyes watch cautiously as his hand reach out to lay on my chest, right where my heart would be beating hard, fast, and loud. Oh, that doesn’t sound right. But it truly is what’s going on with my heart, and I can’t tell why. “Your little heart’s beating a little too loud there, sweets.” His voice sounds playful as those words escaped his mouth in a whisper.

My mind blanked out while I try to find the perfect answer, “I- i-” I would protest, but the sight of my chest heaving up and down would simply proof my statement wrong.

Even if I wanted to speak, I’d cut myself off in surprise as his hand slowly make it’s way across my chest and towards one of my clothed breasts, talk about being subtle.. I sucked in deep breath when he suddenly squeezed and groped it gently.

I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back whatever noise that was urging to slip past my lips, I try to speak, “W-we shouldn’t—”

Too late. Cause before I could finish my sentence, he press his lips onto mine and at that moment.. I can feel all the self respect and professionality in me float away and evaporate into thin air as I press my lips against him back, locked in a desperate kiss.

His hand was still groping at my chest while his other one trails to wrap around my waist and pull me even closer, my arms coming up to wrap around his neck, practically clinging onto him like a koala on a tree, my fingers climbing up to run through his blond hair.

Our lips just continued rubbing together, his tongue eventually coming to meet mine between our now red lips due to my lipstick. I can feel his hands tugging on my shirt and pants and unbuttoning them one by one while walking us to the couch in the room, all while our tongues still meet in the sloppy desperate kiss.

Everything goes so fast. Well, that is what happens when it’s something fun that’s going on. Time can be painfully slow yet annoyingly fast sometimes.

Next thing I knew, I was thrown onto the couch, every single fabric that once covered me thrown away. I took deep breaths from the kiss and watch as he lean down to take my camera that previously fell onto the floor.

My heart beats faster as he approach me and grab me by my hair harshly, I gasp and wince while he is pulling my face forward to the camera. I didn’t know what’s going on until a flash from the camera blinded my eyes.

A smirk once again is seen on the face of James Hetfield in satisfaction before putting the camera strap around his neck, my camera now dangling from him. Like an obedient pet, I sit there and watch every move makes carefully, waiting for what’s next.

His hand meets my cheek, I can feel his slightly rough finger pads stroking my heated red skin, “Such a good girl..” He whispers, his other hand coming down to unbuckle his belt.

My eyes widens in surprise, yet there’s also a hint of excitement behind all of those nervousness as a another fabric is discarded and join the floor. The only thing keeping me from what would be his cock is his boxers, yet that didn’t even help hide how hard and strained little James is.

I look up at him, our eyes meeting while I search for a sign of permission as my hand slowly make it’s way to his boxers, causing his eyes to gaze down at it instead. Hooking my finger on the waistband, I slowly pull it down until it joins the jeans on the floor.

A sigh left James as the cold air meets his beautiful length. My hand reached for it and slowly stroke it up and down, feeling every veins move under my palm. I was unsure of how I was doing, but the way his hips bucked up proves an answer.

“Use your mouth. Make me proud, yea?”

And that’s what I did. My lips wrap around the tip of his length, licking the salty precum dripping out in beads. My tongue slowly trail to the underside of his length, carefully but surely.

Then slowly, my head starts to bob up and down his length with my cheeks hollowed, sucking hard like a true slut.

My hazy eyes look up at him as I please him with the warmth of my mouth, only to be greeted by another flash of the camera, capturing a perfect picture of my vulnerable position. He groans at the sight and I went even faster.

His other hand went to my hair and guided me. Though I did choke a few times, my saliva coating his length even more. Tears starts to build up in my eyes, my vision becoming blurry while my throat fight to make him proud. My moans muffled around his length while his groans are delivered clearly.

Not long, I could tell he was close. I suppose that’s why he then pull his length out of my mouth, my jaw aching just a bit. I pant for breath as he sit down on the couch and grab me, pulling me up on his lap with my body weak.

He place my hair out of my face and kissed my lips for a second, “Ready to be filled? Hmm?” His cock was right underneath my bare pussy, I whine at the sensation, hands on his shoulder as I look down, grinding on him a little. “Hips up, sweets.”

I did as he told me, lifting my hips as he position his length. Slowly, I begin to sink down.. moaning in unison with the blond man that’s currently buried inside me.

His length was way thicker than I thought, stretching me out and making me a whining mess before even moving. That fucking sly smirk is still on his face as he place his hands firmly on my hips, “Move baby, move.”

“I-” I try to protest but words seems to find their way out difficult. So I slowly lift my hips up and sink back down, repeating the same move over and over again till I found the ability to accelerate my move.

Moans leave my lips like a sinful melody, my body bouncing up and down on his length like a forbidden dance. Yet I’m enjoying every second of this. And by his groans and expression, I can tell it’s mutual.

Another flash of the camera blinded me, capturing a picture of me on him with my breasts bouncing from how fast I was moving. I whimper and bury my face in his neck, my hot breath meeting his skin and causing his hips to buck up and meet mine.

Eventually, my ability to move with that same pleasuring speed starts to disappear as vulnerability starts to get to me more and more, my body becoming weak and all the senses I have intoxicated with how good he feel in me. “I- I can’t.. f-fuck..” I cried, shaking my head.

With a chuckle, James simply manhandled me once more and slammed my body down on the couch, he then held my legs and put them up on his shoulder.

Suddenly, his hips starts ramming into me in an unbelievable speed, making my moans even more louder and high pitched. "Fuck!!"

Whatever possessed this man I will never know, cause a sex like this is a sex I can only think of in the middle of a lonely night, my thoughts would be saying it’s unreal and that I'm delusional.

But here I am, stuffed with James fucking Hetfield.

“J-James..” My voice whispered in gasps for him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as tears continue to roll out of my eyes.

Another flash of the camera. This time, capturing the sight of my tearful and vulnerable face. Then another flash. And another. And another. Shit, this man is gonna make me lose my job..

“So good.. fuck.. Hang in there, sweetheart..” He groaned and speed up even more making me gasp even louder, “James!!” I screamed. He thrusts so oddly well, hitting every single spot that he knew would make my toes curl.

But then, the moment his fingers greeted my clit by rubbing harsh circles on it, I knew I wouldn’t last any longer. “I can’t..! P-please..” I beg, as if I wanted this to end while knowing damn well I don’t.

My body squirms underneath him, like a leech that’s been poured salt on. I grabbed onto a pillow on the couch and press it on my face, crying into it.

“Show your face. Now!” He lift my hips up, still thrusting, then his palm meets my ass in a harsh spank, causing me to flinch and obediently abandon the pillow. My eyes met his and I can’t even tell what expression he had on because of my blurry eyes.

My chest rises up and falls down, panting for breath. “…’M close.. James, I’m close..” I whimpered, gripping onto the couch.

“I know baby, me too..” He groans and his hips’ movement starts to falter, “Let go, sweetheart..”

I took deep breaths and gasp once the knot in my stomach released and white fluids starts to drip out of my pussy, around his length. I whined at the sensation and bite my lip.

Then, James pulled out and starts to pump his length with his hand, shooting his load on my stomach and chest, groaning. He took out the camera once more and took a picture of my dripping cunt and my cum-painted body.

I try to relax and breathe normally again, my hand reaching up to lightly touch the cum of James fucking Hetfield on my chest, only to flinch when James suddenly wrap his hand around my throat and lean his face close to me.

His eyes were sharp and his voice was deep, “You listen and you listen carefully,” He started, taking off the camera and putting it close to my face, “When you go home, I want you to print these pictures and copies of them. I want you to keep them and remember me. I want you to go to our next concert, meet me backstage, and give me the fucking copies so I can have a little souvenir, yea?” His voice was stern, almost similar to the voice he use onstage.

“Understand?”

“Y-yes..—”

“Louder!” He lightly slapped my cheek.

“Yes, James!”

And like that, the James Hetfield smirk returns to his face and he press a kiss onto my forehead, “Good girl.. Now c’mon, get dressed. I’ll find the boys for you.” He winked and stood up, picking his boxers and jeans up. I slowly sat up as well, sniffling and wiping my tears. I look down at the camera roll and find.. rather sinful pictures of me.

I’m never quitting my job.

#james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #metallica #james hetfield fanfiction #smut #james hetfield x you #metallica fanfiction #metallica x reader #metallica smut #fanfic

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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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an adorable bad boy | loveable!rogue!harry

This is part 1 of a Patreon series (all 10 parts have been posted on Patreon already). If you'd like more check out my Patreon! xoxo

A loveable rogue is someone who breaks the law for personal profit while being nice and charming, likely with a sad or dark past.

AU Premise: Harry has been in and out of jail for nearly a decade due to a string of bad luck and bad choices. But he's not a bad guy. Not really.

Summary: Harry's trying to keep on the straight and narrow now that he's out of jail but things have never come easy for him. And then he meets the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Maybe things won't be so bad after all. If only she'd give him her number.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: Mentions of drugs and the sale of drugs, mentions of jail time

❊❊❊

Harry’s life sucked. Every time he tried to get on the right track, his past would come back to haunt him. He took responsibility for the things he did and he knew he deserved to have the book thrown at him. But he also knew where he came from didn’t make things easier for him. Starting at a young age he had to act like an adult and do things most people would never imagine needing to do just to get by.

