#the theme this year is Angst i guess if that gives you some warning about how these are going to go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randomdragonfires · 14 days

Text

Moon Song | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | He killed Lucerys, but Aemond sees the ghost of his nephew wherever he goes - especially in his sweet wife's eyes.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; ANGST; Delusions; Incest; Dark Themes; Kinslaying; DD;DNE!

WORD COUNT | 6.6k

A/N | Originally written as a birthday gift for @humanpurposes. Nothing says happy birthday like a dark fic about madness and murder I guess? :)

RAIN-SOAKED AND WEARY, AEMOND TRUDGES THROUGH the murky streets of King's Landing, his cold and damp riding leathers offering no respite. Each step echoes with the haunting images of Vhagar's reckless attack on Luke, the small, agonizing details etched into his mind like a deep carving. The city, shrouded in an eerie mist, seems to mourn his nephew in silent empathy.

A scared face. The cracking of jaws. The sight of Arrax’s wing flapping aimlessly down into the sea. Luke, falling free through the skies…

The Red Keep looms ahead, its imposing towers piercing the darkened sky. Aemond ascends the ancient stone steps in silence, his solitude a curtain shrouding the tempest raging within him. The guards watch him cautiously, sensing the palpable storm that accompanies the one-eyed Prince’s return. As he passes, the torches on the wall flicker, casting grotesque shadows that dance along the corridor walls.

Entering the shared chambers, Aemond's presence goes unnoticed at first. His wife awaits him, her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and anticipation as she sits at the edge of the bed, finding his gaze and immediately making note of his distress. He can feel her scrutiny, her eyes seeking answers he isn't ready to give. With how disappointed she may be, he is not sure that he’ll ever want her to know. But he knows she must, and that he’d rather it come from him than anyone else.

Words remain unspoken as Aemond, drenched and disheveled, closes the distance between them. She hasn’t moved, holding onto him by the waist as he encloses his cold hands onto the back of her head, finding some semblance of comfort in the warmth of her hair. His wife's face softened, ready to welcome him, oblivious to his guilt and agony. In the silence that hung thick in the air, he braced himself for the storm about to engulf their world.

“You’re cold, Aemond. Let me find you something warm to wear,” she says. He doesn’t let her leave him; he will not let her leave him, ever. In heavy times like these, he’s always quite liked having her to hold - and right now, it seems like she understands it just as well as she always does. She is a part of him, made to be by his side.

She’s my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else’s!

He remembers the words. It was the night he had come to, after his eye had been slashed out. The marriage pact had been brokered in the aftermath, a compensation for the losses suffered. His nephew's tantrum and those venomous words had sown the seeds of a bitter possession, one that manifested in the subtle manipulative gestures that followed.

He had reveled in taunting Luke, relishing in the knowledge that he had triumphed over his nephew in more ways than one. Aemond had married his niece, a Princess of Targaryen blood, a strategic move with which he had alleviated the stain of bastardy off of her. He’d spend years taunting Luke over his wins, and he’d finally taken his life too. And now, his wife was about to cast him aside for it.

As he confessed to his wife, his eye, haunted by the accident, bore into hers, seeking understanding, pleading for empathy. The air grew dense, the chasm between them widening like an insurmountable abyss, a reflection of the irreversible consequences that now consumed them.

I need you to believe me.

In the flicker of candlelight, hope clung to Aemond like a shadow, a desperate desire for his wife to see beyond the tragedy. Yet, her features twisted in disbelief, mirroring the horror within him. He had not expected any less, but to see it happen is like a dagger twisting in his heart.

He’s losing her. He cannot lose her. As she tries to draw away, he lets desperation take over him. He would be damned if he let her slip away over something that he did not mean to happen.

His grip on her tightens to the point of choking, her eyes widening as she realizes that she is trapped. Not just in his hold, but in this marriage with a man that would stop at nothing, and is not even above killing family to survive. How long before he kills me too, she probably thinks.

He longs to assure her that he wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, but she is angry. She does not want to hear from him, so he will settle for her forced presence for now. Surely she’ll see. He cannot bear for her to look scared and fearful - she looks too much like her twin when she does. The last thing Aemond needs is to be reminded of him.

Her sobs soak through his already damp clothes. She tries to push him away, but he is like a never-ending nightmare - the more she tries, the tighter his hold becomes, refusing to give her the solitude she craves. He wants to, he is simply scared - what if she never chooses to welcome him again?

Why?

His touch, once a source of comfort, now repulses her, but he remains oblivious to her inner turmoil. In the midst of her agony, he lowers her gently onto the bed, attempting to offer solace through caresses and kisses, unaware that his touch has become a reminder, a brand of her brother's murderer. She refuses to believe that it was an accident, and he is further pained at the dark realization that he may not be above killing her if she tries to betray and leave him over this. After all, if he cannot have her, no one else will.

"Stay with me, wife. Stay with me, and you will be kept alive and safe.” Try to leave me, and you will not live to see the next sunrise.

The unspoken threat hangs in the air, a chilling promise that holds its own through his silence and her sobs. She closes her eyes, her unease palpable, a fear of the man she shares her bed and heart with. Aemond, too, watches her drift away, inch by agonizing inch, knowing he will have to learn to endure. He’ll have to, if her place is by Aemond’s side - and the day he married her, he’d solidified that.

What he won’t quite get used to is realizing how much like Luke she looks in fear, and how her eyes make it seem as though he is boring into his nephew’s instead. The resemblance unnerves him as he is taken back to the skies of Storm’s End in his mind once again - Luke had looked just as fearful for his life in his last moments. She is a reminder of what he’s done, of the half of her who is now lost.

How could he have expected that his own living, breathing wife would haunt him so?

THE LIBRARY IS CLOAKED IN A HUSHED DARKNESS as Aemond buries himself in his book, the words flying over his head as he tries to comprehend them. The oppressive silence of the night presses upon him, mirroring the strain in his heart. His worry for his wife weighs heavily on his mind, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. She has withdrawn from him, choosing silence over conversation, and the void between them grows deeper with each passing day.

In dreams, Luke sits atop his fledgling dragon, looking at him with a somber expression that makes him appear at peace. They are in the skies of Storm’s End again, only this time, neither of them is involved in a chase. They face each other, and each time, Luke talks, and Aemond seems to have no choice but to listen.

This did not have to happen, uncle, he would say. You could have let me live.

Every time, he wakes and resists the urge to slam his fists and pull his spun silver hair out as he wills the fragments of Lucerys to leave him be. He had initially blamed the shock, but even as he gains his bearings, the visions, dreams, and voices only seem to become louder, stronger, and sharper. It would seem that the more desensitized and ready to face war he becomes, the more his nephew insists on haunting him - reminding him that he is no war god, but simply a boy forced to grow into a man too soon.

This did not have to happen, uncle. You made a terrible mistake.

“Leave me in peace bastard, be gone!” He would scream as he slams his fist into the table and sends parchment flying.

Aemond's torment continues unabated, the ghost of Luke lingering in every corner of his life, a silent spirit that refuses to be exorcized. Late at night, as Aemond lies in bed, he catches glimpses of Luke's face in the shadows that dance on the walls, his eyes hauntingly fixed upon him. The weight of his gaze bears down on Aemond's soul, making sleep an elusive and tormenting escape.

In the courtyard, where the echoes of laughter resound, Aemond finds himself frozen in place, the air heavy with Luke's presence. The wind carries whispers that seem to be the soft murmur of Luke's voice, leaving Aemond questioning his sanity. He can almost feel Luke's hand on his shoulder, a touch that sends shivers down his spine and leaves him grasping at the emptiness.

During war strategy sessions, Aemond's mind plays cruel tricks on him. As he pores over maps of wargrounds and fortified keeps, Luke's reflection materializes beside him, scrutinizing terrains with an otherworldly knowledge. Aemond's fingers tremble as he traces the borders, half-expecting Luke to offer his uninvited and foolish insights, but the silence remains.

In the Great Hall, where feasts were once lively celebrations, Aemond finds himself unable to escape the ghostly presence. The sound of revelry - that Aegon insists upon as they celebrate Luke’s death - becomes a haunting cacophony, and he can almost hear Luke's laughter intermingling with the echoes of those who celebrate his demise. Aemond often finds himself raising his goblet in a futile toast, the wine swirling like a macabre dance, mirroring the torment within him.

Even in the solace of nature, where one would hope to find peace, Aemond can't escape the ghostly reminders. Trees cast shadows that resemble Luke's silhouette as Aemond and Vhagar fly overhead, and the chilly air seems to whisper secrets that he strains to understand.

As he closes the book, a phantom chill creeps into the room. A sense of unease claws at him as he tries to erase the recollections from mind, as though doing so would remove the occurrences altogether. The chilly night air outside intensifies, causing the candle flame to dance wildly before it sputters and extinguishes with a subtle hiss. Aemond dismisses the notion, attributing it to a mere draft, and turns away from the now darkened candle.

As he turns, his reflection in the ornate mirror catches his eye, but instead of his own weary countenance, the mirror unveils the ghostly image of Luke. Aemond's breath catches in his throat as he stares into the haunted eyes of his nephew. The dim light casts an eerie glow on his ethereal almost-figure, and the air in the library seems charged with an otherworldly energy. The weight of guilt and the eerie manifestations converged, leaving Aemond paralyzed in the haunting stillness of the library, caught between the realms of the living and the departed.

"This did not have to happen, uncle," Luke's voice carries a weight of unspoken sorrow, each word etched with the regret of an untimely departure. The ghostly echoes linger in the air, weaving through the ancient shelves of books that stand as silent witnesses to this mad exchange.

Aemond - his breath catching in his throat - struggles to find the right response. The weight of guilt presses upon him as he gazes into Luke, dazed. The regret, palpable and suffocating, threatens to consume him. Luke lingers, a reminder of all his irreversible choices. Caught in the grip of the moment, Aemond feels a lump forming in his throat. "I never wanted it to end this way," he whispers, his voice tinged with regret that he would never have admitted to feeling if he hadn't had to voice it out loud.

"You made a terrible mistake," Luke's voice echoes, the accusatory tone cutting through the oppressive silence of the library.

Aemond's eye meets the hollow gaze of his nephew. "I am aware, and I am burdened by it… by you." He confesses, the weight of guilt hanging heavily upon him. Memories of happier days in his marriage pass his mind, and he is once again left with the gnawing pain of not knowing if she will ever seek him out again. Is he going to be made to live with this chasm between them forever? How could she live without him?

And immediately, as thoughts of his sweet wife cross his mind, the image of Luke transforms into when he was much younger, his curls a lot more prominent and his face a bit more round. He says the words again, the same words that Aemond had heard him say about his marriage - and it is all he can do to not fall apart. "She's my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else's!" Luke's words resonated in the stillness, each repetition intensifying the haunting atmosphere.

The air crackles with unresolved tension as the words loop, a haunting refrain that refuses to fade. Each spoken phrase intertwines with the musty scent of ancient books, filling the room with a lingering sense of melancholy. As the words pass through the room, the library stands witness to the unfolding chaos. Dust motes, disturbed by the weight of the conversation, hang suspended in the air like transient memories. The ambient firelight, filtered through the stained glass windows, casts a surreal glow on the troubled face of a man who desperately tries to escape the consequences of his actions. The words create ripples in the stillness of the library, a transient disturbance.

His fists clench, and with a roar of frustration, he lashes out at the mirror. The impact shatters the haunting reflection, the fractured pieces falling like a cascade of broken memories. Aemond, panting and wild-eyed, stares at the shattered remnants of the mirror as drops of his blood stain them all an angry, bloody red.

ON A DARK, EERIE MORNING, Aemond decides he will seek refuge in combat training with Cole. The rhythmic clash of steel on steel promises a momentary escape from the haunting of his tormented mind. In these fleeting moments, he clings to the hope that the precision demanded by the dance of death will anchor his thoughts, keeping them disciplined and resolute.

But the training ground transforms, and the air shimmers with the echoes of unsheathed swords. In the midst of training, Luke materializes. The world blurs as Aemond's gaze locks onto his nephew's phantom form, the arrogance etched upon his face mirroring the smirk that haunts him. A tempest of confusion descends, and in the blink of an eye, he lunges forward, sword clashing against an illusion.

Reality slips away, and he finds himself ensnared in a mirage - a realm where the dead dance with the living, taunting them with all they have left. In the throbbing aftermath, the truth bears down on him like a relentless storm.

He killed him. The admission echoes in the hollow chambers of his conscience, overtaking him completely. The clash of blades morphs into a funeral dirge, and as he stands amidst the lingering consequences of his actions, the training ground transforms into a graveyard of memories. The air hangs heavy with the scent of remorse, and the phantom of Luke lingers, a silent witness to the torment that now possesses Aemond.

How he wills for his nephew to leave him alone. How he wishes he could turn back time, to a day when his wife was happy with him, when he was not the object of repulsion in her eyes. How he wishes she would welcome him with open arms again...

But why would she, uncle? Why would she, when you have slain her twin and taken me away from her? Her true other half?

He swings his sword once more, the blade cutting through the air with a desperate force. Each slash is a fervent plea, hoping that the slashes would tear up the ghost of his bastard nephew to ribbons that fly away with the wind. Even in death, his nephew is a stain on his life that refuses to let him live in peace. First his eye, now his wife.

Her place is by my side, uncle. And by killing me, you only reminded her of that.

The echoes of Luke's haunting words reverberate through the empty training ground, as Aemond battles not only the illusions before him but also the relentless demons within. The weight of his actions, the echoes of his nephew's voice, and the damning truth merge into a haunting symphony that accompanies each swing of his sword, forming an enemy much more dangerous than the Blacks that he’d sworn to kill.

The air is thick with the acrid scent of remorse. Aemond's movements become more desperate, as if trying to carve out a safe haven from the phantoms that encircle him. The blade slices through him, yet Luke's voice persists, an unyielding reminder of the havoc wrought upon not just his life but everyone’s around him.

Amidst his violent dance with illusions, Aemond longs for the solace that has eluded him since that fateful day at Storm's End. His sword becomes an extension of his anguish, a vessel through which he hopes to banish the nightmares that torment his every waking moment. The words resonate, mocking his attempts to escape the repercussions of his actions.

Aemond's grip tightens on the hilt of the sword, the struggle etched across his face as he battles the intangible. The illusion persists, refusing to be vanquished, a testament to the indomitable force of guilt and regret.

He lowers his sword and the ghostly echoes of Luke's voice linger. The training ground falls silent, a wave of unresolved grief as Aemond grapples with the realization that, even in death, his nephew remains an inescapable presence in the twisted tapestry of his existence.

Luke smiles once more, and Aemond slams the tip of his sword into the gravel, watching it fall to the side as he screams. Luke’s reflection is a sharp image on his blade, but when he looks up, the ground is empty, save for a worried mentor that watches him from the side. What must he do to gain solitude again?

The air in the training ground seems to thicken further as Aemond walks away to put his sword aside. The haunting memories of his past misdeeds cling to him like a shroud, and the distant echoes of Luke's words continue to reverberate in his mind. The once-familiar grounds feel like a journey through a desolate and forsaken landscape as he somehow registers the distant sounds of Cole calling out his name in worry.

As Aemond picks up the sheath, he senses an eerie silence enveloping the surroundings. The wind carries whispers of his regrets, and the atmosphere is charged with an unsettling energy. He looks up to see his wife standing at one of the windows, her gaze fixed on a seemingly endless point beyond the horizon. The pain of a fractured marriage weighs heavily on his shoulders, and his arrogance, once a shield, now crumbles under the weight of remorse.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. He reads the emptiness in her eyes, an emptiness that reflects the void he has created between them. Aemond's heart sinks, realizing that his mistakes have irreparably damaged the bond he once took for granted. The echo of Luke's haunting voice intertwines with the desolation that surrounds him.

She is his, but he does not want to have her like this; unwilling. Unable to withstand the haunting gaze, Aemond turns away. The clang of metal against metal resonates in the air as he sheathed his sword. The once-sharp blade now feels heavy, burdened with the weight of his own sins.

Before he leaves, compelled by an unseen force, Aemond looks up at the tower once more. But this time, it is not his wife who meets his gaze. Instead, the window frames the ghostly figure of Luke, staring back with fear etched on his face. Before he can further contemplate the vision, she is right there again, looking away. With the many sightings of Luke that he is subjected to, Aemond is not fazed anymore. But he is once more reminded of how similar his nephew and wife look in fear. He does not like seeing her this way.

A shiver courses down Aemond's spine as his gaze meets the ghostly visage of his nephew. Before he can avert his eyes, the apparition transforms into his wife, each manifestation carrying an accusing, sorrowful, and frightened expression. The visions alternate with unsettling speed, a haunting dance where Luke and his wife exchange places in the blink of an eye.

Aemond is unnerved by the rapidity with which the pair appears almost indistinguishable, their features blending into an eerie resemblance that sends chills through his soul. The accusatory eyes of Luke and the sorrowful gaze of his wife interchange with a disorienting fluidity, leaving Aemond trapped in a whirlwind of regret, fear, and a gnawing sense of the uncanny.

He walks away, steps definitive and terror-struck as he steps into the tower. The silence is deafening, broken only by the echoes of regrets and the distant wind. Aemond, haunted by the consequences of his actions, contemplates the surreal encounter. The armor-laden grounds, once a place of training, now serve as the stage for the haunting manifestations of his past. The ghost of Luke remains and so does his remembrance of a happier wife - who, for reasons he cannot fathom, reminds him of his biggest mistake. A constant reminder that redemption may be forever out of reach.

THE WORD HOLDS TOO MUCH EMOTION than he can bear to pour into his voice, but he says it all the same.

“Wife.”

As Aemond approaches her, he takes in the sight of her, a weak vision of House Strong's distinct features marked by dark hair and blue eyes. The vibrant happiness that once defined her has been replaced by weariness, one that seems to have settled into the very core of her being.

Her brown hair, once a shiny cascade, now hangs in loose tendrils, lacking the luster it once possessed. The dim light highlights her fatigue, revealing the toll that the sorrow of losing her brother has taken on her. The lines etched upon her face speak of countless nights spent wrestling nightmares and the strain of unanswered questions. Her eyes, once bright and expressive, now carry a perpetual sadness and seem to bear the weight of all her losses.

Does she grieve for them too? For their marriage? For him and all the time they’ve lost?

As Aemond gathers the courage to approach, he can't help but feel a pang of regret for the role he played in casting this shadow over the woman he once knew and still loves. The air around her seems heavy with declarations unmade, the room echoing with the quiet desperation of a fractured connection that he is grasping at to mend. Aemond, yearning for reconciliation, steels himself to bridge the gap that has grown between them, hoping to heal not just their relationship, but her as well.

She turns to look at him, the faint moonlight from the window hitting her face as she assesses the man that stands before her. Not her husband, no - Aemond knows how she looked at him when she loved him. Now she simply stares through him, understanding that it’s her brother’s killer that she is facing. He doesn’t know what hurts him more - her grief, or her cluelessness.

She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t walk away either, empowering him to take a few steps further. He reaches out to her and takes her hand, and smiles by the corner of his lips when she doesn’t grab her hand back.

“Are you… well?”

The idiocy of the question while he sees how tired she is does not escape him, but in all honesty, she has him tongue-tied. Aemond has missed her touch, and simply getting to hold her hand again has set a fire ablaze in him that he cannot seem to quell.

“As well as one can be, considering the circumstances.”

Time stands still as he takes in the sound of her voice, hoarse from not having said much in a long while. His mother tries with her, but even the Queen can’t make his grief-stricken wife budge - she would stay until she couldn’t, leaving his wife to her thoughts. What could she say to make things better anyhow? I’m sorry my son killed your brother? I’m sorry you’re caught in a war that is not of your making? I’m sorry you cannot look at your husband with anything but disdain?

He is rendered well and truly silent as he tries to measure her feelings, but she beats him to it as she speaks again - addressing the elephant in the room as quickly as she is able. “Are you here to apologize for murdering my brother?”

“It was an accident.”

He knows he shouldn’t be arguing, but what was he to do? He’d let the world speak cruelly of him and brand him a kinslayer, but he cannot have his own wife hate him so. His defense of his actions only seem to spur her further as she pushes her free hand into his chest, and he holds onto her hand tighter, unwilling to let her go like she wants to.

“Don’t demean yourself by justifying your venom, Aemond. You have hated Luke your entire life, and I’d rather you not make years of hatred seem like nothing in your pursuit to make a better name for yourself with me now. You’re well past that, valzȳrys.” She spits out the last word, making him feel hurt and horrendously out of place. husband

“You don’t believe me.”

“You killed him!”

She sobs, her tears making it very clear that he is a lot less in her eyes now than he used to be. He fights the urge to scream, to hold her by the shoulders and shake sense into her. He wants to remind her that he is not what she thinks him to be, and that he genuinely would never do anything to hurt her. But he has. And he is now facing the consequences of weighing the choices and choosing wrong. How he wishes he’d simply let Luke leave - Aemond had won, why didn’t he?

Her sobs echo in the strained silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken grievances. In a moment of raw vulnerability, she hits him square on his chest - each strike of her closed fists carrying the weight of accumulated sorrow, an outward manifestation of the tumultuous emotions that have festered within. Aemond, initially taken aback, winces.

Yet, even as the blows intensify, Aemond doesn't recoil. Instead, he envelops her in a desperate embrace, a gesture born not out of defiance but of a shared longing for understanding. The chamber becomes a battleground of emotions, the struggle to make sense of their fractured marriage playing out in light of all that has taken place.

“I want to hate you so much.” She says, the words choked out as her voice comes out muffled. Her lips are branded onto his chest as she mouths the words over the leathers he wears. “I want to. You’re a monster, that's all I see. I hate you so much.”

He pretends to not hear any of the damning words, for fear of hurting her in the anger that they rouse in him. She looks up at him, and all he wants is to crush her in his hold as he feels the anger creep up on him. But what she says next knocks the wind out of him, reminding him of why he has taken the trouble to come here to try and repair their marriage.

“But I love you all the same, and I don’t know if I hate you or the love I hold more.”

It is all the confirmation he needs. She is not out of reach just yet. Aemond, grappling with the weight of her words, feels a heavy tension in the air as her lips remain pressed against his chest, the muffled admissions still hanging in the space between them.

As she lifts her head, her eyes, red and swollen, meet his. Aemond sees the internal conflict etched into the lines of her face, torn between the desire to loathe him and the persistent, undeniable love that refuses to be extinguished. He remains silent, understanding the gravity of her admission, aware that any response from him could tip the fragile balance they are trying to restore.

In a moment suspended between resentment and longing, she tentatively reaches up to touch his face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jaw. Aemond, still holding back the urge to speak, feels the warmth of her touch, a gesture that speaks volumes. Then, as if guided by an invisible force, their lips meet in a hesitant, exploratory kiss. It is not a fiery embrace born out of passion; rather, it is a delicate connection, an attempt to bridge the emotional distance that has grown between them.

And then Luke surfaces, yet again.

He holds her tighter and kisses her deep, his tongue begging for entrance as he fights the ghost of Luke, staring right at him as he tries to make his wife forgive him. With every movement of their joined lips, he refutes his dead nephew’s words. He is hers, and she is his. From this day, till the end of their days.

Not Luke’s. His.

“Mine,” he mumbles in between kisses. Over and over until the blasted bastard’s spirit hears and lets him live. But why should he, when Aemond did not offer him the same courtesy? “You’re mine. No one else’s.”

“What?” He doesn’t answer her murmured question, not quite ready to make her privy to the haunting of his mind by her twin. He does not want to let him ruin this moment for them, not any more than he already has. His hands involuntarily find her skirts, pushing them up as he lowers his lips to kiss her neck.

The skin of her thighs are as soft as he’d remembered, his hands relishing in the touch as it disappears under her dress. She clings to him, a slight whine escaping her lips as his fingertips graze her skin, holding onto her backside as he lifts her up effortlessly, feet carrying them both and pushing her into the nearest wall. The kiss is never ending, and he’d not have it any other way.He presses into her, his hands holding her by the hip so tight that he’s probably bruising her, but he is too far gone to care. He needs to prove his nephew wrong, and with each moment he believes he is closer to vanquishing the ghost of the Strong pup from his consciousness.

“Take me,” she says. He hears her, but he is not quite sure he is listening. However, he does as she says. He has wanted this for long, having missed her touch for long, having missed her wanting him for long. He has wanted this for too long to do anything otherwise, and so he does. He growls as he bites her neck, while she unlaces his breeches and lets his cock spring free. The weeping tip is erect and stands proud, and he hopes she can see what she could have had in the time that she pushed him away. No matter, she’s here now.

He is taken aback by how tight she is, how warm and inviting she is despite it all. Her wetness engulfs him as he thrusts into her, making up for wasted time. With each thrust and with each moan that she lets out, he hopes and prays that their marriage will endure - but the phantom of his nephew is never ending as he refuses to fade. Aemond claims her as is his right, but as he does, he realizes his true goal is to simply remind the ghost in his head that she is his, and no one else’s.

“Mine.”

She leans into him, meeting his forehead with hers as her hair falls around them. Her panting breaths and heaving chest has him in a tight chokehold, and it almost keeps him from being haunted by her twin. Almost.

She peaks with a shuddering moan, and as she falls into him - limp and willing - he chases his pleasure. He brings her down to stand and mindlessly thrusts into her as he chants mine, mine, mine over and over again and when he does spill in her, he wants to be able to only experience pleasure, and nothing else.

Surely his mind is playing tricks on him, or Luke has simply taken over Aemond in a capacity far beyond his control - for he is certain he sees him in her eyes for just a moment, taunting him and reveling in his misery.

The memory hits him like whiplash, and it is all he can think of.

Aemond’s hands encircle her delicate throat, pressing her frail form against the unforgiving stone wall, as though he intends to merge her essence with its cold surface. The echoes of her labored panting reverberate in the air, a desperate struggle for breath, while he, consumed by an unrelenting force, cannot cease his actions.

Her blue eyes roll back in agony, and the veins on her neck stand out more prominently than usual, appearing blue in certain lights and green in others - details he might have discerned if not blinded by rage and madness.

He sees clearly, he always does. But in this moment, the intensity of his anger clouds his judgment, rendering him as blind as he is perceptive in moments of calm. Her pallor intensifies, and her hands futilely attempt to pry his fingers from her skin, seeking reprieve - he wants to let go, but he cannot. How could he?

His nephew has haunted him for years, much like the famed phantom of Harrenhal. Luke may have only been nine years of age when he took Aemond’s eye, but it has wielded a malevolent influence throughout his journey from boyhood to manhood. It has been the root cause for a lot of what he’s done - right from marrying her, to now killing her so she can join her brother wherever he is.

He needs to banish the haunting memory of his nephew from his tormented consciousness. He wants so badly for the words to stop playing in his head, weaving a harsh thread of thoughts that he cannot seem to find his way out of. Her life hangs by a thread, one that he stretches taut until she snaps.

As much as he resents acknowledging it, perhaps Lucerys was right. He isn't killing her; he is merely guiding her to where she belongs, by his side. “Aemond…” Her plea is feeble, choked, and nearly devoid of a voice. “Husband, please…” He hears his sweet wife’s last words, but he refuses to listen.