Now, nearing 30, he was determined to get his shit together. If he had to step foot in another jail cell again he was going to just end it. He couldn’t handle another sentence that had him losing a job, his car, the place he was staying… Every time he got into trouble it was like he had to start over again. From scratch.

And he was always well-behaved once behind bars so he usually got out early on good behavior. But keeping out of trouble as a free man was nearly impossible. He’d be tossed out on the street once he was released but with no place to go and not a dime to his name, times were hard. He had to hustle for a dollar. And when he meant hustle, it usually involved something illegal.

Getting a job that paid well was a joke. No one wanted a convicted felon. No one would hire a man who had a criminal record. Why risk it? He sure as hell wouldn’t if he were in their shoes.

There was no program to help him reintegrate. No help for a safe spot to sleep. Shelters wouldn’t even allow him a safe haven due to his past. He had nothing. Incarceration meant drudging through, keeping his head down, and following directions. That was easy. But there was nothing easy about rebuilding his life over and over again once he was out from behind bars.

His sister wouldn’t answer his calls anymore. He’d drained that well dry. His mother had cut him off too. His cousin was a last resort, but that’s sort of how his life was these days. Everything was a last resort.

“Harry! My dude! You get out?”

He was leaning against a tall residential building in an alley with a cigarette in hand. The phone he was using was the one that he had when he got locked up, kept for him upon his release. The officer helping him fill out his release forms allowed him to charge his phone before they pushed him out the doors. How kind.

The wifi signal from the bookstore gave him access to his apps so he could make the phone call he was dreading.

“Yep. Glad to be out of there. How are you doing?” He figured he’d make some small talk before getting to the point. He didn’t want to be rude, after all.

Saul gave him the rundown of what had been going on with everyone. And then Harry learned he was engaged.

“Wow. Congrats, cousin. Proud of you. You guys living together?”

“Nah. Not until after the wedding. She’s a really good girl. Super sweet. Her whole family is. Just like, the nicest people I’ve ever met. But she doesn’t want to move in until we’re married since that looks bad to her parents,” Saul laughed. “They’re super conservative about stuff like that. They think she’s still a virgin.”

Harry humored him with a chortle through the phone and then sighed. The sun was going down. Small talk needed to come to a halt. He had to get this part over with.

“So, uh… hate to ask this but um, could you let me crash at your place for a few nights? I’ve got nowhere to go since I just got out and gonna be cold tonight. Otherwise, I’d just sleep in the park or something.”

Silence for a few uncomfortable seconds.

“Did you ask your sister? I mean I’m sure–“

“She hates me right now. Won’t take my calls. But man, look, it’s okay if you can’t. I get it.”

“You know what? Sure. You can stay here for a bit. I know shit’s hard. How you gettin’ here?”

Harry let out the breath he’d been holding in and leaned his head back into the building in relief, “Gonna walk. Literally have nothing to my name. Just my old cell phone, half charged, and this free wifi I’m using to call you. I can get there in like an hour.”

Saul told him he’d pick him up but Harry didn’t want to trouble him anymore than he had. It was already embarrassing asking for help. Plus a walk through the city would feel good. It’d been a while since he’d seen the hustle and bustle of daily life in the city.

It was late September. He was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with boots. At least he had a beanie on his head. His cousin lived in one of those “up-and-coming” neighborhoods. Gritty but recently gentrified. His flat was two floors up. A flimsy plastic call button for the residents hung outside the reinforced glass door that opened up to a small lobby with mailboxes in the wall to the left and just beyond that, old wooden stairs that led up to each apartment.

Saul was on floor three. Harry took the stairs two at a time and the door was already open with his smiling cousin waiting for him and then a warm embrace that made Harry feel like maybe he was going to be okay. Silly as it sounded. He hadn’t been hugged in over a year. Hadn’t felt safe and relaxed in over a year.

“Ordered some pizza from this fire spot. Should be here soon. Beer?”

Harry could cry. He hadn’t had pizza or beer in over a year either. There was a lot he hadn’t had in over a year.

“Uh, yeah. Thank you, man.”

Harry followed Saul into his tiny galley kitchen and leaned against the frame of the door as he watched his cousin pull a beer from the fridge, “And thank you for everything. For this. I really mean it. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get a job.”

Handing Harry his beer Saul laughed, “We’ll see. Alyssa and I might need help for the wedding next summer. Her dad wants to have the wedding at their place. They’ve got this nice house with a massive garden in the back. But they need people to help landscape and do some manual labor to get it ready. Might save us a little money if you could help. But that’s a ways off,” he waved his hand as he walked past Harry into the living room. “Don’t worry about it right now. I’ll figure out a way you can pay me back.”

. . .

A few nights turned into a few weeks. And Harry did find a job, but he’d need to save up for a while longer to be able to afford a place on his own. He figured, at least he could pay Saul for food and help pay some of the bills in the meantime.

Fortunately, the job he found paid pretty well. Unfortunately, it was illegal. It was what had gotten him thrown in jail in the first place.

Selling drugs. Mainly weed. Some shrooms, ecstasy, molly… party drugs.

He applied to 28 places. Twenty. Eight. Dishwasher, food prep, janitor, midnight stocker, busboy, fast food line cook… everything he could find from places that might take a chance on someone with a record. After a week of having Harry sleeping on his couch, Saul appeared to be getting frustrated. So, Harry did what he always did when he needed money (and who doesn’t need money?). He called Memo.

Memo always had a spot for Harry. And because he trusted Harry he gave him an advance.

The first thing Harry did with his money was buy some clothes for himself and groceries for the house. Getting rid of his supply was easy. He still had all his old contacts to sell to and with Harry’s natural charm, he was introduced to even more people who wanted some killer weed and Harry was their man.

Saul seemed to lighten up a bit when Harry began paying him cash for his part of the bills and to help cover some of the rent.

Being a drug dealer bought him time. Eventually, he’d find a better gig. He knew there were places that would hire felons, he just had to be patient. But in the meantime, doing shady shit to get by was necessary.

“So, I’m going out tonight. With Alyssa and a few others. Just going to Ray’s. You can join us if you want.”

Harry was sitting on the couch readying himself for another night in but maybe going out with his cousin for a few beers could be fun, “Anyone I know going?”

Saul shook his head, “Doubt it. It’ll be Alyssa, her little sister, and a few of our mutual friends.”

Harry figured it was better if the people that were going to be there didn’t know him. And besides, what better way to spend a Friday night as a single man? Sitting at Saul’s house was fine, but going out and meeting new people with a few beers in hand sounded a hell of a lot better.

Harry nodded, “Why not?”

. . .

Roy’s might have been an old hole in the wall, but it was a popular old hole in the wall. Harry could hear the music before they walked into the black brick building with the lighted, vintage metal sign that hung above the door.

The smell of stale cigarettes and beer hung in the dark space, a shiny lacquered bar that ran half the length of the room, high-top tables, two pool tables, and a few booths.

Alyssa nearly pummeled Saul, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek as she squealed.

“We’re just over here! Tony got us a big booth 'cause he got here early.” She pulled Saul along with her. Harry followed.

The group that came into view were two young men and two young women. He barely had a chance to take it all in before Alyssa pulled his arm, “Everyone! This is Harry, Saul’s cousin. The one we were telling you about.”

The one we were telling you about. Harry knew what that meant.

Harry smiled and nodded as he slid into the booth. It was long and easily accommodated all seven of them.

“I’m Kelin,” the man he sat next to held his hand out to Harry to shake. The one next to Kelin greeted Harry, “I’m Tony,” he turned and looked at the girl next to him, “And this is my girlfriend, Dasha.” Dasha smiled and waved at Harry.

Then as Alyssa moved into the opposite side of the booth with Saul at the end she hugged the girl next to Dasha, “And this is my little sister, Y/n.”

Some moments in time are unexplainable. Like moments when things feel like fate but you don’t believe in that sort of thing. Or like when someone is speaking a language you don’t know but you swear you understood everything they just said. Sometimes it was more like a riddle you couldn’t figure out all day only to wake up in the middle of the night from a dream with the answer.

The moment Y/n set her pretty gaze upon Harry was like that for him. Something inexplicable. Something enchanting. Almost mythical.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Harry spoke as he tried to tear his eyes from the angel called Y/n. He forced his pupils away to look at everyone else but his heart was already beginning to thump violently in his chest.

Drinks were ordered and conversation resumed to wherever it was left off before Saul and Harry’s arrival.

“So, we were discussing anything but the wedding!” Dasha laughed as Alyssa moaned exaggeratedly.

“I was only letting you guys know the theme!” Alyssa laughed.

“Girl, tonight is a night off. And the wedding isn’t for like another 8 months!”

Harry tried to focus on the conversation as he sipped his beer but he couldn’t help allowing his eyes the indulgence of Y/n’s pretty face. She had some kind of clear drink. A vodka soda maybe. And when Kelin started talking about the Halloween party he was throwing Y/n’s eyes met Harry’s again and he thought he was going to fall limp to the floor in a puddle at her feet.

He didn’t even know what her voice sounded like and he was already imagining waking up next to her in the morning and getting to see her disheveled hair and warm pajamas and soft, tired eyes. He had never had such a visceral reaction to anyone before. Ever.

Another round of drinks made its way to the table and Harry hardly spoke a word. Y/n only laughed a few times at what was being said but otherwise, she remained quiet as she sipped her drink.

He needed to talk to her. He needed to learn all about her. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important, so vital to him. But every time she looked at him his throat went dry and he searched her face for any sign that she might be feeling the same odd connection that he was feeling.

“I need a cigarette,” Y/n spoke as she looked at Alyssa, making Saul and Alyssa scoot out of the booth to let her out.

Harry tapped his fingers on the table as he watched her walk past before speaking up, “Yeah, me too.” He hopped up from the booth and jogged to catch up with his dream girl before she could push the door open.

“Allow me,” he grabbed the handle and opened the door for her.

“What a gentleman. Thank you,” she grinned teasingly at him and Harry felt his head swirl and his knees go weak. She smiled at him and he was sure he was in love at that moment.

“I try,” he chuckled as he followed her to the edge of the building before she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. Harry liked the same brand.

He pulled out his lighter and held it out as she put the filter between her lips. The flame lit the tip and then Harry put his own cigarette into his mouth and lit it.

“You have good taste,” Y/n gestured with her cigarette toward his and watched his mouth as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs.

“Guess we both do,” he blew the smoke out and it mixed with the smoke she blew out at the same time.

“Heard you recently got out of jail. Alyssa told me to keep my distance,” she laughed as she took another puff, her eyes on his.

“Yeah. Trying to keep on the straight and narrow now. Jail sucks,” he let his gaze wander over her lips and jawline and down to her neck, “I’m not that bad, though. You gonna get in trouble with your big sister for having a smoke with me?”

She snorted (which Harry found adorable and irresistible) and shook her head, “I’m an adult. She tries to act protective and tough but she knows better than to tell me what I can and can’t do. In fact,” she took a drag and lowered her gaze to Harry’s outfit and then back up to his eyes before exhaling, “When she tells me not to do something it just makes me want to do it more.”

Harry felt his face grow warm as he listened to her speak and couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, dimples winking awake in his cheeks.

“Oh shit,” she leaned into the brick and crossed an arm over her middle, one arm angled out with the cigarette propped between her two fingers, “You’ve got dimples.”

Harry ashed his stick, keeping the smile on his face, “I guess I do. Is it okay?”

Y/n laughed softly, the prettiest sound Harry had ever heard, and nodded, “Of course it’s okay. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable…” Harry repeated as he leaned his shoulder into the brick and faced Y/n, “Think I’m adorable?” He pulled his lips into his mouth, tamping his wide smile as he blushed. Yeah, he was blushing.

She reached her hand up to his shoulder-length hair to tug at a curl, “You are. Pretty curls, green eyes, dimples. I get why Alyssa didn’t want me to get mixed up with you. An adorable bad boy. Dangerous combo.”

Harry shook his head and looked down at her feet before winding his pupils up her frame to her face, “Bad boy? Nah, not really. Just made some stupid decisions.”

Y/n shrugged and pulled at her cigarette before blowing out the hot smoke, “Mmm….” She pursed her lips and squinted at him, “You’re definitely a bad boy. You kind of emanate that persona. And I bet you use those dimples to charm all the ladies.”

Harry chuckled and looked down again to give his retinas a break from her breathtaking beauty. When he looked back at her he shook his head slowly, “If anything you’re the charmer. Making me blush over here.”

She giggled and leaned her head back as she looked up into the sky. Harry was not going to be getting over her laugh. He knew he’d be dreaming about it too.

“I’m just honest is all. Not particularly charming I don’t think.”

Harry shook his head and pointed at her, “No. You are definitely charming. Sweeping me right off my feet.”

“Oh, I am? Falling for me already, Harry?” She smirked at him and turned her body to face his, mimicking his stance.

Was it too soon for him to fall for her? Yes. But Harry was never one to play by usual timelines. He grinned and licked his lips, “Be bad if I said I was?”

She puffed out a laugh, “Probably would be bad. You don’t even know me. I’m really not all that great. Lots of issues. Very unstable,” she laughed as she gestured at her head and then wrapped her lips around the filter to inhale.

“If that’s the case, then you’re just that much cuter,” Harry parted his lips to place the cigarette between them as he kept his eyes on hers.

She bit her lip and turned to look out into the street, “You gonna go to the Halloween party next week?”

Harry shook his head, “Probably not. Wasn’t invited. Don’t like to dress up for shit like that anyway.”

“Hmm… If you go I’ll go,” she turned to look at him and raised her brows.

Harry stitched his brows together and tilted his head, “Are you serious?”

She nodded, “Sure. Why not. Wasn’t planning on going either but I will if you do.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and grinned, “Still wasn’t invited, though. We’ll see.”

Y/n tossed her butt down to the ground and stepped over the tip to crunch out the burning end, “Probably should get back in there. Alyssa’s gonna think we’ve run off together. That’d really get her going.”

Harry chuckled and followed suit with his own cigarette and nodded before following her back to the booth in the bar.

This time, as luck would have it, Harry scooted into his original spot and Y/n sat down next to him at the end.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke,” Alyssa frowned at Y/n and Harry leaned forward to put his elbows on the table as he turned to look at Y/n’s profile. She was certainly stunning.

Y/n shook her head and looked at Dasha, “Will you pass my drink down?”

Harry looked down at his lukewarm beer and pushed himself into the seat, his back hitting the vinyl cushion behind him before turning his head to watch as Y/n drank from her glass.

Everyone at the table resumed their conversation but both Harry and Y/n were thinking about the way their thighs were pressed together and how warm it felt. How nice it was.

“You’re staring,” she whispered with a grin as she set her glass down on the table and turned slightly to see the limn of his outline in her peripheral.

He grinned as he leaned his shoulder into hers as he spoke quietly, “Can’t help it.”

Harry tried to be as subtle as possible with everyone around but his skin was tingling in delight any time she shifted to pick up her glass her thigh ran against the stretch of his jeans. He regretted that he couldn’t stare into her beautiful eyes but he loved her nearness. The smell of her perfume and her shampoo.

“So, Harry,” Tony spoke up, “What do you do for fun?”

Harry was caught off guard. He’d been far too focused on the girl next to him that he nearly forgot he might need to participate in a conversation.

He laughed and looked at Saul and then to Tony, “I like music a lot. Um… reading. I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“He used to be in a band. Plays guitar and sings. He can play almost any instrument actually,“ Saul chimed in.

Harry rolled his eyes when everyone began to ask questions. He didn’t enjoy talking about himself because then that wound up leading to discussing his time in jail. Thankfully no one brought it up, though he was sure everyone already knew anyway. Saul wasn’t exactly discreet.

When the bill was paid after everyone threw down some cash, Y/n slid out of the booth with Harry right behind her, “Can I have your number?” He spoke so only she could hear as he brushed his fingers against hers.

She stopped and turned toward him, a mischievous grin on her face, “I’ll give you my number if you come to the party next weekend.”

Everyone began to walk to the door and Y/n turned to leave but Harry wasn’t done. He felt his heart walloping in his chest as he hastened his steps after her, pulling at her hand as stealthily as possible, “I can’t just crash a party I wasn’t invited to.”

When they stepped outside Y/n moved to the side to let everyone walk past and she looked up at Harry, “If you don’t come then you don’t get my number. It’s up to you.”

Harry swallowed as he looked down at the pretty girl in amazement, “Fine. I’ll be there.”

She smiled sweetly and raised her hand to poke at his dimple, “I know you will.”

NEXT PART (link goes to Patreon)

I hope you enjoyed part 1! This is the only part I'll be posting on Tumblr. If you want more check out my Patreon 💕

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 14- Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Summary: You and Javi celebrate your first Christmas together in Laredo

Word Count: 11.3K (could be worse?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), oral (f receiving), face sitting (awh hell yes), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/death (but it's sweet), children being assholes (I'm a teacher, I'm allowed to say it), our favorite idiots Carter and Miller making a brief appearance (I missed them), Javi being so sweet with kids (this does deserve a warning, I'm sorry) Javi being so kind, patient, thoughtful, amazing UGH he is too good for this earth 🥹😩

A/N: Thank you for your patience as I finally get this chapter done! Life has been absolutely crazy these past two weeks, so I'm hoping now that things have settled down, I can get back to working on chapters at a more regular schedule 🥴 If you're a Christmas girlie (gender neutral) like me, this chapter is for you, because even though it's only October, I really can't help myself (and like these two idiots celebrating Christmas together for the first time?! C'mon 🥺)

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“So you’re leaving early today to do arts and crafts? That’s a new one.” Agent Miller snickered, leaning over his desk to slap his partner, Agent Carter, in amusement as they watched their boss begin to organize his desk and pack up his briefcase, already rolling his eyes in annoyance at the grief he was about to get from his co-workers for his early departure.

“I’m not the one doing the arts and crafts. I’m just going into her class to help, you idiot.” Javi sighed, glaring at Miller as he finished sorting the rest of his paperwork piles.

Last week, you had asked Javi if he would be able to come into your classroom one afternoon when he wasn't busy, to help with the project you were planning for your students to give to their parents as a Christmas gift before they left for winter break. You had quickly realized that for the sake of your sanity, what you had planned was nowhere near a one man job, and because it was a surprise gift for their families, you didn’t want to ask any parents to come into help. Javi had happily accepted, even with your adamant warnings of the case of Christmas Crazies your class had with only days left before winter break.