As the light in her eyes slowly dims, he watches as she struggles to keep her eyes open. Her hold on his choking hand loosens and loses its fight, and she gives in. It is almost as though they are back to how they were, in the days when they were happier, and his hands had been around her neck in much more sensual moments - always just enough, never as tight and deadly as this.

She looks almost peaceful in this state, in the last moments where she’s accepted that she has outrun her course. He cannot have her this way, does not want her this way - where she fears him and what he has truly become; where every moment that she looks at him with mixed emotions, he is reminded of his nephew and the day he died.

Cursed bastard.

Her once kind smiles, the very essence that once distinguished her from her twin, have undergone a haunting transformation. Her face has since been etched with an unspoken terror, a fear that clings to her like a shroud of impending doom. Every glance she casts seems laden with an eerie anticipation, as if she is poised to deliver a fatal blow.

In those harrowing moments, the resemblance between them becomes a grotesque mirror, reflecting a likeness he cannot bear to acknowledge. The weight of her presence - his presence - is suffocating, an unsettling reminder of his own recklessness. He cannot afford the luxury of a wavering mind, not in the midst of a relentless war that demands his unwavering focus.

This connection has become an unbearable burden, stoking a fury within him that knows no bounds. All he craves is the dissolution of his nephew's haunting memory, an obliteration that refuses to comply with the confines of his subconscious. Instead, it lingers, an ominous specter that shadows his every waking moment, intensifying the horrors that plague him day and night.

And then, her breathing ceases.

The chilling realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave, dragging him into the abyss of his own making. The haunting echoes of his nephew's voice, the relentless specter that had tormented his every waking moment ever since the fateful day at Storm’s End, had finally ceased. However, the newfound silence is shattered by the ghastly thud of her lifeless form crumpling to the floor, unleashing an eerie force that wraps its tendrils around his soul.

She seems liberated from the oppressive shackles of fear and her lifeless face descends into an eerie calm that chills the marrow of his bones. In death, she appears more tranquil than any moment he witnessed in life since her twin’s passing. The grotesque disparity between her and Lucerys’ final moments sends a shiver down his spine, the air thick with the stench of regret and the palpable weight of his transgressions.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out to touch her slowly chilling forehead, pressing a sorrowful kiss upon it. The chamber becomes suffocating, the air thickening with an oppressive calm that clings to the shadows. In that macabre stillness, a chilling certainty takes hold — Lucerys will no longer haunt him, but the cost is etched in the lines of his lovely wife’s lifeless face.

As the reality of his irreversible choice seeps into his bones, a haunting question claws at the edges of his conscience: Was the liberation from the phantom of his nephew's influence worth the mad ending of his wife's life? The Seven bear witness to another one of his kinslaying crimes and the heavy silence that follows - a testament to the darkness that now envelopes his soul, as the shadows of the hearth themselves seem to recoil from the stench of blood that stains the very fabric of the air.

Now the twins are together in death, by each other’s side.

Aemond is free.

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MASTERLIST

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ikeuverse · 11 months

Text

MARRIAGE RING — p.jongseong

PAIRING: husband!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, angst, slight suggestive WC: 4.3k+

WARNINGS: mention of alcohol, partying and arguing. some swearing and implied mentions of having sex, but nothing detailed.

NOTES: as the winner of the vote, our beloved husband jay is here. i had this idea on a random day at work, with an almost similar situation with a colleague that works with me. i readapted and thought especially for this scenario. i was so nervous about writing to jay that i tried this four times until this final story came out. so, please, give lots of love. and i hope you like it!

masterlist

Your eyes roamed the entire place before they landed on Jay. A playful smile painted the boy's lips as he slowly approached you. As soon as one of his hands touched your waist, automatically your hand wrapped around his neck and let him brush his lips against yours.

"Enjoying the party?" he whispered against your lips before kissing them slowly, pulling away soon after.

"I guess Jiwoo could pick a better theme, huh?" you commented with a laugh, receiving another kiss from Jay.

Truth be told, you knew that your best friend and sister-in-law had always owned the best parties since your university days. Not least because you helped her prepare everything, so you knew how it always worked. But after two years of graduation, it never crossed your mind that she would throw a university-themed party.

"To remember the old times" you remember her saying when she called you to her house, bombarding you with information and asking for your help with the preparations. Just like in the old days.

You just laughed, because it was impossible to deny Park Jiwoo anything. Especially if she asked her fiancé, Heeseung, for help. He was a talker when he wanted to be and you knew him well, so having two talkers ask you for help was even more impossible to deny.

"Why a better subject? I think she chose well" Jay shrugged, balancing the cup in one hand while the other remained on your waist "Reminds you of old times."

"And you like it?" you asked curiously, Jay shrugged and lightly squeezed the fingers against your skin.

"I love it" he emphasized, leaning toward you after taking a sip of his drink. His lips were cold from the freshly consumed liquid, and you fought the urge to whimper when he kissed you once more. The hot breath tasted of vodka and some citrus fruit that you couldn't even identify, only feel the warmth of Jay's tongue fighting for dominance against yours. Before your lungs could clamor for air, he broke away, letting his forehead rest against yours.

"And give me one good reason why" you whispered, even though you knew he would hear over all that loud music because of the closeness of the two of you.

"Hm, let me see" he pretended to think for a moment, you laughed at his theatrics and Jay looked deep into your bright eyes "Because I met the woman of my life, who I married. Can you believe it?"

Your cheeks slowly began to burn, and you knew it wasn't from the alcohol because your glass had run out minutes before Jay arrived. And it couldn't have been just from a shared kiss with your husband, so you knew you were getting flushed.

Jay had that effect on you even after years of relationship, and even now, married.

"What a lucky woman" you said a little louder, kissing him again. Before you felt Jay's body quickly separate from you.

"Sorry about that, y/n. We need Jay now" Heeseung hummed, under protests from Jay for having to pull away from you.

"It's our beer pong, y/n. Just like old times" Jungwon smiled in your direction as he explained why they had taken Jay away. You laughed at your husband's little desperation, even though you did not object to staying.

"Now, it's just the two of us" Jiwoo came in surprise, hugging you by the shoulders "Just like old times, and forever and ever."

"Forever and ever" you smiled at her, hugging her back as you looked at the party around you.

Everything did look so nostalgic. From the decorations you helped Jiwoo buy, to even some of the familiar faces at the party. Your best friend made sure to think of everything, posting it online on the alumni wall of the university you attended for so many years. No sane person who knew the two of you would not be able to attend a party planned by the duo. So practically everyone who has ever had the pleasure of enjoying something prepared by you and her was there.

People greeted you as if you were still the little celebrities on campus, even if you didn't feel that way in the first place. Jiwoo was the little celebrity. Because he was part of the university media and had a super-cute, hot brother that practically every girl wanted. This last part always bothered you, but you started to think this way after Jay met you.

The wave of memories hit you, remembering exactly the day Jiwoo told you about his older brother and how horrible it was to have so many girls approaching her with an interest in him. You felt bad for her, and at the same time, you didn't believe her. Who would be so crazy about a person that they would approach someone out of interest? But once you got to know Jay, maybe you understood girls at least a little bit. Not that you did, because you were friends with Jiwoo even before you met Jay.

And that was the reason why the coming together of the two of you was so natural and even more approved by your sister and best friend. Because she knew that you were the only one not to do what almost all the girls on that campus tried to do.

You fell in love with Jay little by little, just as he fell in love with you until everything became love. Until your relationship stretched on for years and soon you both stood in front of the altar whispering yes as you exchanged rings.

That small object symbolically united the love you had for each other since the first day you met. With that you sighed heavily, your eyes glittering as you stared at Jiwoo at the present moment and your friend glared back at you.

"What? Are you emotional?"

"Yes" your breathing became a little shaky, so you had to take a deep breath to keep from crying "I was remembering us from the time we met."

"Really?" Jiwoo whined, now thinking of the day she saw you in the library cursing the old computer that wouldn't turn on at all. She ran to you and offered to help, handing you her laptop to finish a paper in your first semester. And that never separated you again.

"Yes, I swear" you squeezed her gently.

"I love you so much, best friend and sister-in-law in the world" Jiwoo dramatically threw his arms up in the air, then brought them back down only to hug you tightly. You laughed, returning her hug before you felt your best friend's hands slide down to your hands "Thank you for staying."

"I thank you for staying here" the drink was helping the little statements and you both just enjoyed it.

But before you could say anything else, Jiwoo's eyes widened when she ran her fingers through yours, her hands still together with both of yours.

"What?" you were startled by her expression, staring at her.

"Where's your wedding ring? You and Jay—"

Your eyes ran down to your fingers to see that your marriage ring wasn't there. A crushing tightness took over your chest and you could swear your vision blurred for a few seconds before you looked at Jiwoo again.

"Shit, I left it at home" both you and her eyes widened. Something seemed so simple, forgetting a marriage ring. But not a marriage ring that you knew Jay had worked so hard to buy and almost walked down the aisle with as he said a few words and put the ring on your finger.

"Now what?" before you could answer Jiwoo, your eyes quickly found Jay walking towards the two of you with the other boys this time.

"I managed to find you, ladies" he said cheerfully, looking at you and then at his own sister.

"How was the game?" Jiwoo asked, feeling the weight of Jay's arms on her shoulders.

"I had some weird juice that Jungwon made before we played" he grimaced as he remembered the taste, being followed by Heeseung's laughter.

"It wasn't as bad as Sunghoon" he laughed at the memory, really laughed "He drank pure vinegar."

Ew, you and Jiwoo hissed as they laughed at the poor guy who should be recovering from what happened.

"And you ladies, don't you want anything to drink?" Heeseung asked.

"We…" your gaze sought Jiwoo's quickly, trying to recover from the small shock of minutes ago. The boys, although consuming alcohol throughout the night, could tell that the two of you were hiding something.

"Hey Jay, I think we got in the middle of some important business" Heeseung hummed.

"Yeah, how about you two share with us?" he feigned innocence in his question, causing Jiwoo to snort at her brother and then at her fiancé, rolling her eyes afterward.

"You two are such busybodies, you know that?" she walked past them until she reached you, entwining her arm in yours "Me and y/n are going to go out and walk around a bit. Have fun."

She pulled you along even though she heard the two of them calling your names, but you both ignored it. Maybe walking around the place and even playing small talk with some familiar faces might get one of the two to think of some excuse in case Jay and Heeseung ran into them again.

"We just need to keep this out of your brother's eyes" you commented after they reached the kitchen, making sure that neither of them would be walking by anytime soon.

"I think Jay would freak out if he saw you without a marriage ring" she laughed, but felt bad after she met your worried eyes "Ok, sorry. We'll figure something out or not even touch the subject until you two get home."

You thanked her with a small nod, looking around the counter and searching for a clean glass. That scene repeated itself at almost every party, you and Jiwoo standing in the kitchen looking for something to drink while she told you some shocking subject and your gaze dribbled between your friend and the glasses on the counter to grab one and fill it up with booze. The thought made you laugh and she laughed along with you, even though she didn't know why.

And at that, Jiwoo got two glasses to fill them with something a little stronger than your previous drink. You wanted the same, so you didn't even dare to look for something else, just letting her prepare it while your hands played with the marble of the countertop.

"Jiwoo? Y/n?" the voice called out with such surprise that you both turned your necks at the same instant to the door of the room.

Your jaw dropped slightly in surprise when you found Ryan there. He was a nice guy from university, flirted with you both all the time, and even teased Heeseung and Jay once, pretending not to know that you two were engaged.

This resulted in Jay swearing at the boy and Heeseung almost punching him in the face if not for Sunghoon and Jake having to hold him down in the middle of the soccer field. After that Ryan didn't come any closer, at Sunghoon's request because he didn't want a heavy look on his team and much less at some future party that always took place every two weeks.

Now the boy was standing there, right in front of the two of you with a playful smile on his lips.

"Hey, Ryan. Back to nostalgia?" Jiwoo asked nonchalantly, finishing filling her glass and then finally handing over your own.

"I guess so" he moved closer to the counter, standing on the opposite side from where you two were standing. Maybe that distance was a little safer "The party of you two always being amazing. Even after university."

You two decided to agree, getting into whatever subject it was. And talking with Ryan suddenly seemed nice. Because he hadn't flirted, much less made the atmosphere as uncomfortable as it used to be. You and Jiwoo had completely forgotten that your partners had once almost hit the boy who was talking animatedly right in front of you.

"So" Ryan said after a while talking about his trip to Europe and how his current job was going "How are you and Heeseung doing?" he looked at Jiwoo. The passionate smile she gave him already gave everything away.

"We're doing so well" she sighed softly "Being engaged is wonderful, I can't wait to do the same as my brother."

And then she looked at you. Eyes shining in admiration and you smiled, taking the glass with the drink to your lips and taking a sip. Trying not to look so embarrassed because quickly the subject had turned to you.

"Uh, are you and Jay okay? I mean… The wedding…" Ryan said.

"Yeah, we're perfect" you placed your glass on the countertop, he narrowed his eyes at your words and leaned in a little. But you hadn't whispered anything after that.

"Then why don't I see a marriage ring on your finger?"

A brief moment of silence was interrupted by a loud gasp. Your gaze traced the figure of Jay standing right in the kitchen doorway. He had his jaw locked and sharp, looking crookedly at Ryan as he entered the kitchen.

"Jay" the boy greeted, but got no response more than a nod at him.

"Am I getting in the way of something?" he asked, you could feel the fury in his tone.

"No, we…" Jiwoo looked at you, searching for help to continue speaking.

"We were just leaving. We just came to get a drink, come on" you took Jay's hand and quickly ran from there. Without managing to say goodbye to Ryan, much less lookback. You also didn't know if Jiwoo was following you, but you knew that Jay had incredible strength when he pulled your hand and made you stop walking right in the middle of the hallway where you two were going.

The meeting of your body with his made Jay's face close to yours. The hard look and serious countenance still lingered on his face.

"I—" you began, but he interrupted you in the process.

"He doesn't see a marriage ring on your finger" Jay began and you knew he had heard everything. You were screwed "Why, y/n? Where's the fucking ring we shared?"

"Jay… Love…" you wanted to explain as smoothly as possible, but you knew it wouldn't work at that moment. So you just tried to smile as the words slid from your lips slowly at that moment "I ended up leaving at home—"

"Oh, right" Jay didn't let you finish, letting go of your body and taking a few steps away from you. Your brow furrowed as he reached for his own marriage ring and pulled it off his finger, putting it away in his pocket soon after "I forgot it tonight too. Enjoy the party, y/n."

And just as quickly as Jay reached you, he hurried away. You didn't know what had gotten into your husband to make him do that, but it had certainly made your blood boil, and consequently, your vision was blurred by the angry tears that threatened to fall.

You tried your best not to let the tears fall, but you faltered the moment you found Jiwoo at the party again. She knew something had happened as soon as she saw you stunned, seconds after seeing Jay walk through the door and out of the house without speaking to anyone.

"I don't want to hear it, just cry" she whispered as she hugged you, walking out with you from the crowd that didn't even seem to care about the two of you there. Too absorbed in dancing and drinking to pay attention to someone crying so late at night.

So you let her walk you to the bathroom, sobbing on your shoulder and telling you what had happened. Jiwoo cursed at Jay for what seemed like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes to get you to stop crying and listen to her carefully.

"I also fought with Heeseung because he saw Ryan at the party" she said after you had been quiet for a while, stroking your hair and encouraging you to look in the mirror to fix your newly smudged makeup.

"I don't know what made your brother do that" you gave a slight hiccup after washing your face a little, drying it, and trying to tidy your slightly messy hair.

Jiwoo sighed, giving a small smile at your rambling after you left the mirror. It was time for her to look and check that everything was presentable.

"So I guess I can take you home now" she spoke after you were done with everything and so was she, both came out of the bathroom to find Heeseung standing on the other side and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed "Damn, what a scare!"

He suppressed a smile, unbuckling himself from the wall to approach you and Jiwoo.

"I wanted to know if you two were okay" Heeseung tried not to comment on your crying appearance, and you thanked him for it "And I just called Jay, he's already home."

The couple's gaze hovered over you, and your uncontrollable urge to cry eventually returned. But it soon pulled away when you took a deep breath and looked back at them.

"I think I'll go too."

"Then we'll take you" Jiwoo looked at Heeseung, who smilingly agreed to his fiancée's request.

Without the strength or desire to refuse, because your ride was already at home, you accepted. And you let them drive you to your apartment in silence. Both of them respected your space while you fought back tears once again.

When the car stopped in front of your residence, you apologized so much to Jiwoo and Heeseung for leaving so this alone gave you the right to shed a few more tears before you entered the lobby of the building and ran to the elevator to your apartment. You didn't think about anything else, just wishing you a nice shower since it would be almost impossible to have any conversation with Jay that night.

And with that thought you opened the front door seeing that it was unlocked. Maybe he left it open because I don't have the keys, you thought and tried to make it happen without much ado.

Taking off your shoes in the hallway, you quickly ran into your room in silence, only to find Jay already lying on the bed. His attention, which had previously been on his cell phone, quickly ran to your figure standing in the bedroom doorway.

He didn't say anything, and neither did you. And that made you go straight to the shower without a conversation. Your mind wanders to how angry Jay's tone was when he spoke to you, then letting the water run down your body soaking your skin and hair. Thinking of the hurt look he had given you as soon as you arrived. Was he resentful? Was he hurt? You didn't know. And you couldn't know without a conversation, even if it didn't happen right now.

Washing your hair and body, after a long time, you turned off the shower and got ready for bed. It was the bare minimum. Your whole body was aching and only your bed would be able to ease that, even though your taste would be to have Jay's arms as well, you would settle for just your covers for one night.

When you came out of the bathroom, your eyes ran to the figure of your husband still sitting on the bed and leaning back against the headboard. It made you sigh, he didn't even move, you thought.

Trying to put the thought out of your mind, your steps went to your dressing table and that's when the vision hit you. Your marriage ring was right there. The small, shiny ring that you and Jay had equally, was right up there. And that reminded you of why.

Swallowing dryly with the lump forming in your throat, you took the ring and returned to your ring finger in moments, stroking it gently as you turned toward your bed. Walking slowly, you noticed that Jay was fighting the urge to look at you, but his eyes remained on his cell phone the entire time.

Would he give in? Was being alone having any effect on him at all? And like a still university feeling from the recent party, you made your way to the bed and went to your usual bedside. But before you could lie down or do anything, your body slid down and your legs steadied as you sat on Jay's lap.

"What…" he dropped the cell phone at the same second, looking up to meet your eyes.

A twinge in his chest hurt like a knife, looking up at the bright red orbs that stared back at him.

"What are you doing?" he managed to ask properly, his hands hovering beside his own body on the mattress still hesitant to touch you.

You lay still for a few minutes, staring at every point on Jay's face. His tight, well-defined jaw, his adam's apple rising and falling as he swallowed dry. Every little part of his tanned, well-washed skin, the damp hair against his forehead giving a final charm.

Your face tilted just enough so that your forehead brushed against Jay's, closing your eyes in the process as his breath grew heavy against your skin.

"The ring was left up there when I did my makeup earlier today" you began whispering, your hands slowly coming up until you held Jay's face between them "And from what I remember, I couldn't finish it because I was interrupted."

Jay could feel his cheeks burn this time, knowing that the culprit had been him. Arriving home early from work and excited because his sister was having a party, he knew that you would be getting ready much sooner than expected, especially since you would soon be leaving to help your sister-in-law with the preparations. He had to take a shower to get all the tension out of the day and also accompany you, staying there and not having to come back later.

But seeing you in that robe while applying makeup was too much for Jay's poor mind to think about. And the only thought was to untie the fabric from your body and take you for a second shower. This resulted in a delay, and you ran so fast to find Jiwoo that you hadn't even finished the second batch of makeup. All because your husband had taken too much time with you in the shower before they left.

"I—"

"You acted like a dumb university student, Jongseong."

"Hey!" Jay felt a strange sensation when you called him by his real name, knowing that it was only used on extremely serious occasions. That one was, indeed.

His hands had reached your waist in the middle of the conversation, his fingers playing with the fabric of your pajamas shyly while he too had his eyes closed.

"I'm sorry" he said, making you open your eyes. When you uncrossed your forehead from his, Jay also opened his eyes to get a better look at you "I'm sorry that I got a fucking idiot jealous and it got out of control."

His words suddenly faded, lost in Jay's eyes as his caress on your waist ran one hand up your back, while the other went straight to your face. Holding your cheek gently.

"I didn't mean to do what I did and I regret it so much because, I swear, I lost my mind at that moment" Jay let his thumb trace the entire line of your jaw before fitting his hand perfectly between your neck and the back of your head "And I hurt the woman of my life. Seriously y/n, seeing you like this is the last thing I want in this world."

"Then believe me, Jay" you whispered as low as you could, fearing to cry again in front of him "Believe me I would never do that to you, because it's not my intention."

"I know, love" Jay pressed his lips to your chin, moving up to your mouth to slowly seal your lips against his "Forgive me for being a shit tonight, I didn't mean to ruin the night."

"You're forgiven for being a shit" you chuckled softly when he murmured in 'hey', and quickly your hands went to his shoulders, where you managed to steady yourself a little more on Jay's lap "Please promise me one thing."

"Whatever you want" he whispered against your lips as you leaned in close.

"Don't act on impulse when you're jealous" your mouth blew a warm breath against his, making Jay sigh next "I don't like that version of you."

He swallowed dryly once again, his chest crunching with regret as a nod was given in response. Even though no words could express how sorry Jay was about the whole situation.

"Now, I need something" he hugged you around the waist after a while, pressing your body against his in such a welcoming way that you didn't even notice the moment Jay reversed positions, placing you lying against the mattress to hover over your body.

"Sure. What do you need?" you said after a euphoric giggle at having been taken by surprise when you lay down and had Jay's body right above yours.

He then leaned in, connecting your lips in a quick kiss before pulling away just enough to whisper against your mouth.

"I need a second round to prove how sorry I am…"

"Park Jongseong!" your hysterical shout cheered him, making Jay laugh as he pressed you against him. This time the name hadn't left his lips for a bad reason.

He really wanted to redeem himself, to entwine your hands with his and join your wedding rings as he enjoyed the whole evening with you.

#jay fluff #jay angst #jongseong fluff #jongseong angst #park jongseong angst #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #park jongseong fluff #enhypen au #enhypen jay #enhypen masterlist #jay x reader #park jay x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

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sc0tters · 7 months

Text

His Home | Adam Fantilli

summary: it’s Adam’s birthday and his debut in the NHL, little does he know you’re there watching

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), swearing.

word count: 3.07k

authors note: welcome back to what I like to call, kei told me not to behave (soft edition?). I’m kidding (sorta) this is a really different to what I usually write because it had a bit of angst in it? The first bit of regular italics are from the Adam birthday video that the bluejackets did and the second is a regular flashback!

It was the clip Adam loved rewatching the most.

You were sat in your dorm in his hoodie and his hat (a detail that only he would pick up on) as you smiled “hey baby!” You smiled as you looked at your phone “now I’ve tried redoing this like eight times now.” You confessed letting out a little laugh.

The picture of Adam on draft night that you had taken after you two snuck out to Dairy Queen stared back at you “I keep on crying and you really don’t need to see me get all snotty again.” You shook your head as the pile of tissues on your bed was beginning to build.

Adam couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as you nervously thought about what it was that you wanted to say “point is I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” You two started dating in October of freshman year and you swore you’d kill him before he broke up with you with before trying long distance “I miss you and I love you.” You confessed wiping your cheek as another tear fell.

As you sucked at your cheek smiling unaware that Adam was doing the same thing “you’re gonna smash it tonight, so happy birthday and play your little heart out there.”

You brought your fingers up to your lips “I’m so proud of you my star.” The video ended as your kissed fingers pressed against the camera ending the video like you did all of your FaceTime calls that you had with him.

Honestly Adam was surprised that he wasn’t sick of that video anymore with the amount of times that he had replayed it “sorry she can’t be here tonight.” Kent knew how upset Adam was that you were unable to make it to his first game.

What was the actual twist of the knife was that you hadn’t responded to anything on all platforms and went as far as to turn your locations off on everything “I just don’t remember making her mad.” Adam sighed as he frowned looking at his lock screen that was a picture of you two in front of the yost one evening.

You were in your Fantilli jersey and he had his arms wrapped around you as he kissed your head “she’s probably just stressed with that class you said she was taking.” Kent shrugged trying to keep a straight face.

The whole team had come together to plan this. The only thing that could possibly be making you stressed right now was the fact that you were trying to not get caught in Columbus.

Yes, the boys convinced you to change around some things as they felt like you being there was the birthday and debut gift that money truly couldn’t buy “I guess you’re right.”

Thankfully for you, Adam never noticed that you were there as you sat far away from his parents and family.

The game ended in a win and Adam was even able to get some points on the board so it was safe to say that you were all excited about more than just the win.

Wanting to give him some time with his family you stayed hidden for a bit mainly getting to know more of his teammates “you know he’s clueless about this right?” Kent smiled as he saw the excited look on your face.

Adam knew it probably sounded terrible but as he listened to his dad’s opinions about the game he couldn’t help it as his eyes wondered off to find you.

His brain hoped that by some divine act you were actually there.

And that was when he saw you.

Well not you, actually the top of your head “shut up!” Adam let out a gasp causing you to turn around in his direction.

Both of you had grins on your faces and tears forming in your eyes “w-what are you doing here?” He asked quickly pushing past people to making sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

As your flowery perfume pushed into his nostrils he knew that you were really there “couldn’t not be here tonight.” You mumbled holding your arms out as he pulled you into a hug.

Usually you would have groaned at how sweaty he was but today you just loved feeling him against you “happy birthday my love.” You smiled looking up at him before you placed a kiss on the hockey players lips “how long are you here for?” The hockey player wanted you there for as long as possible “fly out on Sunday my love.” So that basically meant that you had three whole days with him as well as another game to watch.

At this point the cameras had turned away wanting to give you and Adam the moment in private or at least as private as it could be for being stood out in the open “go get showered and then we can all catch up.” Julia proposed looking at her son as she wrapped her arm around you.

You had gotten to know his parents over the summer and nothing made them happier than seeing the smile on their sons face whenever he looked at you.

So you knew that you were going to sound bad when you thought about this because as fun as it was getting to catch up with Adam’s family and watch him smile as he interacted with his parents.

What you truly wanted was to be with him on the couch talking like you used to.

The Michigan air was cold around Ann Arbor but that wasn’t something you and Adam were complaining about.

No instead you two were comfortably on the couch in your dorm as your roommate was in a class “what are you thinking about?” Adam smiled as he realised that you were staring at him.

His thumb massaged your hip as his baggy basketball shorts left the area of your skin exposed “I’m gonna miss these moments with you.” You confessed as you two loved being on top of each other on the tiny two seater couch.

Before a frown could form on your lips as the thought of the draft came along Adam brought his face closer to yours “the draft is a long way away baby.” The hockey player cooed “so for now let’s enjoy this.” He added pressing his lips against yours.

So as the Uber let you two out at the door of Adam’s apartment building you couldn’t help but smile as you grew excited “are you guys sure you don’t want to come up for a bit?” Adam looked at his family members in the car as he wrapped his hand around you “you two should go have fun.” Julia clearly didn’t mean it in the way that flashed through your mind but it still made you smile as you send her a nod.

You two watched the car drive off before you turned to make your way into the building “can’t believe that you’re truly here.” Adam mumbled pressing a kiss onto your head as he took in the familiar scent of your shampoo.