“…. To help do arts and crafts. Just callin’ a spade a spade here, Peña. Does that mean we’re gonna start having craft time here, too?” Miller and Carter chuckled to themselves, smirking at Javi, now slinging his briefcase over his shoulder, making his way out of his office.

“Listen, Miller. Give Peña all the shit you want, but I would way rather be cutting and gluing shit and throwing fist fulls of glitter in the air than working on these fucking reports.” Carter huffed, waving the file folder Miller was supposed to be working on in his face before throwing it back down on his desk.

“Fair enough.”

“I wouldn’t trust you dumbasses with scissors and glue if my life depended on it.” Javi groaned, raising an eyebrow at the pair before picking up one of the finished reports off of Carter’s desk, using it to point at the two on his way out. “These better be done by the time I get back tomorrow.”

“But I’m gonna need extra time to decorate them for you, Peña!” Miller grinned, he and Carter playfully swatting at each other in hysterics, Javi flipping them off as he headed out the door.

After his mom passed, Javi would have never thought Alma Pierce Elementary School would be a place that would hold any more relevance to him, let alone be a place that he would frequent, now that his future wife worked there. He couldn’t help but smile as he pulled into the parking lot, thinking about the joy it would have brought Lucia to see that her years of having Javi help her with her own classroom were still going to good use with you. He also couldn’t help but smile to himself as he grabbed the coffee sitting in his cup holder he had picked up for you on the way over from the station, also knowing his mom would have had some choice words to say to him if he showed up empty handed to your classroom.

After checking in with the office, he made the now familiar route down to your classroom, weaving through the tiny bodies patterning down the hallway, screeching and squealing with what had to be uncontrollable Christmas excitement. He gently tapped at your door before opening it, a grin growing across your face as you looked up from your desk as you saw your fiancé with an extra large cup of coffee in his hands at the doorway.

“Oh my god, you brought me coffee? I owe you my life, you are the best. Thank you.” The sigh you let out felt like the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as you shot up to run over to Javi, giving him a big hug before snatching the cup out of his hands and taking a long swig of the caffeine you knew you were going to need to get you through the afternoon.

“I figured you could probably use it.” Javi chuckled, pressing a kiss into the top of your head before looking around, noticing that you were the only one in your room. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re at lunch, I was just about to leave to go pick them up. They’ve been absolute psychopaths today. I know it’s wrong to say I wanna drop kick a child out a window, but I’m real close.” You grumbled, taking another long sip of your coffee. “I don’t think I would have made it out alive today if you didn’t come in to help, so I apologize in advance for their behavior. I may or may not have told them that because you work for the police you keep track of what kids are well behaved or not to try and scare them a little.” You grimaced, knowing that the comment you had made earlier to your kids when you told them Javi was coming into help wasn’t the most ethical, but you were desperate for anything that would even remotely help control the chaos in your classroom with only 2 days left before winter break.

“Any kids in particular I need to be on the lookout for?” Javi asked, laughing to himself as you leaned over to set your coffee on your desk before heading towards the door to go pick up your class from the cafeteria.

“Oh… you’ll know them when you see them.”

You closed the door behind you, giving Javi a quick wink, leaving him alone in your classroom to wait for the arrival of the promised circus show that was your students. He wandered over to your desk, peeking through the piles of papers, sticky notes of to-do’s and drawings your students had given you. On the wall by your calendars, there was a photo of you and your family, 2 of you and Javi, and a note that he had written you one day and stuck in your lunch box, scribbled down in his rushed handwriting

Te amo mucho, hermosa. Have a great day.

-J

He thumbed gently at the wrinkled note, smiling to himself, still in awe of how the pieces of him seemed to follow you in everywhere you went. The sweet moment was quickly interrupted by the sounds of little voices bursting through the doorway, chattering away as they rushed to go sit on the carpet at the front of the room.

“Who’s that guy?!” A boy’s voice asked, pointing in Javi’s direction before balling up his body and doing a literal somersault across the carpet.

“It’s Mr. Peña! Do you not remember when our teacher told us before lunch that he was coming, dummy?” A girl’s voice responded, rolling her eyes at the boy, now laying face down on the floor. As more and more kids came over to the carpet, the more and more voices began to chime in.

“Don’t call him a dummy, Angela, that’s mean!”

“Well he is!”

“Why does that guy have a mustache?”

“My uncle has a mustache!”

“When are we going home?”

“Miguel tried to kick me in the nuts at recess!”

“I did not!”

You buried your hands in your face, letting out a deep sigh, shaking your head before looking back at Javi, quietly mouthing “I’m so sorry.” across the room before making your way to the front of the class.

“If you can hear me, clap once.”

3 or 4 half hearted claps followed over the chatter.

“If you can hear me, clap twice.”

More students began to join in, curious to see that Javi was now also following your directions.

“If you can hear me, put your hands on your head and turn off your voice.”

Finally, the volume of your room began to ease, all of your students, and Javi, quietly looking at you with their hands resting on top of their heads.

“Okay, 3rd graders. Right now, we are going to work on our holiday presents for our grownups we’ve been talking about all week. Remember how I told you this morning that we have someone special coming in to help today?” The class nodded, eyes glued on Javi. “This is Mr. Peña. Can you guys say hi?”

“Hi, Mr. Peña!” The class waved at him, Javi now smiling and waving back at them.

“Mr. Peña is taking time out of his day to come help us with our project, so we need to show him what a respectful, responsible and safe class we are, okay? If we can follow directions and everyone gets their project done, then we will have time for extra recess at the end of the day.” Javi snickered at the silent grins and high-fives on the carpet in hopes of bonus time outside. “Once you glue your picture on your plate to make your snowglobe, you can come see me to put the snowflakes inside, and then take it over to Mr. Peña and he’s going to hot glue it for you.”

A tiny hand quickly shot up, waving it back and forth. “No, Miguel. You cannot use the hot glue gun. It’s a grownup's only job.” You tried your best not to roll your eyes as Miguel frowned and put his hand back in his lap, knowing damn well he would be one to try and hot glue his hands together. “Do we have any questions before we start?” Almost all of your class’s hands shot up immediately, all beaming at Javi, frantically wiggling their arms in the air. You laughed to yourself, knowing that none of them had any questions about the project, and just wanted to talk to Javi. “Are these all just questions for Mr. Peña?” The class nodded, now squirming in their spots. “Okay, we can do 3 questions right now, and maybe if we have time at the end we can ask him some more questions. Is that okay, Mr. Peña?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” Javi smiled, trying his best to keep from smirking at you and your teacher voice that seemed to be having a much stronger effect on him than he had intended.

“Okay, Mr. Peña is going to pick 3 people who are sitting on their bottom and are waiting quietly and patiently for a turn.” You couldn’t help but smirk back at him as he stepped next to you on the front of the carpet, nervously running his thumb over his knuckles to prepare for his interrogation from 8 and 9 year olds. He pointed over to a girl at the back of the group, nodding to her to ask whatever was on her mind.

“So you’re marrying our teacher? Do you love her? Have you ever kissed her before?” The entire class erupted with giggles as Javi’s face went red with embarrassment.

“Uh, yeah. I love her a lot and that’s why we’re getting married.” Javi leaned over to whisper in your ear as the kids continued to snicker. “Am I allowed to answer the last part?”

“We’re not gonna talk about kissing at school, okay, Maya?” You laughed, giving Javi a little nudge as he pointed to the next student, picking a boy this time, in hopes that he wouldn’t have intense questions about his love life.

“Our teacher said that you work at the police station. Have you ever arrested anyone? Do you catch bad guys?” One of the boys asked, the rest of the class leaning in with intrigue. Javi rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, trying to maneuver another hard hitting question.

“Well I uh, I help train the guys who catch the bad guys, I don’t actually go out and catch them.”

“SO YOU DON’T THROW PEOPLE IN JAIL?!” Miguel shouted out, barely letting Javi answer his question.

“I’m gonna throw you in jail, Miguel…” you muttered under your breath, hiding your face behind Javi’s shoulder, the both of you trying to contain your laughter.

“No, I don’t. Uh okay, last one.” He pointed to another girl who had been patiently waiting with her hand raised the entire time Javi had been sharing.

“One time, my grandpa punched my dad in the face, and they kept punching and punching and so then my mom called the police, and then he had to go to jail and my Grandpa kept yelling you motherfu-.”

“OKAY, on that note we’re gonna start with our projects, everything is already on your desks. Come see me for snowflakes and Mr. Peña for gluing both pieces together.” Your eyes widened in horror, jumping in to try and cut her off before she could finish the rest of her thought. It had thankfully seemed like the rest of the class had been oblivious, racing back to their desks to work on their projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose before rubbing your fingers against your temples, trying not to wither away from the embarrassment your class had decided to subject you to with their questions for Javi.

“... I am so sorry.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked over at Javi, trying his best to keep from laughing at the antics your class was already up to before they had even started working on their project.

“Is this what it’s like every day?” Javi’s eyes widened as he looked out at the classroom, already overwhelmed by the noise and bodies moving everywhere.

“It’s normally not this bad, I swear I’m a good teacher. With it being 2 days before break, as long as everyone makes it home alive, I’m calling it a win. Thank you again for coming to help, Jav. You okay to man the hot glue station?”

“Of course, Osita.” He smiled, giving your hand a little squeeze.

“Miguel will legitimately try to glue his hands together, so just be… extra careful when he comes around.”

You couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi had agreed to help you with your project, because passing out confetti snowflakes alone was enough to make you lose your mind, let alone try and glue things together, too. Through the chaos, you and Javi found yourself exchanging quick glances, quietly laughing to yourself at the craziness. You couldn’t help but stare a little longer as you watched Javi your students, patiently helping each of them, listening to them share about who they were planning on giving their handmade gift to, complementing them on their work, and carefully monitoring to make sure no one (especially Miguel) got too close to the hot glue gun. You’d be lying if you said it ever got old watching how goddamn sweet he was with any kid he talked to, making your heartbeat a little faster at the thought of how much sweeter he’d be when it was one of your own.

By some miracle, everyone had finished with their gift before it was time for gym, glady sending them on their way to go burn off some excessive energy to help you through the last few hours of the day. Javi’s mom had clearly trained him well, coming back to find him helping to clean up the leftover mess from your crafts after dropping your class off.

“You don’t have to help clean up, Jav. You’ve already done more than enough.” You sighed, sitting yourself on top of the desk Javi was next to, reaching out to grab his hand.

“Osita. If this is what you do every fucking day all day long, the least I can help you do is clean up. Jesus Christ, this was fucking exhausting.”

“Well, I really threw you into the worst of it, so I apologize. Thank you again for helping. The kids really liked you. They kept asking the whole way to gym when you were going to come back. I told them when they stopped acting like a pack of wild monkeys, maybe you’ll consider.” You and Javi laughed, Javi gently resting his hand on your knee, thumb circling against your jeans.

“I’ll come back any time, Hermosa. Getting to watch my hot, future wife kick ass at her job is way better than having to harp on Carter and Miller to run the reports I ask them to every goddamn day. I’m more than happy to stay if you need more help, but I figured since I took the rest of the afternoon off, and I have a genuine appreciation for a fraction of how fucking hard your job is, I would go home and make whatever you want for dinner and finish up shit around the apartment so we can spend tonight doing whatever you want.” You smiled up at Javi, reaching your hand under his chin, pulling it closer to you to plant a quick kiss on his lips.

“Someone’s really trying to make sure they make their place on the Nice List before Christmas.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You deserve it all, Osita. It’s seriously the least I can do. Although, the things I wanna do to you later are definitely gonna end me up on the Naughty List.” He gripped his hand around the meat of your thigh, giving it a long squeeze as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, trying to use every ounce of self control to remember he was still at your work, let alone an elementary school where an 8 year old could come busting through the door at any moment.

“You’re such a fucking dork. You’re lucky I love you so much.” You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him. “Thank you, Jav. You really are the best. Can we do breakfast for dinner?”

“I had a feeling that was what you were gonna ask for.”

“Breakfast is the superior food at all hours of the day, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“Pancakes or waffles?”

“Surprise me.”

You pecked a quick kiss onto Javi’s cheek before sliding off the desk, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a hug, pressing your face into the fabric of his dress shirt, savoring the familiarity of his sweet and spicy cologne that had become the scent that smelled like home. “Alright, as much as I don’t want you to leave, I probably should be a good teacher and print the rest of the things I need and salvage a survival plan for the next two days before the gremlins get back.”

“I’ll see you at home, Hermosa. Love you”

“Love you too.”

With one last squeeze, and a wave as he headed out the door, Javi left you in your empty classroom, looking out at the disaster left in your student’s wake. Christmas couldn’t come fast enough.

Anything that you had planned for the afternoon had quickly gone out the window after your class had returned from gym, your plans for an extra long recess turning into an even longer recess, and part of a movie before sending the kids on their way home. Some way or another, you were able to drag yourself home, the promise of breakfast food keeping you afloat the entirety of your drive home.

As you walked down the hallway of your apartment, you could hear the quick pops and sizzles of the bacon Javi was cooking over the muffled Christmas music in the background. Turning your key in the lock on the doorknob, you pushed the door open, immediately dropping your school bag and kicking off your shoes, practically falling to the floor from exhaustion. Before you could even turn around to greet Javi, you felt his arms reaching under your legs and around your shoulders, making you squeal as he scooped you up, carrying you across the entry way towards the living room.

“Hi?” You laughed, looking up at Javi in confusion as to why you had barely made it 2 feet into your apartment before he was picking you up and carrying you away.

“Hi.” He smiled down at you, giving you a little shake in his grip.

“Can I ask why you’re carrying me? Am I not allowed to walk anymore?” You guestrued down at the ground, watching your legs dangle with each step Javi took.

“Because you work harder than anyone I know, and after today, if I’m fucking tired, you must be fucking exhausted, and my amazing, beautiful future wife deserves to relax.”

He paused, tilting his head down to give you a kiss before turning his body the opposite direction. You had been so focused on Javi as he carried you from the doorway, you hadn’t even realized what was set up in the living room until he had shifted his position, facing you towards it. You looked over to see a blanket fort built between the ends of the couch, TV paused and ready to watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”, and the Christmas tree the two of you had decorated together lit up and twinkling, casting warm shadows on the walls. “Pajamas are in there, so change, lay down and I’m bringing you breakfast while we watch the movie.”

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you looked out at the living room and back up at Javi. “Javi, you didn’t have to-”

“I know, I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to. I know how much you love Christmas and how we haven’t done much to celebrate since you’ve been busy with work, so I wanted to do something for you.” A grin grew across Javi’s face, watching your jaw hang open in shock as he set you down, letting you go over to examine his blanket creation. You stood there, shaking your head in disbelief, wondering to yourself how the hell you had gotten so lucky that someone cared enough about you to make you dinner after a long day, let alone plan something special for you, even if it was just in your living room. Before you could even respond, Javi was heading back to the kitchen to turn off the beeping timer of the oven, gesturing over to the fort. “I’ll be in there in a second.”

“Javi, you set this all up for me, at least let me help with dinner or-”

“Osita. Go put on pajamas and lay down. I swear to God, you’re the only person I’ve ever met that needs more convincing to go sit and relax than get up and do things.” He laughed, pointing at the covered couch, demanding you to get in. You held your hands up in defense before kneeling down to peek under the blankets Javi had draped over the top to see your comforter, all the pillows and blankets you owned, and your favorite sweatshirt and sweatpants of Javi’s folded neatly on top of everything. You quickly stood back up, unzipping and shuffling out of your jeans, trading them out for the sweatpants before stripping yourself of your shirt and bra, peeking around the corner to see Javi biting down on his bottom lip, eyes glued to you as you slipped his sweatshirt over your head.

“I should have known better than to think you would have put out clothes for me to change into for any other reason than your own selfish gain, Javier Peña.” You jabbed, Javi shrugging as he grabbed two plates of the breakfast that he had finished cooking, bringing them back over to you.

“Me? Wanting to watch you change on purpose, knowing damn well you were gonna take your bra off before you put my sweatshirt on? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita.” He smirked, a devilish grin growing across his face as he ducked into the fort, giving you a quick wink.

“You? Wanting to see my boobs? Yeah, you’re right, how silly of me.” You groaned, voice oozing with sarcasm as you followed him, snuggling yourself under a blanket as Javi handed a plate over to you. “In all seriousness, this is really sweet of you, Javi. Thank you. Didn’t picture you as a big blanket fort kind of guy.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge.

“I would make them all the time when I was little. Especially with my mom. I’d play with Hot Wheels in there, or my mom would read with me- I don’t know, maybe it’s from being with you at school today, and thinking about her, but I got home and thought you’d like it. You seem like someone who made their fair share of blanket forts as a kid.” Javi’s face beamed with a soft smile, the dimples of his cheeks creasing as he grinned over at you.

“That’s really sweet. She sounds like she was the best mom. That’s a lot sweeter than my memories of building forts. My brothers and I had a pretty much permanent one set up in the basement made from old hockey sticks, but it was referred to in our house as Pound Town. We would go in and beat the shit out of each other with pillows until it collapsed on us and we’d have to pause, try to build it again, and beat the shit out of each other with pillows as we argued about if we were building it right or not. My parents let it slide because we weren’t annoying them, until one day when Patrick and I got in a huge fight about which couch cushions to use and he took one of the hockey sticks and hit me in the face and gave me a black eye. Pound Town was no more after that.” You grimaced, taking a bite of one of the chocolate chip pancakes Javi had put on your plate.

“I’m pretty sure at this point, you could tell me that you and your brothers robbed a bank and I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“We were always well behaved during December, though. My parents definitely played into the threat of being on the naughty list as soon as Thanksgiving was over. At least they got a few weeks of peace each year. I honestly think that my parents were just as excited for Christmas movies as we were, because it at least gave them an hour and a half of semi-silence.” You laughed, nodding your head towards the TV.

“I’m gonna be honest, Osita. I don’t blame them.” You sighed, leaning your head against Javi’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with each small huff of laughter. “We don’t have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” either, I just know you said you liked it and we didn’t get to watch it yet.”

“No, this is a perfect pick. It’s one of my favorites. You wanna start it?” Reaching over for the remote, you smiled at Javi as he nodded, pressing play as the title credits began rolling across the screen. Javi had quickly come to learn that if you liked a movie, not only were you willing to watch it a million times, you knew just about every line, like you were putting on a one man production of whatever it was you were watching. Although you always quoted everything to yourself under your breath, something about it made Javi’s heart melt, spending more time looking over at you, whispering the lines of the movie to yourself, rather than watching whatever was on the screen. In between bites of breakfast, Javi watched your cheeks turn rosy as you watched a little George and Mary on the screen, eating ice cream at the drugstore, Mary leaning down to whisper in George’s ear. Javi had only seen the movie a handful of times, knowing it nowhere near as well as you, but well enough to know the line you mouthed to yourself wasn’t quite right.