His hand slid lower now resting on your ass that he gave a squeeze “Adam!”

You squealed jumping as you walked into the elevator.

That resulted in a laugh from the boy who quickly joined you before the doors shut “you can’t blame me for missing you.” His words were true as he locked his hands on either side of you “thought about you all day.” Adam confessed hovering his lips over yours.

A smile formed on your face “I did too,” as you leaned up to kiss him the doors opened causing an awkward meeting for you two with an elderly couple “I’m gonna need to you walk in front of me.” The hockey player‘s whisper sent shivers down your spine as you looked down to see that he was hard.

Trying to keep the giggle from leaving your lips you nodded adjusting yourself so that you could walk in front of Adam who now had one hand on your waist and the other carrying your bag “have a good night.” You sent the couple a smile as the boy forced you out of there as quickly as he could.

You looked to Adam with a teasing look on your face “you got a little problem?” You joked seeing that nobody was in the hallway.

Adam scoffed as he shook his head “not only is this your fault but it also isn’t little.” The boy corrected you as he stopped in front of his door “let me get your keys.” You smirked dropping your hand into his pocket.

If he could tell what you were trying to do then Adam was being a good sport for putting up with it “those aren’t my keys.” He warned as you palmed his dick between the fabric of his pocket and his boxers “I know.” You pressed a kiss against his ear before you pulled his keys out quickly unlocking the door to his apartment.

There was a spilt second before Adam practically pushed you both into the apartment “someone’s needy.” You teased watching as he dropped your bag pressing the door shut with his hand before he made a beeline for you “I know.” Adam repeated your words as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Giving you a small moment to bring your hands to his neck before he kissed you. You two finally had that moment you had longed for where he could kiss you properly.

His tongue fought with yours as there was no longer the need to behave as someone was watching “fuck,” you moaned feeling his hands cup your ass “jump baby.” Adam didn’t need to tell you for a second time as your legs locked around his waist.

The walk to his room was short, not that either of you truly would have cared because you two were just enjoying the feeling of each others lips “god I’ve missed this.” The hockey player cooed dropping your body onto his bed.

You smiled up at him as he joined you on his bed still wanting to soak in the taste of your lips.

Sure it was etched into his brain but that didn’t mean that Adam wasn’t feeling this sense of being high each time he got to feel your lips against his skin “Adam,” you whined as his hands ran over your waist.

His smile was clear as he pecked your lips one final time “I wanna taste you baby.” Adam shook his head as your hand brushed over his cock.

You tried to protest “it’s your birthday,” you pointed out as you simply wanted to make him feel good “and all I want to do is taste that pretty cunt of yours.” Adam shot back as he shifted down his bed.

Adam hooked his fingers in the waist band of your pants “you look so fucking good today.” The hockey player gushed as he was met with the sight of your lace panties “you knew you were gonna get fucked tonight didn’t you?” The Canadian smirked as he let your panties slide down your legs.

Your head bobbed as you nodded “please A,” you pleaded grabbing at his sheets as Adams breath fanned your cunt.

To say that you were soaked was an understatement as even in his dimly lit room Adam could still see the way that your pussy glistened “gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight.” The hockey players voice was shaky before his tongue ran up your slit settling on your clit.

It was like he was starving at the way he locked his hands around your thighs “shit Adam!” You cried bringing your hand down to his hair gripping onto his locks.

His eyes caught yours as you drove your hips into his face desperate to get off in that very moment.

His tongue swirled around your sensitive nub as he brought his fingers to your soaked cunt “god I’ve missed this,” the vibrations of his laugh sent shivers up your spine as your body shook.

Sure phone sex was a thing but this was a whole new level.

After weeks of not being able to get off through phone sex as your fingers and the sound of Adam’s voice could only do so much.

You were now getting exactly what you wanted “I’m gonna come,” you groaned scrunching your face as your body shook.

Adam nodded as you clenched around his fingers “let go baby.” He smiled lapping up your release as he was reminded how much he missed this.

But just like usual Adam didn’t slow down his movements as you rode his face through your orgasm “n-no A,” you shook your head trying to bring your body up and off of the bed.

His smirk was clear as he continued sucking you clit “baby,” you whined literally pulling his head up as you kissed his lips.

Tasting your release on his tongue made you squirm “you taste so sweet.” Adam groaned as your cunt rubbed against his clothed dick “baby I’m gonna come and I gotta do it in you.” He grunted as you nodded.

It took him seconds to undo his pants as you pulled his jersey over your head leaving you in your bra “god you’re gorgeous.” The hockey player smiled as he grabbed the condom from his wallet.

After you two were caught up after a big game with no condom Adam now had one that lived in his wallet for whenever you two would need it.

Before Adam could rip the wrapper open you had your hands capturing it so that you could wrap it around his cock “don’t tease me baby.” The hockey player warned bringing his hand to your head as you kitten licked the tip of his cock.

His precum oozed out of his swollen tip as you looked up at him with a smile “giving you everything you want tonight.” You mumbled pushing the condom over his cock as you kissed his lips swallowing his moan in the process.

Slowly Adam’s knees sink into the mattress as he comes down to your level “I just want you tonight.” His confession made your heart burst with love and pride “you have me Adam.” You nodded watching as he pressed his hands against your shoulders softly pushing you against the mattress.

Adam let his lips start at yours showing you an immense amount of love before he moved them to your cheek then to your jaw.

His journey slowly continued to your neck “A-Adam!” Your voice shook as your eyes screwed shut.

It made him smile as he pressed a kiss to each of your breasts “I want to take my time with you.” The hockey player cooed rubbing his fingers in your hips as he kissed your stomach “Adam please.” The desperation in your voice made him smile as he stopped.

The boy moved up to the point where his head stood just above yours “I love you baby.” Adam mumbled pressing his forehead against yours as his free hand drove his cock over your clit before he let it slide into your cunt.

You both gasped as the familiar feeling came over you both “this cunt feels like it did just back then.” Adam let out a grunt as you nodded “please move.” You begged making him smile.

He listened to you beginning to slowly bring his hips away from you before he brought them back to yours “you feel so good.” The Canadian cooed as you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist like it was on instinct.

Like usual he was always so vocal “don’t stop,” you pleaded leaning forward to kiss his lips.

Adam almost collapsed at your neediness “god you’re out of this world.” Your cunt clenched around his cock at those words.

The moment was soft, it seemed that you two weren’t interested in having hot and steamy sex tonight. Not when you had missed the simple sheer contact that you two were having now “so full.” You blurted out as you swore that his cock had grown as it hit parts of you had it had never seen.

The hockey player didn’t think that he was going to last long as you continued to drive your hips against his “I love you.” You cried as his hand found its way between your bodies landing on your clit “this cunt was made for me.” Adam groaned as you nodded “all for you.” You agreed as you kissed him.

It was needy as Adam’s thrusts grew staggered at the way you clenched around his cock “I’m not gonna last,” Adam confessed as he shook his head “me neither,” you cried as the pressure on your clit increased.

It made your eyes shut as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap “love those noises.” The hockey player felt his head drop against your shoulder.

The sound of your whimpers hit the walls making Adam sure that he was going to get an awkward knock on the door tomorrow from his neighbour “right there oh-” your voice broke as pleasure pulsed through your body.

It made you shake against him as your hands locked in his hair “so so good,” you groaned gasping for air as white specks painted the backs of your eye lids.

Adam’s orgasm came right after yours making you both sweat as you came down from your highs “you okay?” The hockey player asked as his hands brushed your hair out of your face.”

You nodded with a smile “yep.” You watched him throw the condom away in the trash can next to his bed before you made grabby hands wanting him to come back to you “I want a cuddle.” Your confession made him laugh.

Of course Adam listened as he held his hands out to you “happy birthday baby.” You mumbled as you lay your head against his chest.

The boy smiled as he ran his fingers through your hair “thanks for making my birthday one to remember.” He cooed enjoying how this felt.

With you in his arms he knew that one thing was sure.

Home for Adam wasn’t a tangible place, it wasn’t a rink or his childhood home.

His home was right here, you were his home.

#adam Fantilli smut #adam fantilli imagines #adam fantilli x reader #nhl oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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gretavangroupie · 3 months

Text

Errant

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Fighting, Name Calling, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Allusions to Cheating, Jealousy, Anger, Gaslighting. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Slight Masochism, Slight Humiliation Kink, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the third installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Josh's story! This may not be everyones cup of tea, so make sure you read the warnings! There's only one left now, and we can't wait to share Jake's story with you! See you real soon!

JOSH POV

You sit on the exam table, gently swinging your feet as the doctor scribbles on his prescription pad. The paper underneath you crinkles, your clammy hands getting stuck to it.

“It’s looking like the perforation is healing, but I’m going to give you some antibiotics and ear drops. You’ll take the antibiotics for 10 days and the drops for 5.” He tears off the prescription and hands it to you. “Just be sure you aren’t drinking and you avoid getting any water in or around your ears.”

You scrunch up your nose when you hear the pointed reminder not to drink.

“Thank you, doc. I’ll be on my best behavior.” You joke, hopping down from the table. Your sneakers squeak as you stick the landing.

Navigating through the back halls of the ENT practice, you follow the signs that direct you to the check-out. It’s eerily quiet as you walk through the waiting room and out of the front doors. The sun nearly blinds you when you get outside, so you lift your hand to block it out while you search for your girlfriend’s car.

Spotting her a few rows into the parking lot, you walk in her direction, knocking softly on the window once you’re close enough. She unlocks the door and you slip inside, the car next to her parked a little too close. She sighs, shifting from park to drive while you buckle your seatbelt.

“How was it?” she asks, her enthusiasm lacking. You look over at her as she cranes her neck to check that the way is clear before she pulls out of her parking spot.

“Well, it was fine.” You take a deep breath before continuing. “I have to take antibiotics and put in ear drops for a few days, so you might have to help me with that. I can keep taking the pain meds that the doctor I originally saw prescribed, but the pain should subside as I heal.”

She nods, keeping the radio volume low. The only time she doesn’t sing in the car is when she’s upset, and you know the song currently playing is one of her favorites. So, you seal your fate and ask the dreaded question in every relationship.

“What’s wrong?”

She huffs and thinks for a moment before she answers.

“You know it’s Valentine’s day, right?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” You’ve never put much stock in the holiday and you didn’t think she did either. The last two years, you hadn’t ever done more than get her some flowers or chocolates delivered, mostly because you weren’t around.

“I just… I don’t know, it’s the first one we’ve been able to spend together and we’re spending the day going to the doctor and the pharmacy…”

“Oh, so you’re mad that you had to bring me to the doctor?” you ask, a little defensive now.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Josh. I’m just saying I wish we were doing more than running errands.” She speaks curtly to you, and honestly, it’s a little condescending.

“It’s a made up holiday anyway. I’ve never bought into all the hearts and candy and bullshit. I didn’t think you did either.” You rest your head on your hand, looking out the window as she drives a little too fast down the freeway.

“It’s not about that. You’re not getting it.” she snaps, her tone whiny and frustrated.

“Listen. I had my assistant send you chocolate covered strawberries to your office. I don’t really know what else you want from me.” you bite back. You’ve had enough of this argument and want to be home already so you can take something for your pain and try to get some rest.

“I didn’t even know that, seeing as I had to call out and use a sick day to take you to the doctor.” she says, and you feel your scalp get hot, your temper flaring.

“So you are mad you had to bring me to the doctor.”

“I just don’t understand what a ruptured eardrum has to do with driving!” she says, her voice raising a bit. “You didn’t take your pain meds this morning so you technically would have been fine to drive… I just don’t appreciate that I had to use my PTO on Valentine’s day and all I’m doing is driving Miss Daisy.”

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m in a lot of fucking pain.” you grit out, and she scoffs a laugh.

“Yeah. I’ve heard.”

You know you’re about to lose it, so you close your eyes for a moment, gathering your composure. Unfortunately, she just keeps going.

“I thought I was going to spend my Valentine’s day getting bitten and scratched by your brother’s awful fucking cat, but now that you’re all home, I get to spend my evening dealing with you while you’re miserable and in pain, and I’m not sure which is worse.”

“You act like I’m home on some vacation… I have a work function tomorrow even if I’m not out at the shows, so–”

“Are you kidding me?! You somehow have MORE obligations now that you’re home? I guess I’m the fool for thinking we would have more than a few hours to spend together.” She cuts the wheel and turns sharply into your driveway. You grab the handle of the door and grumble under your breath at the way she’s driving like a maniac.

“Look, it’s not like I asked to go. Jake and Danny did the last one, so now Sam and I are stuck going tomorrow. It’s supposed to be nice. It’s a fancy thing, dinner and drinks. I figured you would be my date.”

You watch her turn off the car and think for a moment, the word “date” appealing to her a little bit, which is exactly what you had hoped.

“Come on. I missed you and I feel like shit and you’re… you’re all prickly. Can’t we just have a nice night in? I’ll make it up to you. I just want to take a nap.”

She seems to be thinking about it as she gets out of the car. You unbuckle your seatbelt and follow suit, walking around to her side and reaching for her hand. Tugging her closer, you wrap your other arm around her shoulders and kiss her on the side of her head with some force.

“Okay, okay…” she relents, leaning in to you.

“I love you. You’re still my Valentine, right?” you ask, nuzzling your nose into her hair and squeezing her tighter. It works up a little giggle out of her, which means you’re in the clear.

“I guess so. You didn’t even ask me.”

You squeeze her again, this time digging your fingertips into her sides to tickle another laugh out of her.

“It was on the card that came with the strawberries, obviously.” you quip, peppering her cheek and neck in kisses while she continues to soften up.

“Oh, get out of here. Go take your damn nap.” she says with a smile, turning you by the shoulders towards the house and pushing gently.

—

HER POV

You hear the soft padding of feet upstairs and the whip of the flat sheet as your bed is remade, pulling your attention away from your computer screen as you send off emails. The sun is set now, the room cast in darkness, and you figure Josh has slept off the fatigue that was a result of his medications. You gently close your computer, setting it next to you on the couch as you hear his feet walking slowly down the stairs. You turn to lay eyes on him, looking a little worse for wear in his low slung joggers, but still glowing as usual.

“Hey baby, you feel any better?” you ask, resting your chin on the back of the fluffy leather couch cushion.

“No. Not really, but it’s fine.” he pauses, reaching the landing and walking up to the back of the couch. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time, “You want to get ready, we can go grab dinner?” he asks, running a hand over his messy curls.

“I would love to, but are you sure you want to?” you ask, a little surprised that he actually wants to go out.

“Yeah, I have to eat with these antibiotics.” he says, pushing off the couch, and heading into the kitchen. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Um, I don’t know, twenty minutes or so?” you answer, standing quickly and grabbing your phone from the coffee table.

“Alright, I’ll be up there to change in a minute.”

You take the stairs two at a time, rounding the corner into your bedroom, and dashing into the closet. You finger through your hangers searching for the perfect outfit, the idea not occurring to you that you’d need one since he wasn’t even supposed to be home for Valentine’s day this year.

You pull a dark burgundy top from the hanger, the thick sweater material perfect for the cold snap that has swept over Nashville this week. You pull your t-shirt over your head and put it on while reaching for a pair of dark wash jeans. After shimmying into the denim pants, you find a pair of heels, kicking off your socks and securing the buckle at your ankle.

You make a mad dash into the bathroom, doing a quick version of your normal make up and running a curling iron through your hair. You’re spraying your wrist with his favorite perfume just as you see him walk past the bathroom door and into the closet. You can hear him changing clothes, grabbing his coat and pulling it over his arms as he steps into the bathroom and meets your gaze in the mirror.

“Wow, uh, you know it’s freezing out, right? Actually, colder than freezing.” he says, adjusting his sleeves.

“Yeah, I’ll grab my coat from the closet down stairs, no big deal.” you answer, walking towards him and shutting off the bathroom light.

“You sure you want to wear heels?” he asks, as he ushers you downstairs, a lilt in his voice.

You open the coat closet, grabbing your jacket and pulling it over your arms. “Yeah, why not?”

He throws his hands up, “Just asking…”

You grab your purse from the kitchen counter, following his lead out to the car. He makes a point to open your car door, shutting it behind you before skittering across the front of the car to join you.

With the turn of his keys, his Jeep roars to life, his fingers quickly pressing the buttons to turn on the heat. He puts the car in reverse, backing up enough to turn around in the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath his tires. He lays his hand over top of yours on your thigh, clasping your hand in his. He licks over his lips and turns to look at you.

“Hey,” he pauses, waiting until he has your attention. You let your eyes meet his, before he refocuses on the road. “I’m sorry about earlier… I just have a short fuse when I’m in pain. Thank you for taking me today, and thanks for taking care of me.”

“Oh, it’s– it’s okay, I know you don’t feel good. Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re here now, right?” you say, offering him a lopsided smile.

He pats your thigh as he drives down the road, leading you into town as he mouths the words to the songs playing through the speakers. Your heart flutters as you look at him, your head tilting back to rest on the headrest, just happy to be with him, and happy that he changed his mind about doing something tonight.

You’re quickly pulled from your daydreams as he whips the car into the parking lot of Phil’s Tavern, a local spot that is not exactly known for its phenomenal cuisine, sitting a whopping 5 minutes away from your home. You sit up a little straighter, making sure you’re seeing this right, and that he really is parking the car.

“Phil’s…” you question, turning to look at him.

“...Yeah? Did you want something else…?” he asks, as if annoyed you’d question his decision.

“You said– You– I thought we were going to dinner, not picking up sandwiches from the fucking neighborhood bar?!” you shout.

“I’m not getting a sandwich. I’m getting soup. You can get whatever you want.” he says, pulling his keys from the ignition, and opening his door.

A huff leaves your mouth as your jaw hangs slack, watching in shock as he shuts the door behind himself and makes his way to yours. He opens yours and offers you a hand to step down, but you’re still sitting in shock that this is his idea of a romantic Valentine’s day date.

“Josh…” you admonish, looking down at your heels and sweater.

“What? I asked you if you wanted to wear that and you said yes!” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah! I didn’t think we were going to fucking Phil’s, Josh! It’s Valentine’s Day! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t a lot of cars in the parking lot?!”

He clicks his tongue, and looks around. “Perfect, then we have the place to ourselves.”

Your eyes close on their own and you take a deep breath to keep yourself from having a meltdown. You grab your purse from the floorboard and grab his hand, stepping out of the car and snatching it away from him as soon as your feet hit the gravel.

He shuts the door behind you and locks the car, the two of you walking quickly into the dimly lit bar and grill. You walk up to the counter to order, watching as the bartender throws back a shot with the guys at the end of the bar. You catch his attention and he rushes over to the order counter pulling a pen out of his pocket. “What can I get ‘cha?”

“Hey man, can we uh– I’ll take the soup of the day, whatever it is is fine.”

“It’s ahh, it’s Chicken Tortilla.” he answers.

“Yeah, that’s great, thanks.” he answers, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “Babe?” he murmurs, wanting you to order.

“Okay, I’ll do a Cuban, extra pickles.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

He nods, “Outta Cuban bread, sorry sweets.”

“Okay I’ll do the Italian then.” you concede, watching him scribble it down on the notepad.

“You want that hot or cold?” he asks.

“Hot.”

“Think our press is down, but I can check.” he says, turning to shout towards the kitchen.

“It’s down, is cold fine?” he asks, him and Josh both staring at you.

“Fuck.” you mutter under your breath. “Yes, fine.”

“$17.97.” he says, ringing the service bell for the staff. Josh swipes his card through the card reader and puts it back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket before thanking the man at the counter.

“Oh shit, I didn’t tell him it’s to go. You don’t care if we take it home, right? It’s a little loud in here.” he doesn't give you a chance to answer before stepping back up to the window.

You pull your phone from your purse, opening Instagram to mindlessly scroll while you wait for your food, seeing story after story of the dates your friends are on, fueling your rage all the more. You didn’t care that you weren’t at a fancy restaurant. You didn’t care that you were having a sandwich. You cared that he seemingly didn’t care about how you were feeling. That it was just any other old day to him, simply because he didn’t subscribe to the holiday. But that didn’t mean you didn’t. You tried to see the bright side, that he was home, and that you were at least together, even if he was in a sour mood.

He steps back over to you, pulling his own phone from his pocket and sending a few texts. You can’t help but notice how carefree he is, completely unbothered and oblivious to how you’re feeling as you stand right next to him.

“You wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?” he asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket.

“What movie?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I don’t know, a documentary? We can find something, I’ll probably fall asleep watching it anyways.”

You huff out a laugh, “Of course. Yeah, whatever you want Josh.”

“What’s your deal tonight, Y/N, Jesus…”

You feel your blood boiling beneath your skin and just as you are about to unleash, the order bell rings and a brown paper bag is placed on the counter. Josh steps up and grabs it, pulling his car keys from his pocket and heading for the door, leaving you to follow behind him.

—

He pulls into the driveway rapidly, rocks flying as he throws the car into park. Shutting off the engine he pulls his keys from the ignition and grabs the brown paper bag from the center console. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll start the fireplace.”

You huff as you step out of the car, making your way up the walkway, pulling the sleeves of your coat over your hands. He unlocks the front door and places the to-go bag on the kitchen counter on his way to the living room.

You take off your coat and hang it in the closet, pulling your foot up to release the buckles of your heels, letting you drop back down to your normal height. You can hear him mumbling in the living room, clearly having a hard time getting the fire lit. You walk into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of red wine off the top of the fridge, and searching around the junk drawer for the corkscrew. It’s no time at all before you’re popping the cork out of the bottle and pouring the Merlot into a bulbous green colored wine glass.

He joins you in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink before looking over at you, starting to take the first sip of your wine. “Really? You’re serious…”

“Serious, what? About this glass of wine? Yeah, I am.” you quip, swallowing down the first sip.

“You’re really gonna drink my favorite wine, right in front of me when you know I can’t have any? What are you playing at tonight, Y/N?” he seethes, pulling his plastic container of soup from the bag.

“What am I playing at? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that just because you can’t drink, meant that I had to follow suit! My mistake!” you shout, setting the glass down on the marble countertop maybe a little more forcefully than you should have.

He shakes his head trying to rid the nasty thoughts you know are swirling around up there as he pulls a spoon from the utensil drawer. “Whatever, I’m gonna take this to the couch.”

You grab a plate from the cabinet in front of you, unwrapping your sandwich and placing it on the plate. You look over and see him tinkering with the TV remote, no doubt queueing up something the two of you have watched, studied, and rewatched a hundred times. You grab your wine glass and your plate and join him in the living room, setting your items on the coffee table before sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

The tension in the air is thick, neither of you wanting to say anything for fear of it turning into yet another argument. So instead, he presses play on the remote, and as suspected, ‘Kubrick by Kubrick’ begins to play for the 77th time in this household.

“Josh, really…” you whine, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I don’t want to get too invested in anything, I’m gonna pass out as soon as I finish this soup.” he answers, turning up the volume to effectively silence you.

“Can’t we watch something, I don’t know… With a plot? With a shred of romance? That we haven’t seen a hundred times?” you barter, talking over the intro music.

“Can’t you just let me enjoy being home for once?” he snaps, pressing pause on the remote.

Your eyes dial in on his, and almost poetically, you’re positive he can see the reflection of the flames in the fireplace dancing across your infuriated eyes.

“For once…” you breathe, biting your tongue. “Sure, sure. You uh– you just enjoy yourself, okay? I would hate to ruin your time at home with my presence.” you say, standing up from the couch with your wine glass in hand, leaving your sandwich laying there as you bound up the stairs.

Before you even reach the top you hear the music blare back to life, and the slurping of the soup from his spoon. If you had a bedroom door you would slam it but fucking of course, you don’t.

You place your wine glass on your nightstand before walking into your closet ridding yourself of the wasted outfit. You pull a slinky black satin slip from your pajama drawer, dropping it over your bare body before padding back out to the bedroom to close the curtains.

You draw back the fluffy flax colored duvet, thinking of nothing but positively melting into your olive green linen sheets; a Christmas splurge the two of you decided you couldn’t live without. Sinking down into the feather pillows you let out a sigh, finding yourself exactly where you expected to be tonight, before you ever knew Josh was coming home for a few days.

You settle in with your glass of wine and your kindle, reading love stories of men, who at this point, you were sure didn’t really exist. An hour or so later, when the wine was long gone, and the house had grown quiet you heard the front door lock, and the flick of the light switches downstairs. You switched off your lamp, hoping to avoid any further conversation for the night, placing your tablet on the nightstand and pulling the sheets up over your shoulders.

His footfall is light as he pads up the wooden stairs, rounding the corner hesitantly as he catches sight of you in the bed. He slides his hand down the wall as he enters the room, walking quietly into the bathroom and shutting the door. You can hear the sink running and the sound of him tossing his clothes into the hamper as you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

It’s not long until you hear the door open and feel the dip in the bed as he slides in behind you, a gentle sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the sheets. You feel the brush of his knuckles as they glide up your spine. “I know you’re not asleep, my love…”

Knowing you’re caught, you turn softly to your back, “No, you don’t know. I could have been.”

A soft smile forms on his lips, a few misplaced curls falling over his forehead, “Not true. I know you fall asleep with your arms over your head every single night. And in the middle of the bed. You never sleep on your side of the bed.”

“Well maybe I want to tonight.” you quip, rolling back to your side and repositioning the sheets.

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulls you towards him, his obviously nude body conforming to yours. You can feel him, hard against your back and you push away from him.

“Josh…” you scold.

“What, baby…” he asks, running his hand along the curve of your waist. “I miss you…”

“You didn’t an hour ago!” you sneer.

“Yes I did! I miss you all the time! Every single day I’m away from you. That’s why you moved in, remember? So I could spend every day with you when I’m home?” he pauses, “Every night like this?”

“Josh, I just– Tonight was… Well the entire day, really, was rough. I’m not exactly in a romantic mood at the moment.” you answer.

“Well that’s okay, you can just blow me instead.” he says, more of a demand than a question, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

“Oh can I?! How generous of you to offer that to me! What a privilege!” you mock. “You really have earned it, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this myself!” you scorn, reaching for his hand and shoving it towards his dick. “Try that instead!”

“Goddamn you’re being such a bitch!” he seethes, throwing the duvet off of himself and snatching his phone from the nightstand.

“Yeah! Happy Valentine’s day to you too, Josh!” you spit one last time as you watch him pull on a pair of boxers. He smooths his hand over his face and runs his tongue under his lips, looking at you one more time before stomping his way down the stairs.

—

JOSH POV

It took you approximately fourteen seconds after you said it to know you fucked up. It took you two more seconds to realize there was no coming back from it, at least that’s what you deduced as you tossed and turned on the living room couch all night. You spent those sleepless hours racking your brain for ways you could fix this. You were a dick, admittedly, in pain or not, and she in no way deserved the way you treated her.

You pulled your sore body up from the couch, tossing the throw blanket over the arm as you made your way up the stairs. She was still sleeping, sprawled across the middle of the bed with your pillow hugged to her face. You wished you could take back what you said. You wished you had taken her somewhere nicer than Phil’s. You should have known that when you saw her in heels and smelled your favorite perfume. She dressed up for you. But you couldn’t see past your own selfish needs. You only cared about yourself and what you wanted.