“Javier Peña, I’ll love you ‘till the day I die.”

The two of you munched away at the rest of your breakfast dinner, Javi taking both of your empty plates back to the kitchen before nestling back under the blankets, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you laid your head against his chest. Now watching George and Mary throw stones through the windows of the old, abandoned house, making wishes of what they hoped their lives to be, you snuggled closer to Javi, draping your arm over his waist, twisting the ends of his t-shirt between your fingers.

“I can’t believe they’re actually gonna start building the house in a few weeks.” You looked up at Javi, beaming with excitement. After Javi’s proposal, both to be his wife and to build the two of you your dream home, you both had been working to draft up and finalize plans for construction to physically start happening. All of the design process had been smooth sailing so far, you and Javi easily agreeing on things you wanted for the house- layouts, designs, sizing- the only thing that was stopping you from moving forward with progress was deciding how many bedrooms the house was going to have.

“Not too late to tell Danny we need to add another bedroom.” Javi teased, gently squeezing your arm.

“I think 5 bedrooms is plenty, Mr. Ambitious. If we have more than 4 kids, we might as well add enough rooms to house a baseball team.”

“I’ll give you a football team’s worth of kids, if you want it.”

“I know you would, but you’re not the one who has to push a football team’s worth of kids out of you.” You laughed, playfully swatting at Javi before he wrapped his arm around the small of your back, flipping you so that your chest was caged with his, bodies laying pressed against each other.

“I’m happy with 1 kid or 10. Whatever you want, Osita, I’ll give it to you.” Javi smiled softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face before cupping your jaw in his palm, thumb delicately circling across your skin.

“What if I want you?” You whispered, stretching your head up to nibble at his chin, planting kisses along his face and neck, each one more desperate and hungry than the last.

“You have me, Hermosa. Forever.” He reached down, grabbing your left hand, carefully twisting the gold and diamond band around your finger in his. It wasn’t long before his hand had left yours, beginning to roam down your shoulders and back before slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants, grabbing handfuls of your ass as you pressed the weight of your hips further into his, feeling his bulge starting to grow underneath you. Working his hands back up around your hips, he pushed your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, slightly raising your lower half to help Javi strip them off your body, leaving your lower half exposed. Javi’s grip tightened around your thighs, suddenly locking his arms around them, scooting you closer to him, now sitting on his chest.

“Javi, what are you-” You protested, taking a second to realize what Javi was prompting you to do.

“Wanna take care of you, sweet girl.” He rasped, continuing to pull you closer towards him, now sitting on him near his collarbone, as he cut you off.

“Are you sure, Jav?” You asked, biting down on your lip, looking down at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his gaze, a devilish smirk stretching across his lips. “I’m always worried I’m gonna suffocate you when we do this.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? Baby, if I die between your thighs from you sitting on my face, I’ll die a fucking happy man. Please?”

“Okay, okay.” You nodded, letting out a little, breathy laugh as Javi tugged you one last time, your already dripping heat hovering over his face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced yourself on the edge of the couch, grasping at the cushions.

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You whined, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone.

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high. Your body went slack, draping your upper half over the edge of the couch as you felt Javi scoot out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gazed back up at you.

“Goddamn, Hermosa. Fucking soaked me. That feel good, pretty girl? You want more?” You nodded frantically at him, still at a loss for words as your chest heaved with each shaky breath. Gently grabbing your waist, he shifted you down so your back laid buried in the comforters and head rested against a pile of pillows, planting soft kisses down your body as he quickly pushed his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock, its tip already dripping with precum, staining the fabric of the pants and underwear it had been straining against. He reached down, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, already soaked with your slick from your last orgasm, before slowly pressing inside you, letting you savor every inch of his length buried deep inside you. His hips flushed against yours as he bottomed out, his fullness stretching you open with the sweet sting that had become one of your favorite feelings in the world. “Always so wet for me, Osita. Fuck, I can’t believe this perfect fucking pussy is mine forever. You’re mine forever.” He mewled, slowly pulling himself back before pressing deep inside you again, each stroke making you feel even fuller than the last.

“Forever.” You whispered back, your voice trembling as his cock pushed further into your cunt, practically hearing the lewd noises of wetness between the both of you as he thrusted in and out. Sitting back on his heels, Javi hooked his arms under your legs, pressing them to your chest, gently rubbing circles against your already throbbing clit before sinking back into you, the stretch of the new angle and added sensation of his fingers making you whine as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingernails digging into your back. “Fuck, Javi. You feel so big, fuck, it feels so good.”

“Fuck me.” Javi hissed, the rhythm of his hips hitting yours beginning to become more rapid and desperate as he watched you writhe under him. “You’re fucking perfect, Osita. Gonna be a perfect wife, a perfect mom, fuck- I can’t wait to marry you, live in our house- oh shit- Fill it with our kids. Fuck, te lo daré todo (I’ll give you everything).”

Everything was making your mind go blank- his words, his fingers rubbing against your clit, his cock pounding into you, over and over in the spot that had you seeing stars. The coil in your belly began to build as Javi buried his face in the nape of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy on your skin. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his length, your heart beating fast as your orgasm began to build with each push and pull out of your heat. “I know you’re close, baby. Give it to me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Gonna fuck myself so deep inside you, shit, can’t wait until I can fuck a baby into you, wish I could make myself stick, fucking get you pregnant right now.”

Just like that, something inside you snapped, your body tensing as you felt yourself squeeze around Javi’s dick, soaking him as your orgasm ripped through you. A string of expletives and his name fell from your mouth, your brain short circuiting from the overwhelming intensity, sobbing into his shoulder as you came. It wasn’t long until Javi was close behind you, rapidly chasing his own high as he pounded into your heat, dripping with your slick. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Meirda- so wet and tight for me. Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, holy- ahhhhhhh.” Javi gritted his teeth as he thrusted one last time, spilling deep in your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop as he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling in unison as you tried to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ…” You laughed to yourself under your breath, reaching up to run your hand through Javi’s curls, dark and damp as they stuck to his forehead. “Javi, if you keep saying shit like that when we fuck, I am gonna end up pregnant before we get married.”

“And that would be a bad thing because…” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss against your lips, feeling his grin on your mouth.

“Javi!” You giggled, rolling your eyes and playfully swatting at his bare chest as he hovered over you, gently twisting his fingers through the messy ends of your hair. “We have talked about this! Once we’re married and the house is all the way finished, then I’ll toss my birth control in the trash. But until then, you’re really making it work unpaid overtime, you menace. I hate to break it to you, but keeping your dick inside me isn’t gonna do anything for you right now.”

“Like you don’t like it.” He chuckled, the both of you letting out a little hiss at the loss of Javi being buried inside you, feeling the mixture of your spend drip down your thighs as he laid back down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you closer as you rested your head on his chest, hiking your leg up over his hip. “I’m just saying, Osita, Christmas is only a few days away, you could just throw it away early and-”

“JAVI!” You scolded him, giggling as he raised an eyebrow at you, giving a little shrug. “You will get plenty of other presents. That one’s gonna have to wait, as much as I don’t want to either. The house should be done right around the same time as the wedding anyways, so you won’t even have to wait that long.”

The two of you had very easily decided that you didn’t want a big wedding by any means, bringing Chucho endless amounts of joy when you had asked him if you could have your celebration at the Peña ranch. The thought was the first thing that came to both you and Javi’s minds- something small and simple, really only wanting your close friends and family to join you on your big day in a place that held such importance to the both of you. While you and Javi had agreed that you would have married each other tomorrow, you had compromised with the middle of June, giving you a few weeks after the school year had finished to let you have some time to prep or plan anything else that needed to happen, without the end of the year school stressors on top of it.

After working with Javi’s cousin, Danny, (who finally received your finalized floor plans a few days ago after finally compromising on your bedroom count), he was able to guess that given that the winter was normally less busy for him and his crew, he would also hopefully have the house done by mid to late June, planning to have the majority of the work completed after you came back from your Honeymoon, you and Javi offering to finish up any last touches that he wouldn’t be able to get to after you returned.

While the both of you had agreed that you would wait until you were married before your birth control prescription was canceled, never to be seen again, you managed to talk some sense into Javi, telling him the house needed to be finished before you started trying, God forbidding that something went wrong, leaving you who knows how pregnant in an unfinished house. Regardless, it hadn’t stopped Javi from the moment that ring went on your finger to play into just how badly he was ready to give you the family you deserved, making it very hard for the both of you to stick to your plan.

“I know, I know.” He sighed contently, picking your arm up, draping it over his chest so he could play with the ring on your finger, delicately thumbing at the stone and gold band. “Knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you is the only fucking Christmas present I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.”

“You’re really trying to make your way back onto the Nice List, huh?” You giggled, biting down on your lip as you reached up to grab Javi’s face, giving it a little shake. “You’re all I’ll ever need, too, Javi.” A cheeky smirk spread across your face as you looked up at Javi, pressing a hot kiss against the skin of his neck before you spoke. “I gotta shower and clean this mess up, you wanna come with me and hang out on the Naughty List just a little bit longer?”

“I’d take coal in my stocking any fucking day for you.”

Someway or another, you managed to make it through the last two days of school, bribing your class with more play time, recess, and movies than you’d like to admit. You and Javi were planning to spend the second half of your break with your family in Chicago, giving you two a few days to celebrate your first Christmas in Laredo together, now that you were on break. You had agreed to spend Christmas Eve celebrating with Chucho, the 3 of you gathering at the Peña ranch in the afternoon, offering to help Javi’s dad with chores around the farm since he had graciously given everyone else the day off to spend with their families. It took no convincing on your end to go out and help Javi feed the animals, one of your favorite chores on the farm, especially when it came to the cows.

“I can’t believe how big they are.” You cooed, scratching one of the not so baby cows you had met for the first time a few months ago along its nose, giggling as it gave you a little lick.

“They don’t stay little and cute for very long.” Javi chuckled, throwing the last bale of hay over the fence into one of the troughs, wiping his hands along his plaid shirt before resting his arm around your waist, standing next to you as you continued scratching and petting the rest of the cows that had gathered looking for attention.

“Excuse you? They are still incredibly cute! Apologize to these sweet babies!” You gasped dramatically, holding your hand over your chest as you swatted at Javi.

“Hermosa, they’re cows. They’re loud and annoying once they’re full grown, and last time I checked, I don’t think they can understand what I’m saying.” He laughed as you looked back at him with fake disgust, taking a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. Before you could argue back, one of the cows let out a long, loud mooooo, pointed in Javi’s direction, turning to look back at the cow before looking back at Javi.

“I think that’s cow for fuck you, I am cute.” You smirked, giving Javi a little shrug as you nodded back at the cow.

“Whatever, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at you as the two of you grabbed the rest of the feed buckets, heading back to the truck.

The two of you finished your rounds and you and Javi made your way back to the house to find Chucho humming away in the kitchen, chopping and dicing up vegetables to throw into his simmering pot of broth for the Pozole he had promised Javi for their Christmas Eve meal.

“Chucho, do you think that cows are cute?” You questioned, kicking off your shoes at the door, Javi following behind, shaking his head. Chucho chuckled to himself, wiping his hands along his worn apron before picking up his wooden spoon to stir his stew.

“Why are you asking?” He asked, looking over at you as you made your way into the kitchen, popping a leftover piece of pepper into your mouth, talking between chews.

“Because your son doesn’t think they are, and had the audacity to tell the cows to their face they were, in fact, not cute.” You glared over at Javi, trying to hold back your laughter as you pretend to be stern.

“They’re cute when they’re little but once you have to deal with them every day, full grown, they’re a pain in the ass.” Javi sighed, following behind you, sneaking between you and his dad to take down some bowls out of the cabinet, setting them on the table.

“That is because Javier never pays attention when he walks through the pasture, and always ends up with a boot full of cow shit. I think they are cute, Mija. Not as cute as some other animals, or as cute as human babies…” He paused, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, smirking. “But yes, still cute.”

“Told you so. You can’t blame the cows for your shit shoes, that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled, hitting him in the chest before grabbing spoons and napkins to set down next to the bowls Javi had placed. “Do you need help with anything else, Chucho? It smells delicious, I’m glad your cow bashing son requested it tonight.”

“Cabrón (asshole).” Javi groaned. “Mamá would always make pozole and tamales for everyone on Christmas eve. She would put all of the cousins to work kneading the dough and assembling the tamales. She would hold the piñata hostage until we helped her finish, which I can’t blame her for. Her tamales were delicious, but I always think about having her pozole and eating a shit load of candy before crashing on the couch trying to stay up, waiting for Santa when I think about Christmas.”

“Before Lucia died, every year we would host our whole family here for Christmas eve. Dios Mio, there must have been 30 crammed in here each year, singing and dancing, making more tamales than anyone could count. No matter how hard he tried, Javier would always be the first to fall asleep on the couch, and we would have to carry him to bed. I think he would get so excited he would wear himself out.” Chucho smiled, turning off the stove, bringing the pot of the pozole to the kitchen table, the two of you pulling out a chair to take a seat.

“She sounds like she was such a fun lady. I wish I could have met her. And eaten her tamales, because I bet that they were amazing.” You beamed, looking over at Chucho and Javi, Javi now settling into the seat next to you, draping his arm over the back of your chair as Chucho stayed standing, letting out a content sigh as he placed a hand on his hip.

“Well Mija, I was planning on giving your Christmas gift to you later, but now that you bring it up, now seems as good a time as any.” Chucho smirked, waddling his way over to the living room, as you and Javi glanced at each other in confusion, waiting for his return. A few moments later, Chucho was back, carrying a small, red package with a white ribbon wrapped around it, outstretching it towards you.

“Chucho, you didn’t have to get me anything, I-” You protested, not accepting the gift until Chucho was sliding it across the table, placing it right in front of you.

“It is a gift for both of you. I know that Lucia would have been so thrilled to know how happy you have made our Javier. How happy you have made both of our lives. She would have loved you so dearly, hija, and would have wanted you to have these as you and Javier start your own family.” Tears welled behind Chucho’s eyes as you carefully took the package in your hands, resting it between you and Javi as the both of you gently ripping away the wrapping paper and bow to reveal what was inside Chucho’s gift. You held a small, leather bound book between you two, Chucho gesturing to have you open it to see what was inside. As you flipped back the cover, you revealed the first page, a picture of a young Lucia in the very same kitchen the 3 of you found yourself in, smiling at the camera as she stirred a pot of something on the stove, apron tied around her waist. Below the photo were bold, shaky cursive letters, reading “Lucia’s Recipes.”

“Pops…” Javi whispered in shock, delicately touching the page, gazing up at his dad.

“Your mamá would have wanted you to have all of them. She always told me that she couldn’t wait for the day she could have a daughter to share all of her cooking secrets with. She would have been even more excited to share them with you Mija, knowing the wonderful woman that you are.”

Carefully turning the page, you could feel your lip quiver as you looked at Chucho, feeling how watery your eyes were now becoming. “Chucho, this is- I don’t- thank you, Chucho. This is so special. I’m honored you want them to share them, I- I know how important these are to your family.”

“You are family, hija.” Handing the book off to Javi, you pushed up out of your chair, making your way over to Chucho to wrap him in a tight hug, Chucho quickly reciprocating, squeezing you back.

“Thank you, Chucho.” You whispered into his shoulder, trying your best to keep from sobbing as Javi pushed out of his chair, joining the both of you in a group hug, holding the two people he loved most in the world in his broad grasp.

“Thanks, Pops.”

“Los amo a los dos (I love you both).” Chucho sniffed, pulling away to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Now, let’s eat this pozole, I can hear Lucia yelling at me for letting it start to go cold.”

The 3 of you spent the rest of your night full of pozole, Javi finishing off at least 3 bowls as you talked at the kitchen table, sharing stories of your favorite holiday traditions and memories. Chucho broke out at least 4 different photo albums to share photos of Christmases past, filled with lots of ones of an adorable Javi and his bright, toothy grin as he opened up presents. Chucho was thrilled with the present you and Javi had gotten for him- a new work jacket for out on the ranch, Javi noting that he probably was still wearing the same jacket he did when Javi was first born.

You and Javi had insisted that you let Chucho help you clean up around the kitchen after making you dinner, practically having to force him to sit down in his chair to relax while the two of you got to work collecting and cleaning dishes in the sink. You got to work washing as Javi dried, taking time to turn on the radio in the kitchen, raising the volume as he tuned in to the local station that had been playing nothing but Christmas music for the past week. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” began playing from the speakers, immediately beginning to sing along, swaying your hips, scrubbing the last of the pots and pans. Javi snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as his chest pressed against your back.

“Dance with me.” He whispered, placing his hands on your hips to spin you around, making you giggle as your sponge splashed in the sink, playfully drying your wet hands against his flannel before interlacing one of your hands with his, the other one resting on his shoulder as he wrapped his free hand around the small of your back. The two of you gently swayed in the dim light of the kitchen, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra’s voice humming in the background.

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more.

As the sweet and syrupy melody of the song played on, Javi held up his hand, prompting you to spin under his outstretched arm before pulling you back in, resting his hand on your back, the other holding your face as he dipped you down, his lips curled in a tender grin against yours as he leaned in to kiss you.

Through the years, we all will be together, if the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

“I love you, Osita.”

“I love you more, you dork.”

You rested your head on his chest, smiling into the worn fabric of his button up, soaking up the sweet simplicity of the moment- how right then and there, it felt like there was no one in the world but the two of you, slow dancing in Chucho’s kitchen, arms wrapped tight around the man you loved. It felt like holding everything you’d ever need. Everything you’d ever want. It felt like holding your home.

If there was one thing you were not, it was patient, especially when it came to waiting. You never had been, and at this point in your life, you were very much convinced you never would be. Ever since you could remember, you were always the first one up in your house on Christmas, frantically waking up your parents and brothers to let them know presents were stacked under the tree at an ungodly hour, forcing your parents to implement the “If you don’t stay in your bed until 6 A.M. you won’t get any of your presents” rule to try and save some ounce of their sanity for the chaos that ensued after the 4 of you were really wide awake. Even as an adult, you couldn’t help but wake up giddy on Christmas, feeling as bright eyed and bushy tailed as you did all those years ago as a kid. While Javi was very aware of your love for Christmas, he wasn’t aware of the fact that it meant that you would be wide awake, waiting for him to wake up this early in the morning.