You kicked yourself the entire time you spent under the spray of the shower, knowing that of the three sporadic days you would spend at home with her, you’d let one go completely to shit. Then tonight, you’d spend the whole night schmoozing with label executives, where she would willingly stand in your shadow until it was time to go home.

Unless…

A smile spread across your face as you formulated your plan, and as you shut off the water and wrapped a towel around your waist you hoped and prayed it would work.

—

You rap your knuckles against the old wooden front door, peeking through the glass to see if there is any movement inside. It’s nearly noon and you know he’s in there, but whether or not he’s awake is the question. You shove your hands into your pockets, the cold air whipping through the porch a little too harshly for your liking.

You hear his footsteps bounding down the stairs and you see him appear through the glass, a strange look on his face as he opens the door.

“If you’re on my doorstep, you want something that a text wouldn’t cover.” he says, raising a brow.

“Can I not come visit my twin?” you ask, pushing past him into his warm house.

“No, I think your last words to me when we left the airport were ‘Fuck off, don’t call me, I’ll see you in three days’, but I could be mistaken.” he says, shutting the front door.

“Listen…” you counter, flopping yourself down onto his couch with a huff.

He stands across the living room with his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips. There’s something different about him, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Almost like a little bit of life has been breathed into him.

“Why do you look different…” you ask, the intrusive thought pushing through.

“I don’t.” he says, putting his hands on his hips. His eyes flick up to the window behind you, before looking back at you.

You cut your eyes at him, you can tell he’s not telling the truth but you let it go because you have more important issues to deal with.

“I need a favor.” you say, cutting right to the chase.

He raises his eyebrows signaling for you to continue.

“I need you to go to this event tonight in my place, I–”

“No.” he shouts, cutting you off.

“Jake, please. Y/N and I got in a huge fight and I have to make it up to her and I can’t if I have to go to this fucking thing tonight.” you explain, giving him the shortened version.

“No. Actually, my answer is not only no, but fuck no.” Jake stood with his arms crossed across his chest. You let your head flop back onto his couch, a groan leaving your chest.

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t fucking dire.” You plead. “I fucked up, and I have to make it right. Please Jake…”

“Jesus Christ, it’s Thanksgiving all over again. You know Josh, if you and Y/N didn’t fight like this every other day, I might be more willing to consider it. One day you’re gonna fuck around and lose her for good.” he says, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his chin. “Hold on, you two fought on Valentine’s day? Fuckin’ poetic. What did you do, buy the wrong flowers? The wrong chocolates?”

“No, I… Didn’t get her flowers.” you mumble, hoping he didn’t hear you.

“Okay, so no flowers. Did you take her out to dinner or something?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No, I mean, well, kind of.” you mumble again. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“Where did you take her Josh.” he demands, crossing his arms again.

“We went to Phil’s…And got…To-go…” you answer, realizing again as you say it out loud how bad it sounds.

“The fucking sandwich place Josh, you’re kidding me…” he spits, starting to pace around the room.

“Don’t act all high and mighty Jacob, you sat home alone...” you retort, knowing this isn’t helping your case.

He lifts his finger to you, pointing at you with a scowl, “Fuck you. Also, it sounds like she was justified. Didn’t she take you to the doctor yesterday? Hasn’t she been catering to your ass since we’ve been back?”

“Yeah.” you answer.

“And you didn’t plan a single thing at all…” he confirms.

“Correct.” you say, over enunciating the ‘T’.

“Asshole.”

“Okay, so you agree, I fucked up and need to fix this.” you say, gesturing with your hands. “So go to the event tonight in my place and let me smooth things over with Y/N tonight.”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I have plans.” he answers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Plans?! With who? You don’t leave your house!” you shout, seeing a blur of black fur and claws tear across the living room. “Jesus, I always forget you have that thing.”

“Yeah, I’m not keeping it.” he says, shaking his head. “And it’s none of your business. You’re going to that event. The label doesn’t care if you’re in a fight with your girlfriend. They are expecting you, and you are who they’re gonna get. Plus, Sam will be there so you don’t have to do all the talking. Take her with you, lay it on thick, and take her home. Things will blow over like they always do and you’ll be back to your 2AM facetime gushy bullshit in no time.”

“Fuck…” you sigh, laying down across his couch. “I just don’t think it’s gonna go that way. This was a bigger fight than usual.” you say, feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out to see your timer flashing, indicating it is time for your next dose of antibiotics.

You reach into your other pocket, pulling out the loose pill, and grabbing the glass of water you assume to be Jake’s from the coffee table. You swallow down the pill as he watches in contempt, checking the time on his phone.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, pacing around his living room.

“No. Guess fuckin’ not. What are you getting into today?” you ask, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I have… some errands to run. And a few other things.” he says, dismissively.

“Errands and a few other things? Who the fuck are you…” you ask, stretching your legs out on to the coffee table.

“I was about to take a shower, are you staying or going?” he asks, and as you lay your head back on the couch your eyes start to feel heavy.

“Just gonna rest my eyes for a minute.” you answer, getting more comfortable.

“Goddamnit, Josh… Okay, but you’re leaving when I do.”

—

The sound of the front door closing is what wakes you, and as you come to you see Jake standing in front of you with grocery bags, clearly back from his errands.

“Well, good morning.” he says, his tone a little snipped.

“Shit, what time is it?” you ask, pulling your phone from your pocket and checking the time. Fuck.

“Yeah, time for you to go the fuck home and get ready.” he says, making his way into the kitchen.

“Alright, I’m outta here, good luck with your… plans…” you smirk, making your way to the door.

“Don’t need luck, but sounds like you do. Fix it, Josh.” he says, pushing you out the front door and slamming it behind you.

—

HER POV

As you leave the house, you think back on how many hours it’s been since you spoke to Josh. He popped into the bedroom when he got home and let you know that you had to leave by 6 to get to the event on time, but you don’t really count that as a conversation. You hadn’t actually exchanged words since your argument before bed.

The two of you sit in complete silence as he drives, the radio turned down so low it’s barely audible. You hold your jacket close around you, unable to shake the chill from the awful cold snap plaguing Nashville.

As you arrive, Josh quickly gets out of his Jeep, jogging around to your door to open it and offer you a hand to step out. You accept it, begrudgingly, and steady yourself on the asphalt. You opted for smaller heels tonight, a little scorned from the night before. You look at him and see his slightly forced smile under the streetlight. He’s in his favorite brown suit, his hair in perfect curls, three tiny, metallic dots painted on the apples of his cheeks. He looks sinfully good, and if you weren’t so upset with him, you’d kiss him square on the lips.

“I know you don’t want to be here. Just… at least try to smile in the pictures, okay?” He says, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

You give him a little side-eye before starting to walk towards the front doors of the venue. He catches up with you after locking the car, his hand landing on your upper back as he ushers you into the front door he’s holding open for you.

The two of you wait in line for the coat check, your eyes scanning the lobby for anyone you may know. You don’t recognize anyone, so you shuffle ahead in line and keep your coat pulled tight around you. Once you’re a bit further up in line, almost to the front, you hear a familiar voice.

“Heeeeey guys!”

Sam’s arms wrap around both of you from behind, pulling you into a forced group hug. He unintentionally cuts the entire coat check line to stand with you and Josh.

“Hi Sammy,” you mumble, giving him a halfhearted smile. He looks to Josh, who forces a grin, his nose scrunching up in a way that makes it clear to Sam that the two of you aren’t getting along. It’s nothing new to Sam, so he shrugs it off.

The line moves again and you’re finally at the front. A friendly young girl is standing behind the podium at the entry to the closet, a few guys running back and forth to take coats and put them in their assigned spots. She offers the three of you a smile as she looks down and tears a tab in half.

“Can I take your coat, sir?” she asks Josh as you start to shrug your own off your shoulders.

“Ohoho, trying to get me out of my clothes, young lady? I just walked in the door!” he says, like he’s some sort of comedian. You roll your eyes so hard you think they may fall out of your head and fold your coat over your arm. She laughs, her cheeks turning pink as she accepts your coat instead. She dutifully hands the coat to the boy behind her, then offers the other half of the ticket up, between you and Josh for either to grab it.

“And now you’re trying to give me your number?” he jokes with a charismatic grin, seeing the number 107 on your ticket. She lets out a shameless giggle at that one and you can’t help but shake your head and walk away, uninterested in hearing any more of his god awful jokes. You arrived in a terrible mood and he’s already managed to make your night worse.

Passing through the entrance to the cocktail hour, you grab a glass of champagne and thank the server. Taking a big sip, you look behind you and see Sam and Josh approaching, Josh talking animatedly with his hands to Sam, but Sam is looking straight ahead. At you.

His eyes scan over your figure- you’re in a champagne satin mini-dress. The cowl neckline is loose, but the waist pulls in due to the lace-up back. The shimmery color is brought to life under the light right above where you’re standing. Sam isn’t listening to a single word Josh is saying, just nodding and staring at you from a distance as his steps slow.

It’s then that you cook up a terrible idea, if not the worst you’ve ever had. If Josh wants to treat you like he doesn’t care about you and put more romantic energy into the coat check girl than he’s shown you in days, you may as well give him a taste of his own medicine. Right?

Sam eventually pulls his eyes away from your body, nodding cluelessly at Josh. He can’t help it and looks back at you again, but this time, Josh’s gaze follows his. You sip your champagne, ignoring the way Josh’s eyebrows raise in surprise as his neck cranes forward slightly. You can read his lips as he says, “Jesus Christ.” and look away without giving him a reaction.

The two of them make their way over to the high top cocktail table you’ve claimed as your own. Josh clears his throat and musters up the courage to speak to you. His voice sounds like it might crack.

“I’ve never seen that dress. Where’d you get it?” he asks, giving you another once-over now that he’s closer.

“You sent it to me while you were in Paris for my birthday.” you answer dryly. “Or was that your assistant too?”

He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, realizing he’s just dug himself a little bit deeper.

“Come to think of it, Josh, have you ever bought me a gift yourself? Or do you just send the people that work for you on errands to ship me fancy baubles to keep me quiet and occupied while you’re away?”

He steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice.

“Do we have to do this here?” he pleads. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. You look beautiful. Okay? Let me go get you a drink. What do you want?”

You cut your eyes to Sam, who seems to be trying to occupy himself by staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a big sigh, you mumble back a tired, “Champagne,” to Josh.

He nods and walks off, heading for the bar. In the meantime, you look at Sam, who’s giving you a nervous smile.

“Sorry. It’s been… a rough few days.” You confess. “This ear thing has turned him into a jackass.”

“Oh, yeah. He complained the whole way home.” Sam says, commiserating.

“So it’s not just me?!” You laugh, Sam joining you.

“No no. Not just you.”

You notice Josh is on his way back and decide to test the waters. Reaching forward, you step closer to Sam and adjust the collar of his shirt under his suit jacket, your touch lingering as you let your hand brush down the front of his chest before tugging his jacket into place and pulling your hands back to yourself. You’re in close proximity, so you look up at him with a little bat of your eyelashes.

“Oh. Thank you!” He says, a little caught off guard, but he’s Sam, and he’s friendly, and you know he’s going to let you get away with it.

Josh appears and somehow squeezes his arm between you and Sam, placing your champagne on the table. He’s noticed the mischievous glint in your eye and it’s game on.

The event starts to pick up, more and more people roping Josh into conversations. It’s obvious that he’s the more recognizable of the two brothers there tonight, so you find yourself left standing with Sam on more than a few occasions.

“Did you trim your hair?” You ask him, reaching out to twirl the end of his shiny brown locks around your finger. He chuckles softly, feeling a little bashful. Josh is at your side but deep in conversation with a man you’ve never seen in your life.

“Yeeaaaaah, I did, it was getting a little unruly. Just trying to keep it healthy. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed, Sammy. Some people may not notice you. But I always do.” Your voice is syrupy sweet. You feel a nudge from the other side of you and Josh is clearly eavesdropping, his brain working overtime as he nods at the gentleman talking his ear off while also listening to you and Sam. Sam doesn’t notice and gives you a soft laugh, shrugging. His cheeks are tinted a little pink. He’s too easy.

“Why don’t we go find our table for dinner, hm?” Josh suggests, cutting his conversation short, which is just not in his character. You finish your last sip of champagne and leave your glass on the table.

“You heard him. C’mon, Sammy boy.”

You reach for his arm, linking it with yours. Josh gives you a look, but you usher him forward with a dismissive gesture. He glowers at you before walking toward the seating chart to see that the three of you are at table six. Sam follows along, his hand in his pocket as you hold on to his forearm.

You settle into the chair between Sam and Josh. You opt for the chicken when the caterers come around, and both Sam and Josh go for the fish. There are a few speeches that go on before your plates arrive, so you sit politely and listen, Josh’s back to you as the speakers present. Since Sam is behind you, there are a few points where you turn around to laugh with him about something the presenter says. Josh stays facing forward, effectively blocking the two of you out.

As your plates are delivered, everyone starts to eat, the table occasionally chattering, but it’s mostly quiet as some music plays.

“How’s the chicken?” Josh asks, trying to make small talk. You take a bite, nodding.

“Really good. And the fish?” You ask politely, but you don’t really care.

“Delicious. Do you want a bite?” He asks, gesturing to his plate with his utensils.

“Oh, no. No thanks.” You reply, turning away. He shrugs and goes back to eating his dinner, sipping his water.

“Do you wanna try a bite of the chicken, Sammy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. You give him a soft smile as he nods, swallowing his bite.

Cutting a piece, you lift your fork towards Sam and he instinctively opens his mouth. Your other hand comes up under his chin to make sure he doesn’t get any sauce on his jacket. He accepts the bite from your fork and chews, nodding.

“Oh, that’s really good. I should have gotten that.” He says, talking with his mouth full. It’s then that the stranger next to Sam interjects.

“How long have you two been together?” She says, a nosey but well meaning woman. Josh nearly chokes on his dinner, pulling his cloth napkin up to his mouth as he coughs. It’s such a distraction that you don’t hear what Sam says to her.

Once Josh stops coughing, he looks at you with a subtle anger behind his eyes.

“Can you stop? I get it. You made your point.” Josh grumbles through gritted teeth. You feign innocence, blinking at him with bullshit doe eyes.

“What point, Josh?”

“You’re flirting with my brother so blatantly that strangers think you’re dating. What the fuck am I supposed to do, just sit here and let it happen?”

Sam, realizing tensions are high, starts to stand up.

“I’m gonna go get some air…” he says, departing from the table like it’s on fire.

“I’m not flirting with him. I’m just being nice to him. You remember what that is, right? Being nice?” You say with an attitude, tilting your head as you wait for an answer.

“Cut it out.” He tenses his jaw and his mouth barely moves as he scolds you like you’re some kind of dog.

“Fuck you, Josh.” You’re not putting up with it for another second, so you push away from the table, grab your drink, and head in the direction Sam went.

As you sneak through the crowds and the bar lines, you check to see if Josh is following you, but he’s still seated at the table. You see Sam through the glass doors, standing under a tent that’s doing little to nothing to stop the wind, smoking a cigarette. Gently pressing against the push bar, you slip outside and approach him tentatively.

It’s quiet between the two of you as he gives you a smile that’s more of a grimace, though you know him and know that it’s not his intention.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, you know that, right?” He says, giving you a knowing smirk as he exhales some smoke. You sigh, kicking at a pebble beneath your feet. You hold your glass of champagne with both hands, your thumb nervously running along the side of it.

“I feel like I do. But sometimes I can’t help myself.” You peer up at him, a coy smile spreading across your face. He lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You two are a match made in hell,” he starts, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “But I can’t imagine him with anyone else.”

You roll your eyes. Lately you’ve been feeling like Josh doesn’t even want to be with you anymore, but it’s not like you would have time to even discuss splitting up in person, since he’s hardly around long enough. Instead of divulging any of that to Sam, you lift your head and step closer.

“Can I have a drag of that?” You ask, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You know how he is.” Sam says, well aware that the only thing Josh thinks it’s okay to smoke is not cigarettes.

“Just one.” You bargain, looking out at the parking lot for a moment, then up at him with doe eyes. He can’t help but smile at you in return.

“Don’t even touch it. He’ll smell it on your hands.” He jokes, turning it around in his fingers and holding it towards you. You tilt up your chin, smiling sweetly before he moves it closer to your pouty, glossy lips. Your eyes close gently and you start to inhale.

Within seconds, it’s pulled from your lips, and all you hear is Sam’s thick Michigan accent as he whines, “OWWWW!” your eyes shooting open.

“I will break every bone in your fuckin’ hand if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, Samuel.” Josh threatens, suddenly outside with the two of you on the patio. Sam grabs the cigarette from his restrained hand with his free one, dropping it to the ground and stepping on it with wide eyes.

Josh pushes his arm towards him as he lets it go and Sam nearly trips over himself, mumbling a startled, “Jesus Christ.” before adjusting his suit jacket and heading for the door.

“And you.” Josh is positively seething, as he steps up to you. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You nervously step backwards, leaning onto the railing behind you as he cages you in. “Josh, I’m–”

“Oh, it’s a little late for that, don't you think? I fucking warned you, Y/N.” His hand grips into your elbow, yanking your forward and dragging you behind him as you make your way back inside the building. “Get your fucking coat and meet me at the front door.” he says, releasing you as you enter back into the large crowd.

You walk back over to your table, collecting your bag and your champagne before rushing over towards the coat check. You hand the same girl your ticket stub, and you anxiously sip your champagne as you wait. You may have pushed him too far this time. Seconds later she returns with your coat, and you take it with a smile, pulling it over your arms and making your way to the front door.

Josh is waiting, chewing a piece of gum a little harsher than necessary. His jaw is hard set and his cheeks are pink and you know this does not bode well for you. As you approach him he offers a small wave and a smile to someone behind you, before letting his eyes drift back to yours, full of fury, the tension returning to his body.

“Oh, so you can listen.” he says, yanking the large glass door open, both of you being hit with the cold outside air. You step out the door and begin the walk to the car, clutching your jacket close to your body. Your teeth chatter as the wind hits you, your whole body shivering.

“What, are you cold in that slutty little dress?” he asks, walking a little too quickly for you to keep up with him. “Seemed just fine on the patio with Sam. Suck it up and keep walking.”

He turns his head looking back at you as you try to drink down the rest of your champagne. He reaches for the glass, ripping it from your hand and tossing it into the bushes. You hear the glass shatter and you’re a little taken aback. You’ve never seen him this mad before, and you hate that you kinda like it.

“Josh!” you shout, you cheeks heating at his aggressiveness, and you think the alcohol in your system is to blame for that.

“What has gotten into you, Y/N?! You think– You think you can just go around acting like a little slut at my work events? With my fucking brother? Do you know how that looks!?” he shouts, as you round the corner, steadily approaching the car. He is still chewing the gum too hard, hoping it will relieve some of the tension pulsing through his body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Josh, I think the pain meds are making you crazy.” you scoff, completely brushing off his accusations, even though he is completely right.

“Oh, fuck offff…It’s not the pain meds, it’s you! You’re making me fucking crazy! Running around like a little trollop just to make me irate for sport!” he yells, his midwestern accent peeking out in his anger.

He reaches for the door handle, yanking it open to let you step in, regardless of how angry he currently is. As you position yourself in the seat you turn to look at him, ready to deliver another snarky comment but as you open your mouth he cuts his eyes and slams the car door closed. You huff and fasten your seatbelt as he joins you on the other side.

He starts the car and peels out of the parking spot, spinning the tires as he pulls out onto the main road. Your hands grasp at the door handle for stability, his expression unwavering as he continues to blow down the backstreets of downtown Nashville.

“Josh, I–”

“No. Silence. Don’t say another fucking word until I speak to you first. Got it?” he snaps, the fury is thick in his voice.

You cross your arms over your chest, debating whether or not to taunt him further. As if he can hear your thoughts he turns to you, speaking through clenched teeth.

“Not. A. Fucking. Word.”

The rest of the drive home was spent in silence, and you could tell he was compiling his list of your transgressions. You knew that the second the front door shut behind you he was going to unleash every bit of it on you, and to be quite honest, you couldn’t wait.

Once he tears recklessly up the driveway, he kills the engine and the headlights. Throwing open the door, he slams it behind him and makes his way around to the passenger side. Despite his burning anger, he’s still insistent on opening your door for you. He offers you a hand and when you take it, you feel how warm he is to the touch. Hopping down to the ground, he lets you steady yourself, then tugs your hand so you’re forced to walk in front of him. He lets go once he knows you’ve gotten the hint and start off wobbling through the gravel in your heels like a baby deer as he locks the car.

You wait next to the front door, knowing Josh has his keys and you opted to leave yours at home to save space in your clutch. He ignores you, his jaw still working overtime on the probably stale gum in his mouth, turning the key in the lock and pushing into the house. He leaves the door open for you to follow him in, so you do, shutting it gently as you slip off your heels.

He tosses his keys onto the dining table and you watch as they slide to a halt as he rids himself of his suit coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. You make a move towards the closet, ready to hang your own coat but as you walk he steps in front of you, snatching the thick black fabric from your hands to throw it over the same chair. He stares at you with a hardened jaw, his face and ears red as he prepares for his onslaught, and as a small grin turns up the corner of your lips you see his anger tip the scales to catastrophic.

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up, Josh. If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re acting a bit jealous. Or threatened, maybe?” you pause, tapping your finger to your chin. “Yeah, I think threatened is the right word. Are you nervous little Sammy is gonna steal your spotlight and your girl?”

“Steal my spotlight?” he responds, scoffing. It’s clear you hit a nerve there. “You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut. Especially when it comes to things you know nothing about.”

“I know how many people were bumping elbows with him tonight, talking about his upcoming projects, barely even asking about the album. He’s got his own career now.” you double down, narrowing your eyes at him, twisting the knife. He steps closer to you, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. You know he’s about to lay into you for that.

“You should be grateful I even let you tag along to these fucking things.” he snaps, his voice raising. “You know, there’s a hell of a lot you should be grateful for, now that I think of it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to find a nice, quiet girl who waits patiently for me to come home and doesn’t spend every waking moment reminding me of my shortcomings?”

You don’t like the direction he’s taking this, and you’re realizing you may have pushed him a little too far.

“I could go down the line and pick any one I wanted, but I still come home to you. And this is what I have to put up with?”

“So do it then! Go ahead and take your pick!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air. His cheeks grow red, and his eyes narrow.

“But you won’t, will you Josh... Because you know that not a single one of them will stick around once they find out how you really are. When they find themselves home alone night after night. When you don’t speak to them for days at a time when you’re writing or on the road. When you miss their birthday… and every major holiday for that matter. When they find out that your idea of love and romance is having your assistant buy hush gifts you can’t be bothered to choose yourself. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one texting me from your phone, too!”

He slams his fist down on the dining table, his keys rattling against the wood. “That is not true, and you know it!”

“But it is, and you know who puts up with it? Me, because I love you. And I can promise that you’ll be hard pressed to find someone else who is willing to deal with all of that.”

“Dare me?” he challenges, wincing slightly as the pressure builds in his ear.

“I don’t know Josh, is that what you want? Wouldn’t say I’d be surprised with how you’ve been acting lately.” you say, pushing away from the kitchen table and walking further into the house.

“How I’ve been acting lately?” he scoffs, following after you, hot on your heels.

“Yeah! Like I’m such a burden to bear. Like you’d rather I wasn’t here. I’m practically your glorified assistant, or arm candy when you feel like dragging me along.”

You start to climb the stairs toward your bedroom, needing to get out of your dress and away from him. Unfortunately, Josh isn’t one to ever let you have the last word, and he starts bounding up the staircase after you.

“Is that what this is about? You’re still mad you had to bring me to the doctor? God forbid I ask you to do something besides complain and spend my money. I needed your help, because if you haven’t noticed, something pretty serious happened to me, but for some reason you won’t stop giving me a hard fucking time about it!” That comment about the money stops you in your tracks, leaving you glaring down at him on the step below you.

“It’s not about your money and it’s not about me having to help you. It’s about you not giving a shit about how I feel and blowing me off when I try to tell you. All I want is for you to care! Have we grown so far apart that seeing me upset doesn’t even phase you anymore?”

Josh runs his tongue over his teeth as he tries to conjure up a response. He steps up so he’s on the landing with you, a little bit of silence settling over you both.

“And you thought…” he starts, looking out the window behind you for a moment, then back to your eyes. “You thought the way to get me to care… was to behave like a little slut?”

The energy suddenly shifts between you. You know that in the silence, he must have had a realization that he’s not meeting your needs. You feel your mouth go a little dry and you take a step backwards, reaching to hold on to the railing.

“I–”

“You know what I think…” he says, moving closer, caging you in with his arms. “I think that I’ve been gone too long…” his breath is hot on your cheeks. “I think you’re due for an attitude adjustment.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you grip into the bannister. You swallow nervously, as his hand moves to meet your satin covered waist. “Yeah, I think I need to remind you just how good you have it, don’t I sweetheart?”

The words are there, swirling through your head but as his eyes peer into yours, nothing seems to come out.

“S’matter, baby? Nothin’ to say suddenly? No smart ass remarks? I’m right, aren’t I? You need me to fuck some sense into you?” he growls, his fingers gripping into the curve of your waist. He nods his head in the direction of your bedroom, a crooked smirk on his face.

“Go ahead and take off your earrings, baby. Get out of that unbecoming little dress and wait for me on the bed.” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before walking off and locking himself in the bathroom.

The cocktail of emotions your brain is floating in has you dizzy. You want to be angry at him, but you’re starting to feel a little embarrassed as you think back on how you acted at dinner. Part of you wants to cry, his harsh words hitting you where he knew it would hurt, but another is so turned on by the way he just flipped the switch on the entire emotionally charged exchange.

You shuffle into your shared bedroom, sitting gingerly at your vanity and taking off all of your jewelry. As you take off your rings, you stare at the earrings and necklace in your porcelain dish, remembering when he had gifted each piece to you. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t care how long or how often he’s away…he just doesn’t know how to make it better. So he sends you trinkets from wherever he visits, reminding you that you’re on his mind. Your heart lurches as you realize that maybe all he wanted while he was away from home was a quiet dinner with you, his love, at Phil’s, and that’s why he didn’t take you out to an expensive steakhouse where you would undoubtedly sit awkwardly across from each other and make conversation. He wanted comfort. He wanted what he knows no other woman can give him.

You hear the water start to run, which zaps you back into the moment. Standing from the velvet upholstered stool, you head for the walk-in closet and try to reach for the zipper on your dress. You can’t exactly get to it, stretching to try and pinch the zipper between your fingers. The bathroom door opens and you whip your head around, knowing he’s going to come looking for you.

It’s only seconds before you feel his warm hands gliding across your hips, no doubt knowing you need his help with the zipper. Perhaps that’s why he purchased the dress to begin with. Knowing he would be the one to help you take it off. He moves your hair, laying it all to one side of your neck before pressing his lips to your skin. His fingers pinch the small zipper as he slides it down, letting the silk dress flutter down around your ankles.

“Tell me you know that I love you.” he breathes, his lips brushing against your neck.

“I know you love me.” you answer, breathless as your chest heaves.

His hands slide around to your bare stomach, pulling your body back until you’re flush with his own. “Now, tell me you’ll remember that.”

“I’ll remember.” you whisper, feeling him long and hard as he rests against your back.

He grabs your hips and spins you around to face him, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Good, because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

A gasp leaves your chest as your eyes meet his, dark and blown out. He drags his thumb over your lips, smearing the remnants of your pink lipstick across your chin. “Now get on the bed like I told you the first time.”

Reluctantly pulling away from him, you make your way back into the bedroom, kneeling on the bed, sitting on your heels. You nervously cover your chest with your hands, the room feeling a little cold all of the sudden. He steps into the room, his hand lingering on the doorframe.

“Move your hands,” he says, his voice quiet but stern. “You wanted the entire dinner table to see them. Why can’t I?”

Your cheeks burn red as you lower your hands to your lap. He approaches, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he’s appraising you.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” he asks, pushing your hair behind your ear. “My brother?”

You quickly start to shake your head. Maybe a little too quickly. You watch him with careful eyes as he lets his hand gently graze your throat, then move further down, the gears in his head turning.

“I bet you wanted him to, though…” he adds, pinching at your nipple teasingly, wanting a reaction. You take in a sharp breath between your teeth.

“No.” you say defensively.

“You like Sam because he’s so sweet. He cares. That’s what you want, right? Someone to wipe away your tears when you cry about meaningless shit? You know that’s his specialty.”

“I don’t like Sam. I just wanted–”

“Save it.” Josh snaps, grabbing harshly at your cheeks to shut you up. He stares at you for a moment before placing a gentle kiss to your squished lips. He pulls away quickly, but doesn’t release his grip on your cheeks.

“If you want to act like a little whore, I’m going to treat you like one. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll tell you.”

He pushes you backwards as he releases his hand, landing you in the pile of soft feather pillows behind you. He stands up from the bed, shimmying off his boxers before crawling back onto the bed in front of you. His eyes meet yours and for a second there is a softness there, almost as if he is asking if you’re okay with this. You offer him a subtle nod before he lowers his head and begins to drag his nose up the length of your leg.

“Did you have fun tonight, flitting around the place, drink in hand, practically begging to be fucked in the bathroom? Hm? Is that what you wanted?” he asks, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You squirm beneath him as the filthy words leave his angelic lips. “Did you want him to take you away and fuck your stupid little brains out? Answer me.”

“No.” you reply, desperate to feel his lips on your body. “I… I wanted…” you stammer, your bravery leaving you with every shaky breath. He places an open mouthed kiss to your mound, but freezes once your words trail off.

“You never stop talking, but now you’re at a loss for words? Fucking say it, Y/N.”

“I wanted you!” you cry out, your head falling back onto your pillow, a heavy sigh leaving your chest. He squeezes the softness of your thigh before he speaks.

“And you really thought that would work?” he asks, nipping at your soft skin, chuckling quietly. “You’re dumber than I thought.”

You feel your skin grow hot at his words, your hips jerking upwards on their own accord.

“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I call you my stupid little girl?” he asks, sucking a mark into your thigh. “My dumb little brat?”

A whine leaves your chest as you feel his tongue slowly start to slide through your folds.

He pulls away from you, “Ah, ah… Be quiet, remember? I know it’s hard for you to do as you’re told, but if I have to remind you again you aren’t going to like what happens.”

You stifle your moan and move your hips as his hands hold you in place, his tongue reconnecting with your core as he makes slow, languid laps against you. “Did I leave this pretty pussy too long? Does she miss me and need my attention?”

He moves his hands to let his thumbs spread you further, swirling his tongue over your clit. “I think she misses me so bad that it’s got you acting crazy, my love.” His lips suction against you, sucking you into his mouth with a lewd slurp. His hands slide up to your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His tongue grazes your entrance, dipping in just long enough to tease you. He presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away again.

“You must be crazy if you think my brother could do even half of what I do to you. No one, no one, treats this pussy like I do. Worships this pussy like I do.”

“Josh…” you whine, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it.

You feel a sharp flick to your clit and you cry out, your body jumping in response.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” he says, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit, as if to soothe the pain he inflicted. You feel a rush of warmth at your core, your body responding positively to his actions.

“Oh, baby, fuck…” he groans, sliding his fingers thorough the wetness. “But you do like it. You love it.” He pauses, locking eyes with you. “Answer me.”

“I–Yes…” you breathe, feeling his smile against your core.

“My dirty, sweet, baby likes a little pain with her pleasure.” he growls, sliding a finger inside of you. You clench around it, desperate for more. “Yeah? More? You want two or three?” he asks, his eyes flicking to yours.

“T-Three.” you beg, breathless as you feel him slide in two more.

His lips find your clit again, suckling the sensitive nub into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it again and again as his fingers work you from the inside. The pressure is growing and you know you’re close. He must feel you fluttering around him, so he pulls his fingers and mouth away from you quicker than you can blink.

“Nu-uh. Not until I say so, and I do believe I’d like to get mine first tonight... You know, for my troubles.”

A huff leaves your chest as you look at him, sitting back up to rest on his heels.

“You know baby, I think I’m feelin’ a little reckless tonight...I’m thinkin’ maybe we skip the condom, what do you say?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, Josh always having been completely adamant that you use protection. Always. Despite being on birth control. You can count the number of times you’ve gone without a condom on one hand over the three years you’ve been together.

“Are–Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah, I think you need the full effect… need to really feel me so you can remember your place. Remember why you count down the days until I come home.” he says, fisting his base.

“Although,” he says thoughtfully before pausing. “… if I’m going to fuck you like a whore, I’m gonna have to wear one. Standard procedure, you understand…” he mumbles, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling a silver foil package from the drawer. You feel your heart drop as he rips it out of the package and effectively rips the opportunity away from you. A quiet, disappointed whine leaves your throat.

He clicks his tongue as he watches your face drop, “Aw, what is it? Did you want my cock?” he asks, a smug grin on his face. “If you behaved yourself I probably would have given you what you wanted. It’s a shame, really.”

“Please…” you whine, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears in the corners of your eyes.

“Oh she’s begging for it. God, you really are so sweet when you want to be.” he says, rolling the condom over his cock.

“Josh come on, please!” it’s a pathetic whine as it leaves your mouth, but you don’t care.

His hand collides with the side of your hip, a loud smack ringing through the room. “Don’t be a little brat. You’ll take what you’re given.”

A whimper leaves your lips as the sting sets in. “That hu—”

“What? Hurt? That’s typically the point, love.” Your hips jerk up towards him, his abs peeking through as he leans towards you. “Now, do you understand?”

You nod your head as he lowers his, pressing his lips to yours. His perfect heart shaped lips capture yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth with fervor. Your hands come up to wrap around his waist, his skin soft and smooth beneath your hands. You feel his muscles tense under your touch as he ruts his hips, dragging himself against you, the sound of the latex audible as you try to angle yourself so he’ll slip inside you.

“So impatient…” he chides, sucking his teeth as he hovers his lips just above yours. He decides to take mercy on you, letting himself start to slide inside with ease. You cup his cheek, kissing him tenderly, a silent thank you. You feel the heat building in your abdomen again, half the battle won after the way he edged you previously.

“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” he asks, pushing in to the hilt before slowly pulling out again. “You gonna settle down now that you’re feeling nice and full?” he asks, and you respond with a shake of your head. “No?” he questions, surprised. He fucks into you slowly, deeply. You feel every inch of him that you’ve missed… but it’s not the same.

“No…I wanted you to take it off…” you whine. He shakes his head, a little chuckle leaving him.

“You’re in no place to make demands. I’m gonna get mine, toss it in the trash, and leave you wishing it was dripping down your thigh. And if you’re smart, you’ll say thank you.”

You feel yourself clench around him at his cruel words, making him smirk. So he carries on, picking up his pace as he grips into the softness of your thighs.

“But you’re not, are you?” he taunts, lowering his head to kiss and suck at your collarbone. “Can’t be if you pretended to be interested in my idiot brother. You’re mine. What do I have to do to get it to stick in that little brain of yours?”

You whisper his name, closing your eyes as your cheeks turn pink, his insults both embarrassing you and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I told you I’m getting mine first. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns, his palm landing on the pillow next to your head as he rests his weight and increases his range of motion. As he moves faster, his thrusts become more brutal as he starts to knock the wind out of you. It’s getting harder to keep yourself from losing it, your thighs starting to quiver.

He feels it, because he always does, but you can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want to stop. He curses breathlessly and pulls out, his hand leaving your hip and moving down to stroke himself, but he lets out a grunt and pushes up to sit on his heels, looking down at himself.

“...Fuck.”

He wraps his arm under your thigh and tugs you closer, urgently, and sheathes himself inside so quickly you cry out.

“Oh, baby. You feel like fucking velvet.” he moans, his head falling back, his moans bouncing off the ceiling. When he pulls back, something feels… different. “Looks like you got what you wanted after all…”

He sits back again and pulls out of you, resting his hands on his thighs as he takes a deep breath like he needs to get himself under control. Sitting up on your elbows, you look down at him between your thighs to see the condom has not just broken, but torn. It’s more than halfway down his shaft, which explains why he felt so slick and warm inside you.

“Oh…” you say softly, your lips parting. You stare at him above you, his chest rising and falling, his eyes heavy as they lock onto yours. He lifts one hand, motioning you forward with two fingers, and you know exactly what he wants.

“On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate to roll onto your side and stand from the bed, dropping to your knees with your hands in your lap. He watches as you go, waiting until you’re in position to stand himself and approach, raking his hand through your hair almost affectionately. You keep your eyes on him, the way he’s hard and straining against the useless condom.

“Does being on your knees hurt, little slut? Or is that right where you belong?” he asks, resting the tip of his cock against your lips. “Open.”

You stick out your tongue, dragging it against the bottom of his tip.

“More.” he demands, pushing his hips forward. You open your mouth wider as you move to reach up and touch him, but he immediately tells you, “No.”

Your eyes look up at him, brows furrowing in curiosity as you question silently whether or not he’s going to take the condom off.

It’s sudden and shocking when he answers your question, grabbing the back of your head and shoving himself in deep. You feel him against your tongue, tasting the lube and feeling the latex on the front end of your tongue.

He starts to thrust so quickly, you reach for his thighs to try and push him back. He doesn’t seem to care, almost relishing in your struggle, his fist tightening in your hair. As a gag works its way up your throat, he pulls you off of him, gasping for air, saliva dripping down your chin and neck.

“How’s it taste, baby?” he asks, tugging your hair, making you look up at him through bleary eyes, trying to catch your breath. As you open your mouth to answer, he fists himself, shoving himself back into your mouth. You gag immediately and he pulls out, your mouth open as you try to breathe. He doesn’t let you, though, grabbing your jaw and spitting directly into your open mouth.

“You better think twice before you complain.”

You snap your jaw shut, swallowing thickly, your eyes popping back open to look up at him in shock. He gives you a crooked smile, pleased with the way he’s managed to throw you off. It only encourages him as you look up at him with wide eyes and try to catch your breath. He quirks a single brow, then runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Nothing to say?” he asks, challenging you. You shake your head once.

He pushes the head of himself back inside your mouth, then spits again, making you flinch as it lands on your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed, intending to hollow out your cheeks and suck, but he pulls himself out with a pop and drags his cock through the spit on your face, chuckling.

“You’re starting to smarten up.” he mumbles. “Little brat.”

He taps the tip of his cock harshly against your lips and you can see the wheels spinning in his head as he plans his next move. “Back on the bed, all fours.” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the bed.

You immediately pull yourself from your aching knees and scramble onto the bed, positioning yourself on all fours, just as instructed. You feel the bed dip behind you and you turn your head, seeing the remnants of the condom still intact around him. He makes no effort to remove it, wearing it like a trophy as his hands find your hips. His left hand slides up the curve of your back before pressing a palm to your spine, a silent order to arch a little further.

“You’re trembling. You want it so bad don’t you…” he growls, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Want to feel my nice warm cock inside you…Nothing but me and you…You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby…”

“Yes.” you breathe, almost a whisper.

“I shouldn’t…I should put a new one on right now.” he says, the clench of his jaw audible.

He thrusts himself inside of you, the barrier of latex gone between the two of you, letting you feel every ripple and vein of his perfect cock inside of you. It nearly takes your breath away as his hips slam into you. A groan leaves his chest as his hands grip into your hips, and you can feel his hot breath on your back.

His hips crash violently into yours, his pillow soft tip grazing your cervix with every stroke. He’s struggling to keep his composure, it's evident with his erratic breathing and the stuttering of his hips.

You clench around him, a whimper falling from his lips in response, briefly breaking the facade he’s chosen for the evening. “Fuck, Y/N… I– I fucking hate you. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

A pang shoots through your chest, you feel the tension in your stomach start to build as you flutter around him. “I hate that I can’t live without you. I hate how much I love you. You–I can’t deny you anything…Not ever…” he pauses, his chest heaving. “Can’t you see that?”

“Josh…” you beg through panting breaths.

“Not yet, you’re gonna wait. Wait until I say, yeah? Can you wait like my good girl?” he says, struggling to stave off his own release.

“I– I can’t…” you whine.

“You will.” he demands, punctuating his sentence with his hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, swear to god I’m gonna– fuck…”

“Josh please, please!” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“My little slut begging to cum, oh you’re a fucking vision… My angel…” he pauses, sliding his hand around your waist and pinching your nipple between his fingers. You tighten around him and you hear him hiss in response. “Oh goddamn, you’re not a fucking angel though, are you… You’re straight from hell.”

His hips start to falter, and you can tell he’s close. You turn your head to look at him, his hair wild and sweaty against his temples, his jaw hanging slack as he watches himself fuck you. His eyes flick up to meet yours, they are dark and his pupils are wide as a slight smile turns his lips.

“I know I said I was going to get mine first, but you’ve been such a good girl for me. Go on, cum baby. Cum right on my cock, wanna feel you give yourself to me.” he says, nodding his head.

His permission throws you right up into the sky, your release washing over you so forcefully that your arms give out below you, sending you tumbling into the sheets. His hands hold you up as he continues to fuck you through it, curses and praise falling from his swollen pink lips.

As if your bliss fueled his own, you feel him pull your hips back firmly against him, a groan exploding from his chest once he can’t hold on any longer. You feel his cock twitching, his release beginning to spill inside of you as your name falls from his lips. You clench around him and he rapidly pulls out of you, fisting his cock as his cum continues to spill, painting hot white streams across your back.

The room is quiet, just the sounds of the two of you attempting to catch your breath. His hand slides up over the curve of your ass, his fingertips catching a drip of his cum before it falls to the sheets below you. His hand reaches around smearing his fingers across your lips, and you can hear him snickering as he leaves his release behind. “A much better shade on you, darling.”

With a smack of your ass you feel him step off of the bed, padding towards the bathroom. “Stay there, don’t move. I don’t want a mess on the sheets.”

You stay put, frozen as you lean down on your elbows and rest your chin in your palm. He comes back out of the bathroom a moment later in his robe and saunters to the stairs. You hear his footsteps slowly descending the steps, the occasional squeak indicating how far away he is.

You figure he’s heading to get you a towel from the dryer, so you just sigh and bide your time, feeling the wetness on your back start to get a little cold as the air moves through the room. In the silence, you hear a cabinet opening… then a cup being placed on the counter. Your lips part in shock as you realize he’s downstairs making a drink while he leaves you here, messy and exposed. The cherry on top of the punishment he’s dealt you this evening.

It’s a good, long while before he comes back up the stairs, again, at a leisurely pace. He softly pads across the room, then steps into your line of sight, putting a mug down on the nightstand. He made himself a cup of tea?

You sigh, looking at him flatly, a little tired of the game at this point. He steps into the bathroom again, this time reemerging with a warm, wet towel. He approaches the bed and kneels over you, gently wiping you clean as silence settles over you both.

“I made you some tea. In case I was a little rough on your throat.” he says quietly. “I figured I owe you a drink after throwing yours into the bushes.” His tone conveys that he’s remorseful, his voice back to its unique, charming timbre. “Listen, I didn’t mean to get so… worked up. You were right when you said I was threatened by Sam, and I just kind of lost control.”

You hum softly, resting your head on the pillow and looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes soft and tired.

“I’m sorry I pushed you that far…” you say quietly, your voice hoarse. He tosses the towel towards the hamper, standing from the bed. He leans down and places a kiss to your temple as you lay all the way down, just as your back starts to hurt.

You hear him opening your dresser drawer and soon enough he’s back at your side, placing a set of silky, cream colored pajamas and a pair of underwear near your head. He kneels at your bedside, resting his head on the bed to look at you where you lay.

“I picked these out for you when we were in Glasgow. There was this little boutique near the hotel that caught my eye. It was after dinner one night and I tried to call you but the time difference was making a mess of things…I couldn’t get ahold of you and I was just feeling lonely… so I took a walk and decided to pop in. I saw them and thought of you immediately. Thought of how they’d feel when I got back home and in bed with you.” he confesses, petting your hair the whole time he speaks. There’s almost a sadness to this story that makes guilt bubble up in your chest. You accused him of never calling, rarely thinking of you, and sending his assistant off to buy you meaningless gifts. The thought of him hand picking it for you while he was feeling lonely thousands of miles away breaks your heart.

“I’m sorry I said all that stuff. About the gifts. That was admittedly pretty awful of me.” you squeak out, feeling ashamed of the way you acted and who you painted him to be. “I’ve been really hard on you.”

“Hard on me?” he asks, a breathy laugh rumbling through him.

“I just… I haven’t been really considerate about your ear and the stress you’re under and I think I’ve been feeling neglected in a way, so instead of trying to fix it, it was just easier to put all of the blame on you and lose sight of the sacrifices you make for me every day. For us.”

He shakes his head, unwilling to let you accept all the blame. “I haven’t exactly made things easy on you…” he says, his voice a little small. “I think–no, I know I can do more. I will do more. I fucked up yesterday baby, and I’m sorry. I should have planned something nice. You deserve that. And I’m sorry about tonight, fuck, I’m just sorry for all of it. I love you and I need you and I’m just really, really sorry.”

He stands from his place on the side of the bed, watching you as you slide into your silky pajamas. He tosses his robe to your vanity chair and joins you on the other side of the bed, pulling back the linen sheets and sliding in next to you.

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I was a brat, and I’m sorry I used Sam to get under your skin. I just– I wanted your attention…and I know it was stupid and immature… I just needed to know you still cared, even just a little bit. I wanted to see it.” you pause, looking into his dark brown eyes.

“And last night, you just wanted a night in and I was…less than agreeable. I wish we could do it over. You just wanted your comfort food and your favorite movie, home alone with me…but I couldn’t see that. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re doing your best and I’m sorry I was ungrateful. I’m happy that you were even home. I’m happy I can take care of you while you’re here.” you say, moving closer to him in the middle of the bed. “I missed you last night…”

He props himself up on his elbow, his cheeks still a little pink from earlier, and in the dim light of the lamp he is glowing. “I missed you too baby, I knew I fucked up before I even got out of the room. I should have never said that to you. Not ever. Can you forgive me?” he asks, letting his free hand slide across the sheets and grab yours.

“Can you forgive me?” you ask, letting your glassy eyes meet his.

“Baby…” the word is a breath from his lips. You reach for him as he wraps his arms around you. You cradle his head in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in and you know all is forgiven between the two of you. You scratch his scalp and pet his velvety shaved sides, holding him close enough that you can feel his heart beating.

“Can I make you that soup you like tomorrow? With the kale and the carrots…” you ask, a whisper against his temple. You feel him nod, a small hum leaving his chest.

“And I still have that sourdough starter that Jake gave us… I can make some bread with it? Does that sound good?” you ask, feeling his grip on you tighten.

“Oh my god, that starter. Have you been feeding it like he said!? I completely forgot!” he gasps.

You laugh hard enough that it shakes your chest, “Of course I have. He would be so sad if I let it die.”

You feel his body relax against you again, “Do you know how much I love you?” he asks, turning his head to face you.

You feel your skin blush as he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration. “A lot?”

“More than that.” he smiles, his cheek dimple peeking out just a touch. You can hardly stop yourself from pressing your lips to it, your favorite thing.

“I love you, alot.” you reply, peppering his face with kisses.

“But there is something that I want to talk to you about…” he says, his voice growing a little more serious.

“W-what?” you ask nervously, pulling away just a little.

“I know you’ve been so excited about coming to Spain in a few weeks…And I’ve really been looking forward to it too…” he starts, and you feel your heart drop. Is it canceled? Does he not want you to come?

“Yeah…” you breathe, anxious to hear what he’s about to say.

“So, you know it’s been a long time since we’ve toured over there, and our normal coordinator isn’t able to make it, so we are using a secondary coordinator…It really throws a wrench into everything. Things are going to be really shaky those first few days with the jet lag and all of that. I just– I know that it’s gonna be super crazy, and I feel like we probably won’t be able to spend much time together while we get the tour stuff sorted out.” he pauses, and you feel your eyes well with tears. “I just don’t want you to come and feel ignored...”

“So I’m not–”

His face softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, “So, I went ahead and booked us flights to go a whole week early, just me and you. Found us a quiet little place on the water right outside of Barcelona. It has a big open porch and a giant bed. It’s so beautiful and I know you’re going to love it. We can do whatever you want, just you and I.” He kisses your forehead before he continues.

“And before you ask, yes, your boss already knows. I wanted to surprise you when we left, but I figured you would be suspicious that the rest of the guys wouldn’t be with us in the airport. I was planning to tell you tonight when we got home, but we saw what happened…” he smiles, his eyes positively sparkling. “So, how does that sound, my love? Will you come with me?”

Tears rush to your eyes. You were so prepared to be disappointed again that they were already on their way and this sealed the deal.

“That sounds so perfect,” you manage to squeak out as he wipes away an errant tear sliding down towards your pillow. When he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you can feel him smiling against your lips. “My coworkers are going to kill me for going on a two week vacation during tax season…”

“I’m sure they’ll be okay.” he says, brushing it off with a soft laugh. “They probably ate your strawberries yesterday, so you can call it even.” You suck your teeth at that, lips parting in shock.

“They better not have! I’m out for one day and the wolves descend?”

“I’m sure they’ll be there waiting for you Monday.” He soothes, pulling the sheets and comforter up higher over the both of you, pulling you in close as his little spoon. “But just in case… Maybe we can get some melting chocolate at the store tomorrow and make our own for dessert?” he mumbles softly.

“Oh, I’d love that…” you say, pleasantly surprised at his effort already. He holds you tight, nuzzling into your hair. His hands are soft and warm as they sneak up under the silky pajamas, a comforting touch after so many nights spent in this bed alone.

“It’s a date, my love.”

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Napoleonville [Chapter 4: The House Of Glass]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, koi fish, smoking, drinking, drugs, kids, parenthood, Willis Warning, impractical architecture, angst, Adventures With Aegon, historical topics including war and discrimination, let's all give a nice warm welcome to Christabel! 🥳

Word Count: 7.4k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

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It’s dawn, but you’ve already been up for hours. The sky turns from indigo to embers to flames to a cool, cloudless blue; mourning doves coo, goldfinches chirp, swamp rabbits gnaw on blades of grass glittering with dewdrops like diamonds. As the vanilla bean cake bakes in the oven, you go to Cadi’s room, sit on the edge of her bed, lay a hand lightly on the indistinct knoll that is your daughter curled up beneath her Rambo-themed blanket.

You murmur as she stirs awake: “Bonjour, ma cherie.”

Cadi rolls over, blinking groggily. You don’t call her this often. It’s something you picked up from Willis when you were married. You have a vision—sudden, jarring, though not entirely unwelcome—of him pacing back and forth with Cadi in his arms, one month old, 1 a.m., Willis humming some Cajun folk song to lull her to sleep. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I called Cascade Stables, there’s a spot reserved for you.”

“What? Really?!” Her face glows, Christmas lights, the Fourth of July. “But you said…how…?”

You can’t take the credit. You won’t give it to Willis if it’s unearned. “Actually, Aemond offered to pay. So you don’t need to worry about anything. The house is fine, the car is fine. No need to sacrifice your birthday presents.”

Cadi sits upright and ponders you, enigmatic childish confusion. “Mom…is Aemond your boyfriend?”

Well, honey, at first he was just some stranger from a kinky personal ad and then he was a delicious distraction and now I fear I might be starting to want more from him, something not so temporary, something forbidden. But I don’t know who he is. “I don’t think it’s quite that serious yet,” you say instead. “Would you like for him to be around more?”

She shrugs, and you recognize it not as true reluctance but rather as feigned, self-preserving indifference. “Yeah. I mean, I guess so. He’s okay.” Then she adds: “What happened to his face?”

“I honestly don’t know. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Maybe he was in a war,” Cadi says, glancing down at her Rambo blanket, Sylvester Stallone armed and stern and shirtless.

“Um, yeah, maybe.”

“Can I have cake for breakfast?”

“No, you cannot,” you say, smiling. “But you can have some of Amir’s leftover jambalaya that’s still in the fridge.”

“Fine.”

“Get up. Get ready. Amir should be here soon, once he can watch the cakes I’ll drive you to school.”

“If you let me stay home, I could help you bake.”

“You definitely wouldn’t help. You’d just spend eight hours playing that Nintendo.”

Cadi grins. “Probably.” Then she rolls out of bed and shuffles towards the kitchen over the creaking, sinking floor.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, what the fuck,” you hiss to yourself as you park behind Willis’ sheriff’s vehicle—a Plymouth Gran Fury—which just so happens to be towing a 20-foot jon boat. You step outside into glaring 90-degree sunshine, slam the door of your Chevy Celebrity, and jog into the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office. You are carrying a white bakery box full of cherry cobbler muffins.

“Hey sugar,” Willis drawls when he sees you. The holding cells are empty; the electric fans are whirring. Heather Locklear is simpering from where her poster is taped to the wall.

You throw the bakery box down onto his paper-strewn desk. “What the hell is that outside?”

“My new boat,” Willis says proudly. “Picked it up first thing this morning.”

“So you can get a new boat, but Cadi can’t go to horse camp?”

He throws his arms wide, exasperated. Men love to make a habit out of being exasperated by things that should be obvious. “She’s gonna get way more outta that boat than from spendin’ a week brushin’ horses! We’ll be fishin’ in it together ‘til she starts poppin’ out her own babies. If Lake Verret ain’t a puddle of oil by then. You know I’ve had three deputies resign in the past ten days? Three! I’m bleeding manpower. I can’t compete. With overtime, they can make twice as much workin’ security on the rigs.”

“I thought you voted for Reagan and his energy independence.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want them drillin’ in my neighborhood.” He flips open the box, grabs a muffin, and takes a huge, messy bite. Crumbs go flying everywhere.

“Well, Cadi is going to get to brush those horses after all,” you tell Willis. “She’ll be gone from June 24th to July 1st. Just so you know.”

His forehead crinkles as he chews. “Where’d you dig up a spare $300?”

He gave me $400, actually. “A friend offered to pay. Kind of embarrassing that they stepped up instead of you.”

Willis ignores this jab. It is uncharacteristically combative of you; but you’re hot, you’re exhausted, you have a splitting headache, you still have four cakes to finish before noon tomorrow. Sweat rolls in beads down the slope of your neck, the curve of your back. It will evaporate once you’re back outside again, once the sun bakes it off you like nightmares fade in daylight. “A friend, huh?” Willis is more fascinated than annoyed. He gnaws on his muffin, contemplating you. “The only friend I know of is Amir the Queer, and he ain’t got nothin’.”