“Merry Christmas!” You squealed, trying your best to contain your excitement as you watched Javi finally begin to stir, his sleepy curls peeking out from under the covers, eyes squinting and blinking heavily as he let out a big yawn, draping his arm over your waist, half awake.

“Good morning.” He grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, practically still asleep. “What time is it?”

“6:45…” You replied, grimacing sheepishly, wincing at the early hours plastered on your alarm clock. “You can go back to sleep if you want to, sorry if I woke you up.”

“6:45? Jesus, how long have you already been up for, Osita?” He sighed, propping himself up on his elbows, running his hands through the messy ends of his hair.

“Not that long…” You muttered, looking away from him, hoping it would deter him interrogating further. Javi said nothing- he only cocked his head to the side and stared with that look he gave you when he knew you were hiding something, knowing damn well his tired, puppy dog eyes would pull the truth out of you. “Fine…” You huffed, turning back to him. “I’ve been up since 6.”

“6 in the morning? Jesus Christ, hermosa.” Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lay against his bare chest. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. What the hell have you been doing since you got up?”

“I made coffee, took a giant shit after I drank the coffee, turned on the lights to the Christmas tree, put Christmas music on in the living room, and then I came back to bed and I’ve been trying to read while I was waiting for you to wake up.”

Javi could do nothing but let out an amused sigh as he pressed a long kiss into the top of your head. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“You’re the one who proposed.” You sassed back, holding your ring in Javi’s face, a playful smirk growing across your face before giving him a little poke on his chest. His response to your witty remark was grabbing you by the waist, flipping you on top of him as he tickled your sides, pecking quick kisses along your body, making you flail and squirm as you erupted with giggles. “Let go, pendejo! You’re gonna end up with a black eye for Christmas if you don’t stop!”

“I’d like to see you try.” He grinned, releasing you from his grasp, giving you a little shove. “Alright, well I’m fucking awake now.” Reaching his arms over his head, Javi let out another loud yawn.

“I made you coffee.” You shrugged, trying to provide at least a little peace offering to him for your early morning wake up.

“I’d fucking hope so.” The two of you laughed as you shuffled out of bed, Javi lazily throwing on a t-shirt and pajama pants before you both wandered out of the bedroom, you at a much quicker pace than Javi.

As much as Javi wanted to give you a hard time about your over exaggerated enthusiasm this early in the morning, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter as he walked into the living room, seeing you sit curled up on the couch, clutching a mug of coffee, beaming at Javi as Christmas music played softly in the background, the walls dimly lit by the twinkling lights of tree, being hit with the realization that every Christmas for the rest of his life, would be a Christmas spent with you.

“For you.” You smiled, holding out Javi’s mug, steam dancing off the top of the bitter brown liquid. “My family always opened presents before we did anything else, but if you have something else that your family always did, or you don’t want to, we can-”

“Osita, I know you wanna open presents first, it’s okay.” Javi snickered, kissing your forehead before you shot up off the couch, running over to the tree to grab one of the several neatly wrapped boxes stacked beneath it.

“Okay, thank God, I think I would have spontaneously combusted if I had to wait any longer to give you your gifts.” Hurrying back over to the couch, you placed your boxes on Javi’s lap, snuggling back up next to him as he began to tear away at the wrapping paper of the smallest package.

“You don’t have any photos on your desk, so I figured I’d get you one. That way you can stare at my ugly mug all day long.” You joked, nodding toward the picture frame Javi was holding with a picture from your cousin’s wedding a few months back.

“Shut up. Thank you, I do need more pictures of us in my office, and you look so hot in this picture.” He smirked, giving you a little nudge before picking up the next gift in your pile. “Thank you, Osita.”

“Says the one who’s in the fucking tuxedo in that photo.” You rolled your eyes, watching Javi shake the wrapping paper off the next box.

“Fuck, I’ve been needing new boots. Thank you, Osita, these are so nice.” Javi grinned, holding up the dark leather shoes, letting the bottom of the box drop to the floor.

“I know you have, and you refuse to buy yourself new ones, so I figured I’d upgrade them for you.” You crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, wondering how he’d ever convince himself that he wasn’t just as stubborn as you.

“Jesus, this is heavy.” He laughed, working away at the wrapping to reveal a plain, cardboard box, giving you a confused look.

“It didn’t come in a box and I couldn’t wrap it how it was. I promise you your first gift isn’t a heavy cardboard box.” The two of you laughed as Javi tore the tape holding the top together, digging through the tissue paper, eyes going wide at the contents of the box.

“Osita…” He warned, pulling out the bottle of his favorite Texas branded whisky he would only order for himself on nice occasions, knowing 1- how hard it was to find, and 2- that it was not cheap.

“Don’t even try to start with me. It’s Christmas and I love you and you deserve all the nicest things in the world. I know how much you love this stuff, even though it tastes like pure gasoline, and that you would never buy it for yourself.” You smirked, grabbing under his chin, squeezing his cheeks.

“Thank you, Osita. Where the hell did you find this stuff?” Javi looked at the bottle in disbelief, examining it before setting it carefully back on the ground.

“Steve knew a guy.” You shrugged, only pausing for a moment before pushing yourself off the cushions, only to be stopped by Javi’s grasp around your wrist, pulling you back down.

“These are all perfect, baby. Thank you so much. You're too good tot me. My turn.” Javi grinned, grunting as he got up off the couch, looking through the boxes to find the one he wanted, snatching it up and handing it over to you, immediately beginning to shed the box of its paper. “If you don’t- if you don’t like it or don’t want it, that’s okay, but I figured-”

“Javi, I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll love it.” Taking a pause from your unwrapping, you reached over to give Javi’s knee a squeeze, smiling at him before shuffling the lid off the top of the long box. “Oh no way! Are you serious?!” You squealed, holding up the emerald green and black Dallas Stars hockey jersey. “Javi, what the fuck, this is so cool! Thank you!” You dropped the jersey in your lap, leaning over to give him a tight hug.

“Thank god, I was worried you were gonna be pissed it wasn’t a Blackhawks jersey, but I think you already have 2 here, and like 3 more at your parents house, so I figured, you might like one for the Stars, too.” Javi sighed, relieved that his gift wasn’t about to stir up any unwanted hockey tensions.

“I will wear it every game, except for when we play the Blackhawks- Then I will bury it deep in the closet.” You giggled, picking it back up to stare at it, oblivious to the fact that Javi had already gotten up again to get you another gift.

“These two go together.” He smiled, handing you over the much smaller box as you tilted your head in confusion. You quickly unwrapped the second box, a smaller version of the box for your jersey you had just opened. Still unsure of how something so tiny could go with your new jersey, you suspiciously lifted up the lid, your jaw dropping as you saw what was inside. “Holy fuck, Javi, are you serious?!” You gasped, pulling two tickets to the Dallas Stars vs. Chicago Blackhawks game, clutching them like you couldn’t believe they were real. Taking a second to actually read the ticket, your mouth gaped even further. “Jav, holy shit, these seats are-”

“Against the glass.” Javi smirked, watching your eyes dart back and forth between the tickets and his smug grin.

“But what about- how are we, wait- wouldn’t we have to-“ you mumbled to yourself, trying to process the gift while figuring out the logistics of getting to and from a night game in Dallas from Laredo.

“I’ve got it all taken care of. The game is on Friday in February, the other 3rd grade teachers said they would do whatever to help you take that Friday off, our flight leaves at 2, we land in Dallas at 3:30, and I have a hotel booked for Friday and Saturday. Figured we could make a weekend of it.”

“Javi- You can’t- Javi this is too much- baby, are you serious?” You whispered, breath shaky as you looked up at his beaming face, leaning in to kiss you.

“I can, and I will. You deserve it. Merry Christmas, Osita. There’s one more thing.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, grabbing one last present from under the tree and setting it in your lap.

“Javier Peña, you do not need to get me anything else, I swear to God-” You protested, giving Javi a stern look as you stared at the present in your lap.

“It’s not anything big, I saw it when I got the jersey and couldn’t help myself. Just open it, please?” He sighed, picking it up and bringing it even closer to you.

“Okay, okay.” You shook your head, quickly tearing away the wrapping paper to reveal the box underneath. Lifting the lid, you dramatically rolled your eyes at Javi as you lifted up the red, lacy, lingerie that was tucked away in the tissue paper it had been delicately folded under. “This looks a lot more like a gift for you than a gift for me, Mr. Peña.” You laughed, giving Javi a playful nudge.

“Well, if you put it on and let me unwrap you like the pretty little present you are, I’m sure I can find a way to make it a gift for the both of us.” Javi rasped, leaning over to nip at the exposed skin of your neck, making you let out a breathy moan, before coming to your senses, immediately darting up off the couch towards your bedroom.

“Where the hell are you going?” Javi asked, laughing at you as you sped off, lingerie in your hands.

“Changing so you can unwrap your last present!” You winked, wiggling the lacy outfit in the air before ducking into the bedroom. “Hey!” You shouted, your voice slightly muffled from behind the bedroom door, creaking it open to pop your head back out.

“What, hermosa?” Javi laughed, awestruck smile glowing across his face as he stared at you.

“I love you, Javier Peña. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Osita. I love you more.”

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