He does; he’s just squirreling it all away for San Franscisco. “Don’t call him that. Don’t be a neanderthal.”

Willis’ thoughts are elsewhere. If not Amir, then who? Who? He asks, smirking: “You got a petit ami, sugar?”

A boyfriend, he means, a beau, a lover, a partner, a suitor. Do I? “No,” you decide. “No, he’s just a regular friend. Really.”

Willis chomps on his cherry cobbler muffin. His smirk stretches into a grin. “Sure he is.”

“Okay. You called and asked for muffins, and the muffins have been delivered. Now I gotta go. I have a hell of an order to finish for tomorrow. Which reminds me…” You take the folded piece of yellow legal pad paper out of your shorts pocket and open it to read the address of the Targaryen residence. “Where is 1066 Loch Raven Terrace? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Oh, that’s in a brand new development, real highfalutin, mansions and all. That’s where the Jade Dragon folks are livin’. You gotta go way down 401 towards Lake Verret. Turn onto Owlet, then Egret, then Loch Raven.”

You snatch a blue pen out of the mug on his desk—World’s Best Cop, it says—to scribble the directions down on your paper. “Great. Thanks. Why’d they name it that? We don’t even have ravens in Louisiana.”

“Maybe they got ‘em back in England and the Rockefellers want to feel right at home.”

You nod. This makes sense; this is a sufficiently egotistical explanation. You check the clock on the wall; it’s almost time to get Cadi from school. “You’re picking up Cadi tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah. ‘Round 8:00, as usual.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Willis asks longingly, looking nowhere in particular: “Remember when we were gonna go to Mexico for our anniversary?”

“Yeah. And I remember when we didn’t.”

He shrugs, perhaps regretful, mourning some hypothetical versions of yourselves. “I got busy. I got lazy.”

“We would have ended up in the same place, Willis. It just might have taken longer.”

“Sure,” he mutters, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. He’s reaching for his second muffin as you push through the glass door and step out into the sweltering afternoon sunlight.

Twenty minutes later, you’re rolling into your driveway: windows down, cicadas screeching, a flock of pelicans flapping by overhead, Cadi singing along to Jump by Van Halen. But when you cut the engine, you catch a glimpse of something strange in your rearview mirror. You have a visitor. He’s coasting down the driveway in his red Audi Quattro, displacing a grey wave of gravel. You and Cadi climb out of your Celebrity to greet him.

“Aemond?” you say, hands on your hips, a growing involuntary smile. You weren’t supposed to see him until Saturday night, until your talk about the future, a future you both disavowed before starting to get a taste for it. “What are you doing here?!”

“I only have a minute.” When he emerges from the Quattro, he’s dragging his neon teal duffle bag.

Cadi gasps. “More Nintendo games?!”

Aemond chuckles and shakes his head. “Sorry, not quite.”

Cadi groans dramatically and sprints off into the house, probably to devour an ungodly amount of baked goods.

“Don’t eat the Cap’n Crunch Treats!” you shout after her. “They’re for a customer!”

Aemond strolls over to you, wearing jeans, a white tank top, and his Adidas sneakers. His ever-present Marlboro jacket has been forgotten. His hair is a mess, he’s touching his chin restlessly; he really does look like he’s in a rush. “Hey,” he says softly, returning your smile.

You point to his duffle bag. “So you’re not here to tie me up.”

“Regrettably, no.”

“Cadi was really, really happy this morning to learn that you paid for horse camp.”

“I’m glad. Please don’t mention it again.” Aemond glances to his right and spies the alligator sunbathing a few yards away, a deep swampy green and fast asleep. “Oh, fuck!” He grabs your arm, pulls you to him, walks with you briskly towards the house. “You need to get that thing turned into a purse or shoes or something.”

You laugh. “She won’t go after you. She knows you’re bigger than she is.”

“I’m not going to take your word for it.”

In the living room, Aemond tosses his duffle bag on the couch, unzips it, and lifts out a Nikon F3 digital camera. Amir peeks out of the kitchen, flour and powdered sugar dusting his palms, his forearms, his cheeks. “What the…?”

“I need a white wall,” Aemond says distractedly, peering around. The living room walls are pink, the kitchen is mint green, Cadi’s room is yellow, the bathroom is a pale blue. Cadi watches as he darts around the small house, sitting at the kitchen counter and chomping on a ginger molasses cookie. Then Aemond snaps his fingers, remembering. He turns to you. “Your bedroom has white walls.”

“And of course he knows all about your bedroom,” Amir says.

“Come with me,” Aemond orders you.

“Okay…?”

“Cadi too.”

You and Cadi follow Aemond into the bedroom, Amir trotting close behind to satisfy his curiosity. Aemond shows Cadi where to stand against the wall, in a spot where the lighting is good, no shadows, no cracks in the paint, no paintings or photographs. He raises the Nikon and gazes through the viewfinder with his right eye.

“Alright, here we go…just from the shoulders up…yeah, look at me straight-on, just like that…big smile, one two three!” He takes a picture; you can hear the click. “Beautiful! You’re Cindy Crawford! Naomi Campbell! Linda Evangelista! Let’s go again…”

Cadi giggles as she poses: a few respectable smiles, a few silly faces, a few where Aemond asks her to act serious. Cadi says, with an exaggerated grimace: “Look, I’m Mom when Daddy tries to talk to her.” Amir guffaws from the doorway.

“Your turn,” Aemond tells you, waving you over. Aemond directs you like he’s looking for excuses to touch your shoulders, your waist, your face, making minute adjustments that can’t really matter. You’re good at the serious faces, but he’s not satisfied with your smile. “No, a real one. A real smile!”

“I am really smiling!” you protest.

Aemond lowers the camera and raises an eyebrow at you. “You can do better. I’ve seen it.”

And suddenly, effortlessly, you’re beaming.

“There you go,” Aemond says in approval, and snaps a few frames. “Done.”

“What do you need pictures of us for?”

“Just a little project I’m working on,” Aemond says, evasive. He ventures back to the living room without further explanation.

As Aemond zips the Nikon into his duffle bag, you go to the kitchen to see how far Amir has gotten with the Targaryens’ engagement party order. In a dozen different icing colors, he’s painted wildflowers—your favorite since you were Cadi’s age—all over the white buttercream frosting of the vanilla bean cake. You wrap an arm around his waist, rest your head against his chest. “You’re Picasso.”

“I’m a sad, single, four-eyes twink who lives with his Grandma.”

“You’re the love of my life.”

He laughs and smacks a noisy kiss onto your cheek. Aemond watches, amused, thoughtful. He has that same look he had when he walked in on Cadi and Amir dancing to Kyrie, like someone studying a work of art in a museum, something beautiful but arcane, crafted by a foreign stranger who’s been dead for centuries. You start chopping pecans for the hummingbird cake.

“Okay,” Aemond announces with a heavy sigh. “I gotta run.”

“Already?” Cadi says, more disappointed than she’s trying to let on.

“He’s a very busy man,” you tell her. “He’s an engineer. And a historian, too.”

“Just an engineer,” Aemond says, startled.

“Only a historian would think to quiz me about Napoleon to see if I was worthy of his time.”

“You should know something about the man your town was named after.” Aemond leans in close—smoke and cologne, sun and salt—and growls into your ear: “Bye, Cupcake. Taste you later.”

“Bye.” And you watch him leave with his neon teal duffle bag slung over one shoulder, so preoccupied you completely forget about the pecans. Your knife rests on the cutting board, your thoughts are tangled up in what you and Aemond need to talk about tomorrow. I want more than something casual. I do, I really do.

Amir whips you with a dishtowel. “Ho, we’ve got cakes to bake! Let’s go, let’s go!” And then he asks more sympathetically as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose: “How’s your headache?”

“Oh,” you say, only realizing it when he asked. “It’s gone now.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The driveway is long and meandering, brand new but meant to look old, cobblestones lined with meticulously manicured hedges and beasts carved out of marble: bears, dolphins, horses, dragons. On the shores of Lake Verret, out of sight of the rigs and surrounded by towering gnarled southern live oaks older than the United States, you find the Targaryen family residence—manor? estate? chateau?—and park your Chevy Celebrity amidst a sea of Lexuses, Audis, Porsches, Cadillacs, and Alfa Romeos. There are willowy whooping cranes tiptoeing their way across the lawn. A blue merle Great Dane, gigantic and glaring menacingly, lurks behind the white columns of the wraparound front porch.

“That is not a house,” Amir says, gazing up at it through the windshield. “That is a castle.”

“That is where we’re going to make a lot of money if we can impress the Rockefellers.”

“Whoo hoo!” he cheers, climbing out of the car. “San Fran, I hope you’re ready for me!”

You’re dragging the coolers out of the back seat when you are descended upon by a herd of servants, dressed in black so as not to distract from the festivities, so they can fade into the backdrop, so they can become invisible. You and Amir have missed the memo. Your sundress is from Kmart: white with pink zinnias, a cheap and unextraordinary flower for an undistinguished woman from an anonymous town in one of the most impoverished states in the nation. Amir is wearing neon orange shorts and a (very tight) t-shirt from Queen’s Magic Tour that he found at a yard sale.

“These are the cakes?” the head butler asks impatiently, a grim-faced man with salt and pepper hair and spotless white gloves.

“Yeah, that box has the coconut cake, and that one has the key lime, and there are the Cap’n Crunch Treats, and…hey! Wait!” You watch helplessly as the fleet of servants ferry the boxes up the porch steps and into the house. You and Amir stare at each other as you stand abandoned on the cobblestones. “What do we do now?”

“Do we just…leave…?!”

“You made it!” Alicent cries, sailing out of the doorway and swathed in a flowing cream-colored gown. Her large dark eyes are bright and ever-shifting, almost manic; sunlight shimmers on her auburn hair. There is music pouring out behind her, thudding but indistinct, rumbling bass, heady guitar strums. “Come inside. You simply must come in.”

“Oh, we couldn’t impose!” Amir says, already inching towards the house.

“I’ll hear no more of that. You rescued me in my hour of need and I shall not forget it.” Alicent beckons you closer. Her smile is broad and radiant but tight, like she’s having to remember to keep it that way, like her muscles are beginning to ache. “Enjoy some hors d’oeuvres, at least. We have shrimp cocktail, miniature quiches, vol-au-vents, clams casino, Swedish meatballs, little smokies, deviled eggs with paprika, and lots of champagne! Quickly now. There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

Amir glances back at you as you follow him up the porch steps. “People, huh?”

The Great Dane stalks over to you, sniffs, growls deep and low. You freeze, not wanting to provoke it. Its eyes—muddy greenish-brown and swimming with a cunning hostility—remind you of an alligator’s, not the five-footer that idles on your lawn but one of the true monsters of the bayou, old and grizzled and always hungry.

“Vhagar, no!” Alicent scolds, pushing the beast’s massive muzzle away. You imagine it chomping on her hand until it’s gone: one bite, two bites, nothing left but gristle and blood. “No! Bad dog! Go away, go!” The Great Dane reluctantly retreats, glowering from behind a column. “I’m so sorry about that. I’m utterly mortified. She’s terribly unfriendly, but she doesn’t bite. Usually.”

“It’s fine!” you say, heart still racing.

“She belongs to my son. My children…their obsessions confound me. But as mothers, we’re powerless to stop them, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so,” you reply, thinking of Cadi’s wildness, willfulness; though trying to change her would feel wrong.

“Now I certainly owe you a glass of champagne,” Alicent says, billowing like a cloud into the house, her gold heels clicking on the marble floor.

You pass through the doorway and into a vast, crowded foyer, all white and gold: a massive crystalline chandelier, oriental vases and sculptures of men you don’t recognize, paintings on the wall, servants flitting around with trays of hors d’oeuvres. On one table is a tower of champagne glasses, each with a single red cherry marooned inside. Guests mingle in their sport coats and suits and taffeta and sequins, and oddly, none of them are talking about the couple whose engagement is being celebrated. They talk instead about ski trips, polo matches, oil futures, the Soviets, the Saudis, the godawful humidity in this misfortunate corner of the world that they can’t wait to leave. There are stained glass windows everywhere, scenes of suns, stars, sunflowers, dragonflies, lemon trees, sand on beaches. It’s cold, extremely cold, frigid drafts gushing from the air conditioning vents. A Dire Straits song pours not from a Panasonic boombox but from a stereo system with a pair of speakers as tall as you are, Sultans Of Swing. There is a baffling dual chorus clanging around in your skull: Nobody needs this. I’ll never be able to give my daughter anything like this.

Amir whistles as he peers around, eyes wide behind his tortoiseshell glasses. “This place must cost a fortune to cool.”

“I Teleftaia Epithymia.” Alicent struggles with the pronunciation; she speaks slowly, effortfully. “It’s what my husband named the house. What we named the house, I mean. It’s Greek for The Last Desire. As in, no one could possibly want anything more than what this home can offer. Isn’t that poetic? I’ve fallen quite in love with it.” Still, there is that slight nervousness to everything she does, that over-eagerness to please, that restless rushing fidgeting. She wears large gold teardrop earrings that she keeps touching. “We knew we’d have to build something here for the new project on the lake. My son is overseeing it, and he’ll have to spend the next year here, at least. It’s a big step for him. It’s the first drilling operation he’s been given command of. And he—”

“Alicent!” A man comes striding through the crowd. He has shoulder-length pale blonde hair and is wearing a black pinstripe suit, a business suit, authoritative but not joyful. He doesn’t notice you or Amir. You don’t exist to him yet. “Where the hell is the ice sculpture? You said there would be an ice sculpture.”

“It’s on its way, darling. I already called.”

“It should be here now!”

“Viserys, please.” Alicent’s voice is low, embarrassed. “The driver got lost, you know our address is new. They stopped at a payphone and rang us and I straightened it out. They’ll arrive any minute.”

“They better,” the man grumbles. “It’s her family’s crest, for Christ’s sake. We need that ice dragon.”

“This is my husband,” Alicent tells you and Amir, forced smile, pleading eyes, trying to pivot. “Viserys, do you remember the wonderful people I told you about? From Hummingbird Bakery?”

“Bakery?” He seems to have only a vague recollection and even less interest. His gaze is already wandering to other guests. He flashes a grin and waves at a few middle-aged men in grey suits.

“They saved me. They were able to bake us six beautiful cakes with only two days’ notice.”

“And Cap’n Crunch Treats,” Amir adds.

Now Viserys Targaryen does turn his attention to you, and his forehead knits into perturbed wrinkles. His cool blue eyes skate over your Kmart dress, your forearms still dotted with flour and frosting, your cheap pink flats with bows on the front. “It’s a pleasure.” Then he looks to Amir—orange shorts, too-tight shirt that stops at his navel, dogwood flower in his hair—and seems to startle a little. “Alicent, you didn’t mention…uh…he’s…oh well. Too late now. It can’t be helped.”

You and Amir share a glance, polite smiles pasted on your faces. Alicent is abjectly horrified. “Viserys, he’s extremely professional.”

“There are the Lannisters. I must be off.” And the Targaryen family patriarch unceremoniously departs. You and Amir pretend to admire the stained glass windows. Alicent picks at the beds of her fingernails, her rings jangling against each other, her eyes misty.

Criston appears out of nowhere, wearing a white suit with a zebra print shirt underneath. Today his single earring is silver to match. He glides a hand around Alicent’s waist and leans in so close that his nose brushes her fiery hair. “What? What do you need?”

“The ice sculpture people—”

“I’ll wait outside for them,” Criston says, and departs as swiftly as he arrived.

“Please allow me to give you a quick tour of the house,” Alicent says, recovering somewhat. “I’m so grateful for your help. And things keep happening that only make me feel more indebted.” Then she hands each of you a flute of champagne, spins on her heels, and leads you out of the foyer.

Each room is a different color. The living room is red, furniture of lush velvet and Italian leather, bookshelves tall enough to need ladders, a brick fireplace that they’ll never use. Through a pair of French doors you can glimpse a garden and a pool with a water slide. The dining room is a cheerful butter yellow. The kitchen is teal, and like all the rest of the house has stained glass windows to match; these are shaped like a cathedral’s and run all the way up to the ceiling. Servants have arrayed your cakes on the counter, each with a label handwritten in cursive and a set of knives to cut it with. A plate of Cap’n Crunch Treats has been tucked away back by the stove like something they’re a little ashamed of.

Everywhere she goes, Alicent introduces you and Amir to the guests she crosses paths with. “Have you met these heavenly people from Hummingbird Bakery yet? Yes, they’re local, true Louisianans! I see you’ve already helped yourself to a slice of the key lime cake. Isn’t it just fantastic?! And a gorgeous shade of green! It’s so peculiar, you won’t believe what this sweetheart has living in her yard, a real-life alligator…”

You whisper to Amir: “Are we her pet poor people?”

“You might be. I’m proudly undomesticated.”

“Christabel!” Alicent shouts jubilantly as the girl scrolls into the kitchen. “There you are, dear! Come see your cakes.”

Christabel complies, shy but agreeable, peeking out from under a shock of feathery blonde bangs. She wears gleaming diamond earrings and a very bridal white one-shoulder dress, showing quite a bit of skin; you notice that some of the other guests milling about the kitchen cast her judgmental smirks. Christabel asks Alicent, as if she’s afraid of the answer: “He’s not here yet?”

“You know how busy he’s been,” Alicent says, apologetic. You think, remembering the drunk man from the holding cell: Yeah, busy committing misdemeanors. “Those rigs…the S&P 500…anyway, he’ll be home before you know it. In the meantime, let me get you a piece of cake. You’re disappearing, love.”

Christabel skims a palm down the front of her dress self-consciously. “Alright. Just a tiny one.” Then she acknowledges you and Amir. “You must be the masterminds then. Alicent told me all about you.”

Amir says: “About our excellent service and reasonable prices?”

“Yes.” Christabel isn’t skittish like Alicent, but there’s a sort of pensiveness to her, an impression that she is eternally woolgathering. Now she looks at you in particular with a small, warm smile. “And about how beautiful you are.”

Amir laughs at your stunned expression. Me? Beautiful? And the only other person to call you that in years has been Aemond, tangled up with you on your bed in your falling-down house, and you aren’t sure if that counts. “Oh, um, thank you,” you manage. “I really like your dress.”

“Really? I fear people think it’s too…revealing. I liked it fine this morning when I put it on. I didn’t have any notion it might not be suitable. Now I’m feeling like an idiot.”

“No, it’s so nice!” you say, pained for her, one misfit recognizing another. “I never would have thought there was anything wrong with it.”

Alicent gets a plate from the pile on the counter. “What flavor would you like, Christabel?”

“Whatever this one is.” She points to the vanilla bean cake, adorned with Amir’s frosting flowers. “Isn’t it stunning, with all the colors?”

“Amir is the artist,” you say. “I love wildflowers.”

Alicent asks: “Did you have them at your wedding?”

No one bothered. No one remembered. “I wanted to.”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely, Christabel?” Alicent passes her a slice of vanilla bean cake. “Wildflowers? It would be different. Everyone has roses or lilies or something. But wildflowers? I can’t recall ever going to a wedding with wildflowers. Especially if you’re going to get married here. It would fit with the scenery. This place is so exotic, so untamed!”

Christabel nods, taking nibbles of her cake. “Wow, this is delicious! Yes, wildflowers. We could use them for the bouquet, and the corsages…”

“Now we just need a venue.” Alicent sighs. “We’ve had such a terrible time trying to find a good place. Somewhere historic, but not rundown or unsavory. I mean, you can’t get married on an old plantation or something. Bloody hell. How tone-deaf would that be?”

“Very tone-deaf,” Amir concurs.

“There’s a church across the lake in Belle River that you might like,” you say. “The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens. It’s a historic site, I believe. It’s not very big, but it would make for nice pictures.”

“There’s an idea!” Alicent chirps, then she is stricken as a woman walks into the kitchen. Her fair hair is tied up in a messy bun. She wears a white t-shirt stained with dirt, denim overalls, and Converse Chucks. There is a bluish-green chameleon perched on her shoulder, goggling at everyone with its rotating, conical eyes. “Helaena, put your dress on.”

“Dreamfyre doesn’t like the silk. She won’t sit on my shoulder if I’m wearing it.”

“Helaena, it’s a lizard.” Alicent is exasperated. “Go upstairs, stick it back in its cage, and put your dress on, now.”

“Fine,” Helaena mumbles before wandering off.

“Oh, is that the ice sculpture?!” Alicent cries, peeking out into the foyer through the kitchen doorway. “At last! If you’ll excuse me…” She scurries off to attend to it, Christabel trailing her like a shadow.

You put your empty champagne flute in the sink. “I need to go find a bathroom.”

“I need some shrimp cocktail,” Amir replies. “Do you think I should try to explain the evils of gentrification to people?”

You giggle. “Yeah, definitely. Start with Viserys.” You part ways, Amir headed towards the foyer, you journeying down a mysterious hallway that adjoins the kitchen. The walls are flame orange and decorated with portraits of grave blonde people, each with an outlandish name etched into the plaque beneath its likeness: Baelon, Alyssa, Jaehaerys, Alysanne, Aenys, another Alyssa, Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya. “This family is so fucking weird,” you mutter to yourself as you continue down the hall.

You find a bathroom, but there’s already a hoard of glamorous, ornamented women waiting outside of it. They’re chattering about which is the superior place to take a holiday, the Canary Islands or the south of France. They stare at you like you’re vermin, a nutria or a raccoon. You keep moving.

At the top of a spiral staircase, you find another hallway. The first door you try is a home movie theater complete with a popcorn machine, neon signage, several rows of seating and a plethora of bean bag chairs. Behind the second door is a bedroom, but it’s not unoccupied. You are greeted by the sight of the man who must be the groom. He looks much like he did when he was detained in a holding cell of the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office: slicked-back hair, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, flushed cheeks, tiny shorts, flip flops. He’s hunched over a desk with three lines of white powder on it. There’s an HP computer—something you’ve never seen in person before—in one corner of the room, a television and collection of hundreds of VHS tapes in the other. His walls are black and cluttered with posters of punk rock bands, the Ramones, the Clash, the Misfits, Minor Threat, Social Distortion, Bad Religion. His Akai stereo is blaring Fight For Your Right by the Beastie Boys.

“What?” the man says agitatedly. There’s powder on his fingers and his nose. “What? What? Who are you? What do you want?”

“Um, sorry, I was just…uh…” There’s some kind of rodent running around on his unmade bed. Its fur is a sandy yellow color, its body freakishly long and four legs stumpy. What the fuck. “I was looking for a bathroom.”

He blinks, muddled recollection. “You’re the cake lady.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Delivering cakes.”

“Oh. Right.” He points directly across the hall. “There’s a bathroom.”

“Okay, great, thanks.” He starts snorting another line before you’ve even shut the door.

You spend a minute or two in the Targaryens’ lilac-colored bathroom, paintings of the night sky hung on the walls—comets, moons, stars, galaxies—and amethyst geodes on the sink, a stained glass window with a scene of a lavender field. By the time you navigate back down to the kitchen, the man is there. He’s eating a Cap’n Crunch Treat, cocaine still streaked across his pink face and caught in his wisp of a mustache.

“You did this,” he says. “I know you did. It’s too good to be anyone but you.”

With his hand that’s not holding the Cap’n Crunch Treat, he’s cradling the lean rodent against his bare chest like an infant. “What is that? A weasel?”

“It’s a ferret. His name is Sunfyre.” The man nods to a photograph pinned to the refrigerator with magnets shaped like miniature oil rigs. There are two people in the frame, a woman and a girl, their cheeks squished together as they laugh on a pink sand beach of some topical island you’ll never visit. “That’s my dad’s first wife.”

“He’s divorced?”

“Widowed. She died in a car accident.” He taps on the girl in the picture, perhaps Cadi’s age. “That’s my half-sister Rhaenyra. She’s an Olympic fencer. She lives in the Lake District and fucks our uncle.”

You shake your head. You must have misheard him. “She what?”

“Yeah, I know how it sounds. I’m not kidding. She lives in a castle and fucks our uncle and has kids with him. Fucking sick, man. And I’m the screwup? Because I like coke and strippers? I’m supposed to feel bad about that? Bite me, Viserys.” He grabs a second Cap’n Crunch Treat and gestures for you to follow him into the foyer. “Come on. You need some champagne.”

You chuckle. Mental or not, there’s something likeable about him…though you can’t say you envy Christabel. To be married to someone like this man must be hellish. Now, to be married to someone like Aemond… “I’ve already had a glass.”

“Okay, well I need some champagne, and I don’t want to go out there alone.” His flip flops slap noisily against the marble floor as he plods out of the kitchen. He looks back to see if you’re following, and then you hurry after him. The heir to the Jade Dragon fortune weaves through the crowd, ignoring everyone and being ignored in return. In the packed foyer, he plucks a flute of champagne from the tower and chugs it. He eats the cherry and holds up the stem. “You know how to tie these with your tongue?”

“No, I definitely do not.”

“I do,” he announces proudly. He shoves the stem in his mouth, wiggles it around for a while, accidentally swallows it and has to hack it back up. He spits the cherry stem onto the pristine white floor, attracting a few grimaces. “Wait. Wait. Let me try again.” He reaches for another glass of champagne. The opening notes of Asia’s Heat Of The Moment boom from the speakers.

You give him a sympathetic smile. “Pre-wedding jitters?”

He snorts. “I’m not the one getting married.”

“Wait, you’re not?”

He cackles, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “I already have a wife. Stephanie, she’s a princess from Monaco. Right now she’s in Ibiza or something. I haven’t seen her since New Year’s. This New Year’s? Last New Year’s? I’m not sure. Maybe it was the Grand Prix. I remember a lot of confetti.”

You gape at him. “So who’s getting married?”

“My brother Aemond.”

“Who?!”

He points with his Cap’n Crunch Treat. Across the foyer by the front door, Aemond is grinning and accepting congratulations from a gaggle of men in suits: black, grey, navy, tan. Aemond himself is wearing emerald green, dark and luxurious and striking and expensive, because he’s a Targaryen who’s marrying a noblewoman and he’s an oil tycoon and a millionaire and he is most certainly not single and not looking to change that.

“You fucking liar,” you hiss.

The man with the coke in his mustache peers over at you. “Huh?”

You can’t tear your eyes away from Aemond. You feel scarlet rage soaking into you drip by drip, you feel the blood turning hot beneath your skin. You shouldn’t be this upset over a man you barely know, you don’t understand why you are. Except part of you does, and it’s heartbreaking, and it’s humiliating beyond words. Of course he’s marrying someone like Christabel. Of course he’d never choose me.

Aemond bids farewell to his well-wishers, and as he turns away from them his right eye catches on you. From across the room, his face shifts from disbelief to astonishment to horror. His jaw drops open. The flute of champagne he’d been clasping shatters against the marble floor. Immediately, a flock of servants materialize to clean up the mess. You flee from the foyer to the living room, through the French doors, into the garden. It’s midday and hot as hell, humid, swampy, suffocating to the British aristocrats that fill the house. You don’t see anyone else outside. You run past the swimming pool and through cobblestone trails bordered by blue cardinal flowers, orange coneflowers, coral honeysuckle, resurrection ferns, maypops, white sage, firewheels, magnolias, cinnamon ferns. You stop at the edge of a fish pond larger than your kitchen and glare down into the water, trying not to let tears blur your vision as glimmers of scales—red, orange, black, white, gold—dart beneath the transparent rippling water.

I have to go back inside. I can’t leave without Amir. I can’t leave without formally saying goodbye to Alicent and thanking her for her hospitality and licking the boots of these people so they’ll throw just enough cash at me to keep a roof over my daughter’s head.

You hear hurried footsteps; Aemond appears on the cobblestones. He’s found you, but that’s as far ahead as he’s planned. He holds his hands open, not knowing what to say.

“You told me you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’s your fiancée, that’s worse, don’t you get how that’s worse?!”

“Okay, this looks bad, but it’s not what you think—”

“You’re marrying her, right?” you demand, and he hesitates. “Right?!”

“Yes,” Aemond admits, and it feels like knuckles to your stomach.

“Then you’re a liar and a cheater.”

“It’s not…it’s…” He gestures frantically, not knowing how to explain, how to translate it into words you’ll understand. “There’s not an expectation of fidelity.”

“Does Christabel know that?”

“That’s the thing, that’s what you don’t get, it’s not like that between us. We don’t discuss it, we’re not…” More vague, frenzied gestures. “We’re not…um…” He groans, rubbing his scarred forehead. “We’re not fucking. At all. Nothing close to it. It’s not a physical relationship yet.”

“But she doesn’t know about me.”

“No, God no, of course not.”

“So she thinks you’re…abstinent…?”

He sighs, defeated. “I don’t know. I don’t really care, honestly.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping with her?”

“Because we can’t until we’re married.”

“I’m sorry, are you Pilgrims?! Are you time travelers from the 1400s?!”

“It’s her family’s standards,” Aemond says. “It’s not uncommon for women of her…status.”

“Girl,” you pitch at him. “She’s a girl. How old is she? Eighteen?”

“Nineteen.”

You’re furious that she exists; you’re furious on her behalf. “And she’s planning her fairytale wedding while you collect local women to act out your kinky fantasies with.”

“One woman,” Aemond says softly.

“What?”

“There’s one woman currently. Just you.”

You shake your head, swiping enraged tears from your cheeks. “Why are you marrying her?”

“It’s sort of an…arranged thing.”

You stare at him. “Someone set you up?”

“My father knows her father. They think it’s a good match. Her family needs money, my father wants ties to the nobility. She’s one of probably five people on this planet that he would approve of. And she seems enthusiastic about it, so it’s happening.”

“Aemond, that is an insanely bad idea.”

“I have to do it.”

“You’re marrying her because your dad told you to?!” You explode. “Are you serious?! Everyone with the sole exception of Amir told me to stay with Willis, my friends, my family, my neighbors, my bakery customers, the checkout ladies at the Piggly Wiggly, my goddamn mailman, my father was in the hospital dying of lung cancer saying that his last wish was for me to never get divorced, and I still went through with it because I knew it was the right thing to do and no one was going to stop me!”

“I don’t want to talk about Willis,” Aemond snaps.

“Well, he’s kind of an inescapable aspect of my existence, so if I can get over it I’m sure you can too.”

“I hate that guy,” Aemond seethes, and you have no idea how to respond. You gaze down into the pond and watch scales and fins and tails fly like bullets beneath the surface.

“Those are the biggest goldfish I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“They’re koi,” Aemond scoffs.

“Oh, is that what they teach people about at Imperial College in London? Fancy fucking fish?”

“Don’t be a bitch to me, just…just give me a second, I didn’t think I was going to have this conversation until tonight, this is not how I wanted it to go.”

You say quietly, betrayed: “You’re a robber baron.”

“What? Like Vanderbilt or Rockefeller, that kind of robber baron, that’s who you think I am?!”

“That’s who you are! You hoard and exploit and use and pollute and destroy! I don’t destroy things, I create them!”

“You bake cupcakes!”

“And I don’t hurt anyone by doing it!”

“You are so goddamn delusional, you are completely insane—”

You start counting out crimes on your fingers. “I don’t kill people, I don’t endanger the Earth, I didn’t irrevocably screw up Ketchikan, Alaska—”

“So I’m terrible because I want to bring jobs to your pathetic, dead-end town?! Because I want there to be a few less pregnant teenagers and more high school diplomas? That makes me a war criminal, that puts me right up there with Jaruzelski or Pinochet?!” He realizes what he’s said when he sees the wounded fury unfold on your face. “Oh fuck. Come on, I didn’t mean you.”

“No, you just meant people who are exactly like me in every way.”

“You know what? I take it back,” Aemond says, knife-sharp, wrathful. “I did mean you. Because you are wasting your life here, and you’re too stubborn or too scared or too much of both to recognize an opportunity to have something more. Don’t you think you deserve better? Don’t you think your kid deserves better?”

“I built something here, I made a future for myself and my daughter here, and you’re going to work our people to death and poison the lake and then pack up and leave when it all goes wrong because that’s what oil tycoons do! The opportunity is for you, not us! More mansions, more champagne, more coke, more demented pets!”

“Then leave! Get in your car and drive back to your sad, structurally unsound house and live happily ever after with whatever braindead barbarian you marry next.”

“I will,” you pitch back. “Enjoy being married to your marquess.”

“She’s not a marquess. Her dad is the marquess. She won’t inherit the title until he dies.”

“Enjoy being married to your future marquess, you pretentious prick.”

“Women can’t be marquesses. They can only be marchionesses.”

“Yeah, you’re so smart. I’m really impressed. At least I don’t have to tie people to beds to delude myself into thinking I have some semblance of control over my life.”

You storm through the garden and back into the house as Aemond watches you, violently disappointed. You yank open one of the French doors and slip into the midst of the festivities. Illustrious guests are still mingling, toasting, boasting, scrutinizing you skeptically when they notice you at all. In the archway between the living room and the foyer, Amir joins you, sipping a flute of champagne.

“Hey, ho! Did you get lost? Did you find the cellar where they keep the bodies of their political enemies?” He has eaten so many hors d’oeuvres he’s basically waddling. “You look stressed. How about a nice shrimp cocktail?” He follows your eyeline to where Aemond is trying to sneak covertly into the living room through the French doors. Christabel intercepts him, relieved that he’s finally arrived, beaming, sparkling, entirely unaware of any conflict. Aemond conjures up a smile, fond yet guarded. She doesn’t touch him, and he doesn’t touch her either. He clasps his hands behind his back instead. “Is that…?!”

“Yeah.”

“And he’s…?!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Amir says. “Oh.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his dark eyes wide and shellshocked. “We should have made him buy all of us Nintendos and a week at horse camp.”

“I want to go home.”

“You got it, let me just grab a few more of those Swedish meatballs—”

“Amir,” you say, tears brimming in your eyes. “I really want to go home.”

“Okay, okay.” He slings an arm around your shoulder, smacks a kiss against your temple, walks with you towards the front door. “Then let’s go home.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you

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kiss-me-muchoo · 6 months

Text

𝐂𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬ú𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ On Halloween night, your jealousy puts in danger your relationship with Miguel. On Día de Muertos, Miguel and you are officially forevermore lovers, baking pan de muertos and building an altar.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ angst, fluff, new relationship!trope, shy!soft!Miguel, shy!jealous!reader, unnoficial part two of burning witches (you don’t have to read it, but highly recommended)

𝐀/𝐍_ 1989 TV is amazing!. One of my faves is You are in love, use the song with this

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_____________________________________________________

How could you sit there eating vegetarian sushi and look so pretty?

Miguel was embellished, looking at your straightened hair and band graphic tee. You were talking about some movie you wanted to see with him while eating a roll of sweat potato, cream cheese, and other ingredients.

“Amor, are you listening?” How he could not feel embarrassed when you’re giving him a sweet smile.

“Sorry, I got distracted” You arch your brow, playfully.

“By what? Is there a pretty waitress behind me?” He rolls his eyes as you giggle, leaning to eat from his noddles.

“Actually, I was getting lost on how good you look today.” Now he chuckles after seeing you so flustered and avoiding his eyes with a mouth full of sushi.

“Ay, pero qué bonita” You swear your cheeks are going to explode because of Miguel and his constant flattering.

You won’t believe it's been a week since you two started dating.

“Ya!” You try to stop him from laughing at your blushed face.

“Okay pues, bonita” Both of you smile at each other. And even the people around you who are eating seem con motioned by the cuteness of your lover’s antics for you.

“So… this winter… Are you teaching me how to drive finally?” he eyed you briefly but ended up nodding.

“I guess so. Just… we’ll get you a junk car to start” You rolled your eyes. Of course, he didn’t trust you after telling him of that little accident from last year.

“Despite that, I’m okay. I want a vintage rav4. That was my childhood car, well… my dad’s but” he chuckled. There were a lot of moments where he found you being so cute and adorable.

“Sorry… I’m still learning to shut up.”

“No, hermosa. Never shut up” and there was his silly smirk that had you on your knees. In that instance, he unconsciously showed all the love he felt for you.

“I warned you. But… What are you doing on Halloween night?” Jess was hosting a retro Halloween-themed party.

You already had your vintage bat costume with shimmers and see-through fabric.

“Not sure yet…” his answer disappointed you a little. Of course, the relationship was new, but you really wanted to spend Halloween with him.

“Oh. That’s okay.” And then, your answer disappointed him a little. He was debating whether to propose something to you or not.

“You have plans…” you shrugged, finishing your sushi roll.

“Not sure yet” Your smile was honest. But only you knew that your reply was a way to protect yourself. You trusted your boyfriend, but you weren’t ready for an early first fight or related.

Neither of you proposed something to do together. Maybe it wasn’t the best decision…

…

Halloween day and you didn’t talk with Miguel. At least you knew he had a long mission and since you were done with your part, you left without having an opportunity to exchange words with him. He had been talking with a woman. Once you suggested him to hang out with him that night in the folkloric earth you almost got burned like a medieval witch.

Talking about witches, no magic tonight.

That didn’t stop you from attending Jess’s party.

“Girl, look at you…” Jess greeted dressed in a seductive mummy costume. Her baby was attached to her hip and also dressed as a little mummy.

“Hey, you’re holding a baby, Jessica.” She giggles after realizing what you meant.

“Yeah, and you showed up here dressed like that” Although your costume wasn’t as sexy as hers, it was very noticeable.

“What can I say?” Both of you laugh and finally, you enter the house.

“Drinks are in the yard, most of the adults are there. For the kids, fried stuff and pizza” You can see most of your younger friends there, playing games and eating.

“I think I’m in the mood for the mezcal and fried lasagna.”

“You got it!” As Jess leaves his baby crawling towards Gwen, who’s dressed like a zombie, you follow the host of the party outside. Promising yourself to go back inside and greet your friends.

“Oh my god! Peter!” You greet shocked. Peter was in an elegant Dracula costume. He looked very nice, in contrast to his usual disheveled looks at the Spider Society’s HQ.

“You showered!” The other guests laugh, and you keep greeting other coworkers and friends.

“Very funny. But you? Where’s your silly boyfriend I know you want to impress?”

“Not here,” you say laughing. And Ben is offering the mezcal you oh so desperately needed.

To be honest, you missed him. But you were a little proud and stubborn to admit it. Also, while you sunk all the possible jealousy about seeing Miguel and that spider woman talking earlier, you were a little afraid. Because deep inside you knew there would be some miscommunication problems with Miguel.

“Get comfortable. Peter was about to tell us his most spooky experience” Jess says appearing with a beer in her hand.

“Ready for it…” With that, the first round of alcohol began.

An hour later you are dancing with Margo and Pavitr. Then, every word Peter and Ben said made you laugh so hard. You think they’ve never been funnier than that night. And that was a lot to say. Especially from Peter who was naturally funny as hell.

…

You really wanted to pee. But you had been laughing so hard with Jess, Hobie, Ben and Peter. You are near tearing from the bad jokes and sassy comments floating around.

“Time up, time up. I’m gonna pee if I don’t go now.” Jess tells you where the bathroom is, and you start your way inside. And then you turn to the kitchen, your eyes wide open as you spot your boyfriend.

Miguel is there, all dressed in black, drinking a beer and laughing with Anya Corazón.

Jealousy makes your blood boil. But suddenly sadness floods you. The disappointment beats the anger, triggered by the high amount of alcohol in your system. Your brain knew it was silly and immature. But since the day of the sushi date, you had that little torn stuck, where Miguel wasn’t adding you completely to his plans.

As soon as Miguel spots you with teary eyes, you turn around, directly to the house door.

“Hey, wait up…” Miguel stops you a few steps away from the entrance.

“Are…Are you crying?” He asks when you finally face him.

You couldn’t help it. It was the insecurity of being with such a great and difficult person. So, you sigh, eyes all teary and a red nose tip too.

“Well. I had a really good time. And the last thing I expected on my way to the bathroom was finding my boyfriend drinking beers and laughing closely with a girl.” He sighs, his tall and broad figure covering your whole figure from any possible guest trying to see what is happening.

You looked very beautiful. He wasn’t even sure if Jess invited you, but how could have been so stupid? Of course, she would.

“I didn’t know you were coming” he admits. Calm tone, and a neutral face, but he avoids your eyes.

You look at him reluctantly. So, since he didn’t know he could be giggling and shit with girls? Nah, no way.

“Yeah… And that’s the fucking problem” you attack with a broken voice, leaving him there standing alone. Avoiding a fight.

He’s about to follow you. But he stays there, not even understanding what happened. But he questioned if it was over. A struck strike him in the heart. If he unintentionally hurt you, he would be fully disappointed with himself. Not on Halloween night. Not one day before a special one for him.

He would do things right.

But for the rest of the night, you don’t leave his head and thoughts in peace.

…

30 missing messages, 4 missed calls, and 5 voicemails on the next morning.

First, Jess…

Hey, why you left the party? Please call me, I need to know what happened.

Babe, Miguel told me what happened last night. He’s an asshole, but he loves you so much. Please talk to him.

Then Peter.

My dear friend, I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. We were having such a great time. Listen, Miguel will try to talk to you. Tomorrow is a hard day for him. We know our boy, he’s not good with words and feelings, but he cares for you a lot. I talked to him all night after you left. He wasn’t right, but you have to talk to him, he loves you.

It’s gonna be fine, honey. Jess, me, the kids, we’re here for you. Love you!

And finally, Miguel.

Mi niña hermosa, I literally have no words to explain what happened last night. I just need you to know that… I love you. We need to talk about this, please.

Please, y/n. Tomorrow is Día de muertos and… I don’t want us to spend the day with misunderstandings.

Oh God…

Miguel sounded like a big teddy bear, saying lovely words to soothe you. It made your heart flutter, and it increased your hangover.

“Fuck…” you whispered, rubbing your eyes.

Flashes start hitting you. Having a great night, then seeing Miguel with Anya, and basically leaving him alone. How idiot you were.

You could have talked like a grown adult instead of throwing a tantrum and crying.

But you felt weird since he avoided telling you his plans for Halloween.

And finally, it hit you.

Maybe Miguel didn’t tell you anything because the following day of Halloween was Día de Muertos. A special day for him to remember his kid. He barely talked about Gabriella though. But the brief moments where he mentioned her to you, were unmatched. He missed his little girl. And you couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a daughter. You couldn’t leave Miguel alone. Or at least without an apology.

What a terrible girlfriend.

However, that didn’t excuse him from his poor communication skills.

You would do things right.

…

From both sides of the door, there's nervousness rushing.

You tug the hem of your skirt, then you hurry to brush your hair and wait. Miguel’s heart pounds as he suspects it’s you who’s knocking on the door. Since he rarely received visitors. So, when he opens the door, he finds you looking extremely shy and blushed.

“I’m sorry. I acted so immature, and I know today is a special day for you. I brought some things for you to use. And I’ll leave, I just wanted you-”

He pulls you in a tight hug, making you shut up. Around three minutes pass and he still holds you in his giant arms. You feel there are no more words needed as if the hug was a mutual apology.

Miguel digs his nose into your hair, smelling your shampoo and he thanks life for getting you two back together.

“I just wanted you here today with me…” he mumbles on your lips, before diving back and kissing your lips.

Finally, without breaking the kiss, he closes the door and leads you to the living room. His sneaky hands twirl you to make it easy. As your fingers get lost through his soft hair, he leans closer, holding your tiny waist compared to his hands. Your permission is when he stops his hands from traveling further, but you make him hold your hips. So, it’s enough. He kisses you with a smile on his face. Until you end up playing on his grey couch.

To you, is a bed. To Miguel, is his couch.

You know you’ll get your humbling moment. An impossible blush to miss appears and makes your boyfriend smirk.

“You don’t deserve it” his voice sounds deeper, and it sends shivers through your whole body and soul. Maybe you were guiltier than him, but you were so stubborn to act all submissive now. The best you could do was to take and savor what he decided to offer.

“But I’ll give it to you anyways…” your hands pull his shoulders to smash his lips again. Miguel knows he can proceed once his eyes are closed. So, he starts venturing his lips across your jaw and neck. You let out the first moan, and you’re glad you decided to appear on his doorstep.

…

The bed is wet. Not much, but there are some water spots that feel warm and cold at the same time. There’s also your empty wine glass when you turn left. Nueva York is setting for the sunset. You smile, stretching and savoring the pleasure of the little nap you took. Then Miguel comes in, in some damn grey sweats and his naked chest, your smile grows. And you can’t help but think you want him again.

Thank God you’re naked.

“You just woke up and you’re already looking that pretty?” you giggle at his comment. Your hair must be curled thanks to the shower. To Miguel, you look adorable, all his and only his.

“Put some shirt on…” he chuckled, cheekily.

“What? Am I turning you on again, bonita?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you hide under the covers laughing recklessly. And your heart pounds faster as you know he’ll likely scare you or something.

He does, and you have to scream. As you pop your head, you see him laughing.

“You just came out of the shower?” You ask him. Miguel probably washed your hair and took you out of the tub. Since you know you fell asleep as he washed your body in the tub.

“Not really. I just grabbed some things for the altar” his comment reminds you of what you’re celebrating that day. And suddenly you remember everything that led you to be there naked in his bed, and your heart warms.

“I’m sorry” you honestly say.

Miguel tilts his head, arms crossed, making him look broader than ever.

“I said it was okay, nena” he knows you want to say more. You make space for him to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, you said it. But… I want this relationship to succeed. I want to know we won’t go through this again.” He sighs, but quickly smiles, caressing your leg.

“It won’t happen again. Something bothers us, we talk” and just like that, you have your massive boyfriend kissing you all over. He said Anya was an old recruit, she was a good friend and lately, she rarely spent time on the HQ, so Miguel was happy to talk to her. And you blushed out of embarrassment.

“Can we go cooking now?” Miguel nods. After letting you go, he threw a big sweatshirt at you. It was dark brown and covered you from chest to knees.

“It’s been a while since I used the stove and oven…”

“Doesn’t matter, dear” As Miguel follows you across his apartment, he can’t help but notice how small you look in his place. And he reminds himself how weird you look in Nueva York, generally. You don’t belong to any specific earth. Chaos magic witches barely existed, and they never glitched.

You haven’t used magic in the last days since your last mission. Not even you had time to remember. Since the Halloween party, your mind had spun over your friends, Halloween, Miguel, her friend Anya, and your jealousy.

But soon he forgets again about it because you are eager to make pan de muerto with him.

“You can help me with the cream. We’re making a liquor and cheese filling” his mouth watered. Since he left his childhood home. He never did pan de muerto again.

His mother used to bake with some alcohol too, but the fillings weren’t very popular at the time. And now, being able to retake that tradition with you was special to him. His little girl would be very happy to his dad smiling again. Miguel mixes everything together and with a little spoon, he hands it to you.

“Is it good?” He asks shyly, you open your mouth, and he gives you to taste the filling.

“Wow, this is amazing, Miguel. I love it!” He smiles proudly. You are about to dip your finger in the cream to taste it again, but your man snatched it away.

“Hey!” He soothes your discontent with a new kiss. And you’re beyond shocked about how often Miguel was kissing you now. You let his tongue in, and between the rest of the cream and Miguel’s incredible kissing abilities, you had to moan again.

“Okay, pause. Or else we won’t finish” you explain, returning to the oven to see how the flour was getting puffy and the smell of orange filled the air of the kitchen.

Nueva York was welcoming the sunset early as the time was about to change in early November. So, the kitchen tiles reflect an interesting pink and orange illumination. Seeing Miguel placing the cream on a piping bag with the sunset in the window in front of him, makes you happy. The air is dry, and your nose feels dry too. There’s a warm wind that stumbles off the windows, startling you often, but it’s perfect.

You are in love.

…

“And… done!” You say lighting one last candle, you go back with Miguel to hug his waist and appreciate the art you two made. It’s a fucsia, orange, purple, and gold Altar de Muertos.

“This is perfect” Miguel admits. The altar has everything. The food; paletas payaso, bubulubus and picafresas. Then there’s a big plate of polvorones, flan, arroz con leche and agua de horchata. The candles make the pan de muerto shine because of the sugar. And the cempasúchil petals made everything look even prettier.

On the top shelf, Gabriella O’Hara’s picture was placed. She had a pink sweatshirt and her soccer headband. But her big smile and light blush are what made Miguel smile widely. He truly missed her. But he always knew having her on that earth wasn’t meant to be.

And now, he knew that thanks to that… he found you.

And who knows? Maybe Miguel could have a kid of his own in earth-928 someday with you. He had nothing to fear again. He knew you two were meant to fall into pieces together, just like it had happened. And Miguel also knew how proud Gabriella was of him. So, he was celebrating her short life. He would apologize every year from now on. But he would also use November 1st to remember how much he loved her.

Just like he did with you.

“Te amo mucho, preciosa” You raise your head to look at him in shock.

It was the first I love you. And he said it. But your emotion and love make you quickly answer.

“Yo también, Miguel” his head tilts to bump with yours in the most adorable way.

He walks away to grab something from the side of the altar. When he turns, he gives you a gorgeous bouquet of cempasúchil.

“I saved this for you” he scratches the back of his head, nervously.

“How did you know I wanted one?” It’s your smile that makes his days. And he intends to be a constant reason in the long term.

“I just knew. And when we were doing the altar… Fue tu carita la que te delató, bonita” Giggles and a blush erupt from you.

“Thanks, corazón” you thank him shyly.

Thankfully the sound of the oven makes you widen your eyes.

“OH! The rest of the pan” you squeal excitedly, almost running to the kitchen.

He follows you chuckling.

Soon, there are two plates of azulejos on the table, with two pieces of pan de muerto filled with liquor and cream cheese. Some candles are there too and the cempasúchil bouquet is now in water. As the pan starts to get less warm, you are softly kissing Miguel again. And for the first time in years, both of you are so happy to be celebrating Día de Muertos.

It wasn’t about death anymore. It was about love.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #oscar issac x reader

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krirebr · 7 months

Text

I Know I Should Know Better 2

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, minor Colin Shea x Female Reader

Word Count: 5418

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking, explicit language, bad boyfriend, self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. The reader's having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Part One Masterlist

A/N: We're back! I so enjoyed writing this part. I hope you like reading it! Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you thought will be greatly appreciated. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You were stretched out on one of your lounge chairs by the pool, sunglasses perched on your head, wearing a bikini with a sheer coverup draped over your shoulders and an aperol spritz in your hand as you tried, for the third time, to get through this script. It was unbelievably dull. And the female lead was barely a person. You were clearly wrong for it. At least ten years too young, for a start. But your agent, Wilford, was insistent that you read it. Some up and coming guy was attached to it and apparently, he could be ‘talked into you’ for it. And as Wilford always said, “It’s not what it is, it’s what it represents.” So you would read it. And you’d tell him why you didn’t like it, and he’d talk you into it anyway. Same as it ever was.

You heard the door to the patio open and close. Michelle and Curtis had both been out doing who knows what and now you figured one of them was back and needed something from you. You’d been grateful to have the time on your own after a few days of Curtis’s careful glances. You didn’t remember exactly what you’d said or done after your fight with Colin outside the club, but you woke up with the feeling that you’d said something to Curtis and the way he’d watched you since seemed to confirm it. But he hadn’t said anything, so you hoped that you hadn’t embarrassed either of you too much.

When you looked up, it wasn’t either Curtis or Michelle who was standing on your deck.

“Mom!” you said. You blamed your shock for the fact that the next words out of your mouth were “Who let you in?” She was supposed to go through Michelle if she was going to visit, give a few days notice, let you prepare yourself.

“Who let me in?” she asked, aghast, her Chanel bag swaying aggressively from her arm. “That’s how you greet your mother? Who let me in?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice small. You were not prepared for this today. “I was just surprised.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You and your rules. Well, if you must know, it was the young man with the goatee and muscles. I don’t think I’ve seen him before. He’s not nearly as rude as the other people that work for you.”

“He’s new on my security team. His name’s Jensen.”

She waved dismissively at that. Of course she wouldn’t be bothered to remember. She sat down on the lounge chair next to yours and fanned her long, floral caftan out around her. “I bet you don’t give your father this runaround.”

Your father only ever called you on your birthday and at Christmas, content to live with his new family in Utah and only drop your name when it could get him something. So technically no, you never gave him the runaround.

“Well, how are you darling?”

“Um,” you bit your lip. Conversations with your mother always felt like a game you didn’t know the rules to. “Fine, I guess.”

She hummed in affirmation. “You’ve been all over the gossip sites.”

You groaned. “You shouldn’t look at those. It’s all bullshit.”

“Well, maybe if my daughter called me occasionally, I wouldn’t have to resort to a google alert to see how she’s doing. People on deux moi are saying you’re rude to your fans. And then there are reports of you fighting in clubs with your boyfriend.”

You shrunk in on yourself. Michelle did her best to keep all that away from you, but you still knew how people talked about you. “I told you. It’s all bullshit,” you mumbled.

“Well, it’s not the sort of reputation you want to have.”

“I know,” you said weakly.

“Whatever happened to that other boy you were seeing? What was his name? Jimmy? With the snowboard? I liked him”

“Johnny? I haven’t talked to him in, like, a year,” you said. She’d only met him in passing when you’d unexpectedly run into her at a restaurant opening. It’d been right in the middle of the one month you’d dated him.

Your mom scoffed. “Well, who can be expected to keep up, with how quickly you go through them?”

You clenched your fists where they rested on your thighs. This was just how she was. Feeling hurt by her never did any good. “Why are you here, Mom? Do you need something?”

“I’m here because I am your mother and I want to have a relationship with you, even though you don’t seem to want one with me. But,” she paused and you fought the sinking feeling in your stomach, “now that you mention it, Luka and I are going to France next week and what you’ve given me for the month just isn’t going to cover it.”

You closed your eyes for a moment. Of course this was about her allowance. “Mom,” you said, focusing on the part of her request that didn’t have anything to do with your money, “who is Luka?”

Her face went hard. “You would know who he is,” she said, “if you ever listened to me. You’ve always been so self-absorbed, you know that? You never think about anyone else.”

Your hand moved to grip the chair beneath you as you tried to take a deep breath. You were sure she’d never mentioned him before. You would remember. For all she gave you a hard time about dating around, she was just as bad, if not worse. The only difference was that her hookups didn’t get reported on. But you didn’t have the energy for the screaming match this would devolve into if you pointed that out, so you just said, “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten.”

“Sure,” she scoffed. “He’s someone who’s very important to me. And so is this trip.”

“You know I don’t control any of that. You have to go through my accountant.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, frustration bubbling over. “I already called him, obviously. He said you have to sign off on it first. It’s like you all think I enjoy having to come here and ask for money. When it was my hard work that got you all this.”

She loved to do this, bring that up. And you knew that she’d worked hard and sacrificed a lot. You did. She was the one who got you an agent and drove you to auditions and acting coaches and put your team together. But both your parents acted like you were just a doll that they’d placed in front of the cameras and then pulled your string to make you talk. You’d worked hard too and you were just a kid when you did it.

But, again, if you said any of that it would just start a fight and if you’d learned anything on all those sets as a child, it was that fights with your parents were to be avoided at all costs. You would never win. So you just said, “I know, mom. I know everything you’ve done for me. I’ll call him and tell him it’s fine.”

She started to brighten. “Today? You’ll do it today?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it today.”

She patted your knee and smiled warmly at you. You did your best to pretend that it didn’t feel like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “You’re such a dear,” she said. “We’re trying to get everything booked, so time is of the essence! Text me the name of the place you stayed last time you were in Paris. Your pictures were incredible!” She was getting up now, hoisting her bag back up her arm.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, disappointed despite yourself.

“I’m so busy, honey, So much to do! But let me know as soon as you talk to him. And we’ll have dinner as soon as I get back, you, me and Luka! And you can bring your boy too! I want to try that new sushi place, down on Vine? They’re booked out for months, but I’m sure they’ll have a table for you!” Just as she was getting to the door back into the house, Curtis came out of it. He stepped out in front of her, narrowing his eyes, and pulling himself up to his full height. “Perfect timing,” she muttered, “your guard dog is here.”

“Mom,” you sighed.

She just rolled her eyes at you. “Calm down, it’s fine. He knows I’m joking. Don’t you, Carter?” You grimaced, but Curtis didn’t react.

“Ma’am,” he said, without any inflection at all. You could see her bristle at the address; she hated anything that reminded her that she was old enough to have an adult daughter. But she didn’t say anything else, just gave you one final wave and then moved past him into the house.

You took a deep breath, and then another, wrapping your cover up around yourself as tightly as you could. “Are you ok?” Curtis asked, startling you. He was closer now than you’d realized, standing right beside you. You’d never understand how a man that large could sneak up on you like that, but you were always surprised by the reality of him.

You shook your head and his brow furrowed. You shook it again, “No, I’m fine. I’m fine, it’s just–” you trailed off and shrugged. She always left you so jumbled. “It was fine.”

“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said, sounding deathly serious. “Jensen’s been talked to. He knows better now. It won’t happen again, not without Michelle’s say so.”

You nodded and picked at your sleeve. “Do you think I’m awful?”

“Why would I think that?” he asked, his voice so soft.

You shrugged. “She’s my mom and I make her jump through all these hoops just to see me.”

He nodded slowly and stared out over your pool. “I think,” he started, but then paused for a moment. “I think that you aren’t the kind of person who would just do that for the sake of it. I can’t imagine you ever being that spiteful. If this is something you need, then there’s a reason for it.”

He did that sometimes, made statements about your character that left you reeling, that made you wonder about the person he saw when he looked at you. It always seemed so different from the person you saw in the mirror.

You looked up at him, but he was still focused somewhere on the horizon. You were struck by how beautiful he was, as the sun shone down on him. His broad form, immaculate stubble, long lashes. You tried to think of him as just the wall of muscles that protected you from the world, but it was getting harder every day to ignore the ineffable Curtis-ness of him. He was so much, too much.

“What’d she want?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Money, like always.”

“You ever think about saying no?”

You shook your head. “She’s not wrong when she says she sacrificed a lot and worked hard to get me here. She did. I wouldn’t be here without her. If this is what she wants from me,” you shrugged, “I feel like I should give it to her.”

He hummed at that and went quiet again. You looked down, went back to picking at the thread on your sleeve. After several moments, he said, “I think if you looked at all the sacrifices you made to get yourself here, and everything you’ve already done for her, you might see that you come out more even than you expect.” He finally looked back at you and nodded to himself. “I’ll leave you alone now. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

As he walked back into the house, you felt like your skin was too tight. You tried to shake it off and grabbed your phone. It was too quiet. You needed something to distract you. You pulled up Colin’s contact and sent a quick I want to see you text. Then you threw your phone on the lounger, shrugged off your cover-up, and dove head first into the pool.

When Colin showed up a few hours later, he was on you immediately, pulling you out of the pool and back over to the lounge chair where he settle you between his legs. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he breathed into your chest as he laid back, bring you with him. When you resisted, he sat up, pushing his face into your neck and starting to trail kisses along your collar bone.

“Colin, it’s been a weird day,” you said, trying to push him down. Instead of backing off, his lips found your chest, just above your bikini. You tried again to slow him down. “Hey, hold on. Come on. I’m trying to talk to you. My mom stopped by out of the blue.”

Colin finally sat back with an annoyed huff. “Okay?” he said, “And?”

“And, I don’t know, seeing her always makes me feel really off and I just wanted to see you. Wanted you to come over and make me feel better.”

“Isn’t that what I was doing?” he asked with a grin, running his hands down your sides and then up your back, stopping to play with the string tying your bikini together.

“Colin, I’m being serious! I just, like, want to tell you about my day and have you listen to me. Okay? I just need someone to listen.”

He looked up at you and you leaned back a little at the annoyance in his eyes. “You seriously dragged me all the way out here to talk at me about your mom? I left a studio session early for you.”

“Ok, well, I didn’t know you were busy! You could’ve just said.”

“You’re so hot,” he said, starting to paw at you again. ��How could I say no to you?”

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the best way to make you feel better. What good would talking do? What you really needed was to stop thinking. You leaned into him again and he picked up where he left off. “We could go out,” you said. “Get real fucked up.”

“Mmm,” he said, with his face in your neck and his fist in your hair. “That sounds fun. You gonna promise not to abandon me in an alley this time?”

You pushed back against his shoulders and sat up with a glare. “Don’t be a dick.”

He rolled his eyes. “It was a joke. I’m joking.”

“It isn’t funny. I already apologized. And you never apologized for flirting with that girl.”

“This again? Seriously? I didn’t apologize because I didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t flirting, you’re just insecure.”

“Fuck you,” you said, standing up and putting as much distance between you as you could on your deck.

He rolled his eyes at you again and started picking up his stuff. “You’re so fucking high maintenance, you know that? One of these days, I’m going to wake up and decide you aren’t worth it.”

“Yeah?” You sneered, the pit in your stomach that started with your mom’s surprise appearance growing bigger. “Is that going to be before or after you use my instagram account to boost your album sales?”

“Fuck off. You think you’re so important. I don’t need your help.”

You threw your arms in the air. “Then why do you keep demanding it?”

“Whatever. I can’t believe I came all the way out here for this.” He shot you one final glare, before heading back out the way he came.

You stood at the edge of your pool and looked out over the canyon that expanded beyond your property. “Fuck!” you shouted. It didn’t make you feel any better.

You picked up your phone and started scrolling through your contacts. You didn’t want to be alone right now. You just needed someone to talk to. But everyone in your phone was a ‘going out friend’ or an ‘impromptu house party friend.’ And suddenly, the thought of going out, with the loud music, and flashing lights, and all the paparazzi yelling at you, made you want to crawl out of your skin. You scrolled through your whole contact list again. You didn’t have a single person who you thought might drop everything and come spend the night on your couch with you. You didn’t think you ever had. You felt tears starting to gather in your eyes and quickly wiped them away. This was dumb. You were fine. You could spend one night alone.

You walked back into your house to find Curtis glaring at his phone, leaning against your kitchen island.

“Hey,” you said, trying to get his attention. When he looked up at you, you saw him take all of you in. Your wet hair, bikini, tense shoulders, and your eyes, which you could feel were still damp. He straightened up, looking very concerned. “Um,” you looked down, feeling like you needed to avoid his gaze, “I’m not going out again today, so you’re free to go. You and Jensen.”

“Ok,” he said.

You looked back up to find him still looking at you carefully. When he finally started to move, you panicked and added, “Or, um, I’m probably just going to order a ton of food and just, like, watch TV, so if you wanted to, you could, um, you could stay. And, like, just hang out.” What the fuck did you just do? You were so pathetic. Why would you do that? What was wrong wit–

“Yeah, sure, I can stay.”

“Oh!” You didn’t know how to keep the shock off of your face. Or the intense relief. You started to feel yourself calm, just a little bit, for the first time all day. “Ok, great. I’ll just order the food – Thai ok?” He nodded. “And then take a shower and change. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he said. “I’ll let Jensen know that he’s good to head home.”

You just nodded and went upstairs.

After a long shower, you dressed in your comfiest pair of sweats and a large old t-shirt, clothes that usually stayed buried at the bottom of your drawer. You went down to your living room to find Curtis unpacking the bags of food onto your coffee table, the TV softly playing at a low volume.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

He looked up at you and nodded. “I grabbed a couple beers too, that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, grabbing one and pressing yourself into the corner of your large sectional.

“You want a little of everything?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he started making you a plate.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He handed you a plate piled high and a fork, then started serving himself. “You doing ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shrugged, “just a shitty day.”

He sat down a few spaces away from you. “Colin wasn’t here very long,” he said with a practiced casualness.

“No,” you frowned, “he wasn’t.”

“Can I ask you a question that’s none of my business?”

You looked at him warily, “Sure.”

“Why on earth are you with him?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “Uh,” you stopped to think, “the sex is pretty good.” He’d known where your clit was, which was more than you could say for a lot of your exes. “He can be fun to go out with. And we look good together. I don’t know, he gets it, which not a lot of people do.”

Curtis looked at you confused, “Gets what?”

“The whole thing. Just, what it means to be with me. Like, that I’m going to get recognized when we go out, and there’s always going to be paparazzi around, and sometimes I’m going to have to be on location for months at a time. It’s just there’s all this stuff around me. Being with me, it’s asking a lot, you know? But he gets recognized too, sometimes, and he doesn’t mind getting his picture taken and he goes on tour and stuff. He’s more willing to put up with it all.”

His brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be something to be ‘put up with’”

You shook your head and waved his comment away. “You know what I mean. Anyway, moot point, probably. I think I’m done. He wasn’t very nice to me today and I’m just kind of over it.”

“Probably just as well. His band is terrible.”

You let out a big, loud laugh at that, head thrown back, as you felt some of the stress of the day slide off of you. When you glanced at Curtis, he was watching you, pleased. Proud of himself. It sparked a little blossom of warmth in your heart, and you ducked your head.

After a few moments of comfortable quiet, he cleared his throat. “For the record, anyone who makes you feel like it’s hard to be with you probably isn’t worth being with.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You could feel him watching you but you were suddenly too afraid to look at him. After too long a pause, you said, “Well, you just described all of my exes, so…” with a weak little chuckle. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel your feeble attempt at a joke fall flat. You focused intently on your plate and shoved some food in your mouth for want of anything else to do. After a few minutes, you tried to change the subject. “I feel like now I should get to ask you something that’s none of my business.”

“Yeah? What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” you said, looking back at him. He leaned back into the couch, plate balanced on one thigh, a beer in his hand. It was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. “I don’t really know anything about you.” You studied him carefully, feeling like this was your one chance at something, you weren’t sure what. “What were you like as a kid?” you asked without thinking, and then immediately regretted it. What an embarrassing question.

He didn’t laugh or roll his eyes at you, though. He just took a drink of his beer and then said, “Angry. I was really angry all the time.” You didn’t say anything, waiting to see if he’d volunteer more information or change the subject. He took another drink, then added, “I grew up in a few different foster homes and I was just mad, at everything. An angry little thing. Finally, when I was a teenager, I crossed paths with someone who gave a shit. Helped me figure out how to channel it, move past it.”

You sat for a moment, deathly afraid of saying the wrong thing. You didn’t want him to think you felt sorry for him, pitied him. You didn’t. But it felt glib to say you admired him for it or that he must have been so strong. You settled on “Thank you for telling me.”

He nodded and took a bite of his food. Once he swallowed, he asked “What about you? What kind of kid were you?”

You blanched slightly. You normally hated talking about your childhood, but in this moment it felt like it might be ok, like you didn’t have to sugarcoat it. Like you wouldn’t get in trouble for being honest. “I was really lonely. Um, I was never really in school? Or, I guess I was for the first couple years, but my parents were constantly pulling me out for auditions and commercials and stuff. And then when I was 9, I booked the show, and so from then on it was all studio tutors. And there were never really any other kids on the set. So, I don’t know, I was just by myself a lot of the time. Or with my parents.” You grimaced. “Even now, I feel like if I’m not working, I don’t really know how to interact with people. Never really learned how.”

“You’re doing fine right now,” he said, voice so gentle it made you squirm a little bit.

“You don’t count.” He raised an eyebrow at you and you shrugged. “I’ve always been comfortable with you.” You weren’t sure why that felt so much like a confession, but when you met his eyes and saw how serious they were, you knew he felt it too. You took a sip of your beer. “My turn.”

“Your turn?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, “it’s a game now.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled and gestured for you to go ahead. “Are you seeing anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t date much.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “I have other stuff going on right now. And my work hours can be kind of weird and unpredictable.” He must have seen the way your face started to fall, because he rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and said. “This isn’t your fault. I just have other priorities right now. I’m sure that if there was something I was looking for, I’d be able to find it.”

“Yeah, you definitely would,” you said with a laugh. He looked at you somewhat quizzically and it was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Oh, come on! I know you know how hot you are.”

He cleared his throat and let out a small chuckle. “Uh,” he said, as he rubbed the back of his head and you noticed that his ears were turning red. He was uncomfortable. You had made your big, scary bodyguard bashful. It immediately filled you with so much glee. “That’s maybe been mentioned to me, once or twice,” he finally choked out. Just as you started cackling, he cut in, “Ok, me now. When was the last time you took a break?”

You looked around with a slightly furrowed brow. “You mean, like, other than right now?”

He shook his head. “No, I mean, I’ve been with you almost two years now and you’ve worked nonstop pretty much the entire time. When was the last time you took a real, sustained break?”

“Oh, um,” you had to stop and actually think about that. Everything had always been go go go, ever since you were a kid. And even once you were an adult, everytime you thought about slowing down, there was always something to capitalize on, an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored. “Oh! The summer I was, I think, 12? Maybe 13? I didn’t book anything for hiatus and my parents were so mad. But I just got to hang out all summer. It was amazing. There was this girl my age who lived down the street. And we would just like, hang out in her backyard, or go to the pool, walk to get ice cream. Whatever we wanted to do. I was so excited to have a real friend. It was the best summer I ever had.”

“Did you keep in touch?” he asked softly, startling you when his fingers brushed against yours.

“No, the next season was when they started to really beef up my role, which meant I got paid more, so we moved. I never saw her again. Which was fine. It was really fun while it lasted.”

When you made eye contact with Curtis, there was a touch of sadness there that you couldn’t stand to look at, so you went back to your food. You were fine. Look at everything you had! You were good. You had no reason to be sad.

“You should think about taking a year off,” he said quietly.

You looked back up at him and scoffed, “A year?!”

“You just told me you haven’t had a real break in 13 years. I think a year is reasonable. I know you’re doing fine financially. You should think about it.”

“Maybe,” you said, but you were sure that no one involved in your career would let that happen. You couldn’t even imagine it. “Okay, my question. What do you do when you aren’t looking after me?”

“Aside from sleep?” he asked, laughing at himself. You were instantly mesmerized by the sound. You didn’t think you’d ever heard it before. Dry chuckles, yes, but an actual laugh? You felt instantly addicted to it. “Uh, I go to the gym most days. I like to read, whenever I have the time. I’ve kind of been teaching myself how to cook, here and there. I don’t know, I’m not that interesting.”

You begged to differ, but saying that felt like too much. Like it would reveal more than you even realized. You were done eating now, so you put your plate on the coffee table and shifted to get more comfortable, bringing your legs up under the rest of you. As you did, your knees brushed against Curtis’s thighs. You stopped, surprised, and looked at where your bodies touched. Without realizing it, at some point during the conversation, you’d both eliminated the space between you. Wanting to see how far you could push it, while ignoring just how much you wanted the physical contact, you adjusted yourself again, so that now your thigh pushed against his. You watched for his reaction very carefully, while trying to look like that was the last thing you were doing. Something fluttered inside of you when he pressed imperceptibly closer. “It’s your turn,” you whispered.

He turned so that he could look at you fully and just watched you for a moment. You could almost see him thinking, trying to find the perfect question. Finally, “What would you do if you weren’t acting?”

You felt your brain short out for a second. “Like, instead?” You asked dumbly. He nodded. “Um, I have no idea? This is all I’ve ever done. I don’t think I’m really good at anything else.”

“I highly doubt that,” he said and you were thrown off by how sure he sounded. You weren’t sure anyone had ever sounded so confident about you before, especially when it was so unfounded.

“Well, it’s true,” you said and wincing internally at how harsh it sounded. “I don’t know. I don’t like that question.” Your skin was too tight again and you felt so, so small. He was seeing all of you now, how little there was, and had surely found you wanting.

“Ok, that’s fine,” he said quietly, like he was talking to a spooked horse. Something about it made you want to flip over the coffee table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to– I’m sorry.” You just nodded and folded in on yourself. “We can stop playing.”

“No,” you said. “I still have one question left.” There was really only one you wanted an answer to. “Why did you stay tonight?”

He didn’t stop to think before he answered. “Because you seemed like you needed me to.”

“That’s not part of your job,” you said, feeling defiant without really knowing why.

“No, it’s not.”

You didn’t know what to do with him. This wasn’t how people treated you. You were either something to be vaunted or something they could use. Your parents, your friends, the people who worked for you, the people you dated. They all wanted to get something out of you. Curtis never seemed to want anything from you. But he didn’t put you on a pedestal either. He had always treated you like just a person. It was unnerving. What were you supposed to do with that?

You turned back to the TV, finally registering what was on. It was some reality show you’d never seen before. “I have no idea what this is,” you said.

“Me neither.”

Whatever comfortable calm that had existed between the two of you on this couch, it was gone now. You curled up, placing your chin on your knees. “I’m probably going to fall asleep.” You were exhausted, not just today, but in your bones.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked.

All you could do was shake your head and let out a small, whispered, “No.” As all over the place as you felt, you knew you weren’t ready to be alone yet, weren’t ready for him to leave.

“Ok,” he said, softly, as you felt his arm moving behind you to rest on the back of the couch. “I’ll stay.”

Part Three

#curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett #snowpiercer #bodyguard!curtis everett x actress!reader #bodyguard!curtis everett #chris evans fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #bodyguard au #series #i know i should know better #kris wrote something

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starry-eyes-love · 4 months

Text

Ch 8- A Christmas Story

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

My Journey to You Series: Ch. 8- A Christmas Story (can read as a stand alone or in order with the series).

Pairings | Joel Miller x F!Reader with a lot of Ellie interactions

Summary | A Christmas Story in January, three wishes granted, and finally the concept of a family once again…and F!Reader and Joel’s teasing hit an all time high between them.

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI. Language, slight angst (Joel and reader overthinks stuff again), sexual tension/teasing to the max, panic attack (Joel has one), a ton of fluffy fluff fluff stuff (like a ton), a lot of funny/cute little moments, references to smut (without actual smut though), passionate kissing, terms of endearment (baby, honey, etc.), Ellie calls Joel dad (it needs its own warning), Joel hears Sarah’s voice, Christmas theme stuff, water and snowball fight, Ellie and Joel banter, implied age gap (without any reference to age), Christmas cookies, family and marriage dynamic references, and I don’t want to spoil too much more. This one is a tear jerker (funny laughter and fluffy stuff wise) but in the best possible way for them. And a ring may be involved (shhh). Ok, not going to spoil it anymore…just read it…oh and an old guy in a fat Santa suit :)

Word Count: 10.9 K (not sorry really)

Ellie immediately started laughing as Joel struggled with the Santa suit. “Joel, you look funny in a fat suit,” she said, laughing out loud at a pillow peeking through his Santa jacket. “I haven't heard of no Joel before, I'm Santa.” He said, with a husky voice. “So what happened to Joel? Did ya kill him when you landed your fat ass on top of him with your sleigh…”

Joel had hunted for the perfect Christmas tree. He tried to find one that wasn’t too big or too small, something that would easily fit inside the cabin. After searching for the better part of a day, Joel finally found one that was perfect. You had been sitting by the fire, relaxing after making jerky for food, when you heard Joel through the door say “Hey, can ya help me with this?”

When you opened your eyes and peered through the window you gasped at seeing the tree. “Joel, are you serious? Did you actually get us a Christmas tree?” you said, eyes bright and a huge smile plastered on your face. It had been ages since you had a Christmas tree, let alone a proper Christmas. Christmas was always your favorite holiday and you were absolutely blown away that Joel was making the effort to give you something from your childhood, even though it was long past the holiday season.

After the tree was up, Ellie and you searched the storage totes again and found some old Christmas decorations with lights. There were only a few ornaments in the storage containers, so you improvised. You hung a few spoons, a hunting knife that was broken, a few old holey socks, and a few pieces of paper that had fallen out from old books; all of which were placed on the tree like ornaments. It wasn't the best looking tree, but it meant something to the three of you. It showed that even with survival, there was still a chance of having a family once again.

The following days after you put up the tree you kept to yourself more, getting lost in your own thoughts of the past again. You thought about what time of the year it was, and by your calculations and best estimate, you figured it was sometime in the middle of January. Technically Christmas was in the past, being a December holiday. When you brought this fact up to Joel, he told you to stop worrying. That the whole point of any of this was to give Ellie a taste of Christmas, no matter what time of year or suggested date it was on the calendar. No one kept a calendar anymore, all any of you could do was guess.

You tried not to worry, but you started overthinking again. You didn't tell anyone, but you silently hoped that Christmas would bring you a family once again. You knew Joel hadn't said that he loved you yet, but you were hoping he'd say it now for Christmas. What you didn't know was that Joel had been saying that he loved you, but just in Spanish, and you didn’t speak Spanish. Joel said ‘te amo’ almost every day to you, which meant that he loved you. He said it in front of Ellie once, and you saw Ellie's eyes go wide. Joel shot her a quick glare to be quiet. When you had asked her why she reacted that way, and if she understood Spanish, she said no. You didn't voice it, but you knew that she was lying. You tried asking Joel again what ‘te amo meant’, but he never answered you. He just walked outside and pretended not to hear you. You were starting to think that maybe your idea of Joel telling you that he loved you was wrong, that actually he was being mean to you once again, but this time in Spanish. You were so lost and confused, overthinking things once again in your head.

In the following days when you heard that the traps needed to be checked and reset, you volunteered to do it. This allowed you to mull things over in your head, without interruption or having to explain why you were being more quiet and keeping to yourself. You were gone for the better part of a day, taking longer than normal to check and reset the traps. You were so lost in thought, bent over and working on the last trap that you never heard Joel approach.

“Ya know, I didn't think watchin’ you attempt to check and rest a trap for the last 20 minutes would be so sexy. But I guess I was wrong.” He said, leaning up against a tree with his arms crossed.

You slowly straightened up and glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow up at him. You didn't want to argue or fight, so you were wary of saying anything. When you looked at Joel, frustration was not what you saw. You saw him look at you like he was a wolf, and that you were his prey. His eyes were dark and pupils blown wide with lust. When you trailed your eyes down his body, you saw a tight prominent bulge in the front. The longer you looked, the more you felt your own heat rise up in your spine, and a deep throb started someplace else inside of you. How can that man stand there and look that damn sexy, you thought to yourself.

Joel stared at you, wondering the same thing. Damn woman. You're making it so fucking hard f’me. I just wanna bend ya over right there and fuck that nice tight lil’ ass of yours. Joel's thoughts were running rampant in his head, he was fighting hard to keep his calm composure and not give in to his animal instincts. After a moment of eye fucking you he said in a husky voice, “Ya wanna bend over for me, nice and slow baby? Let me see that nice tight ass of yours?”

“Yeah, well Miller, you can't touch now can you?” You said, smiling at Joel, trying to push the beast in front of you to give in and devour you. You craved Joel in every possible way. And by the way he was glaring at you, you figured he was thinking the same thing that you were. You wanted him desperately to stop being so noble, to just give in to his animal urges and claim you completely as his.

With a slight smirk and another slow palm to his crotch Joel said, “well baby, that's why I'm asking ya to bend back over f’me. I wanna see that nice, big-”

“You better not be referring to my ass as being big there old man, or so help me God, that'll be the last time you see it in this position.” You glared at Joel, silently challenging him to continue.

You saw Joel swallow hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down at your statement. Apparently your mouth turned him on. God, why did your smartass attitude sound so incredibly sexy to him right now? You watched Joel place his hands on his hips, slowly taking a few steadying breaths. It was getting harder and harder for him to deny you. This little chase game between the two of you was heating up, and Joel was miserable. You've been teasing the fuck out of him for days, not kissing him or allowing him to touch you sexually. He was about two seconds away from saying screw it and give in to you. He wanted you, desperately. Evidence of this was inside his pants right now, straining hard against his zipper. Throbbing and pulsing to every fast beat of his heart, reminding him that even in this unforgiving world, that he was still a man that had needs. And his needs were screaming at him to bend you over and claim that perfect little cunt of yours as his. God man, get a fucking grip on yourself.

Joel scolded himself internally, he remembered the discussion the two of you have had recently regarding the act of penetration. “Joel, do I not turn you on, do you not want sex? Every time I try, you say no. I want to. Please.” Your thoughts and mouth had overflowed with doubt and anxiety at his relationship with you recently. It wasn't like he didn't want to have sex, God he wanted nothing more than to give in and give you everything. But he was trying to do this right, or so he thought. “Just a little while longer,” he had said to you. But the more he watched you right now, the more he started to question his own logic.

Joel, being so lost in thought, was surprised when you slowly bent over and ran your hand up the back of your ass. “Mr. Miller, I want you to fuck this so bad.” You had said, looking back at him, pleading with your eyes.

Joel was trying to be a good man for you, a true gentleman. But you almost made him cum right there on the spot with that move. Right now he wanted to throw all caution out of the way and just bury himself deep inside of you, claim you as truly his. With a low growl, and a firm palm to his crotch, Joel looked at you with warning eyes and said, “Darlin', ya can't say shit like that t’me and expect me not to-” Joel had to stop himself before he fully admitted to his weakness. He knew that if he told you that he wanted to fuck you, that you'd touch him. And the moment you'd touch him would be when his last resolve would snap, and he'd give in to you with no restraint.

When you looked back at Joel, he looked completely wrecked. That man is truly like iron steel with his resolve. Holding back and not giving in, you thought. For a moment you truly were impressed with his ability to say no. But as the intense stare down continued, you knew he was on the verge of breaking and giving you what you wanted. But by how black his pupils looked, you knew he wouldn’t be able to be gentle, and that terrified and excited you all at the same time. You wanted him to give you everything that he had, to not hold back anymore, and to just let himself feel something. “Ya alright?” you said, while walking over to Joel. When he didn't respond, you were concerned. So with a long exhale you said, “Look Joel, I'm sorry, I-”

“No ya ain't. Ya ain't fucking sorry and you know it. Fuck woman, ya need to stop teasing me like this.” He said, pointing down at the front of him. You could see that he was uncomfortable, pants visibly tight around his big length. He was slightly throbbing through his denim jeans as his belt fit nice and snug on his waist. His lips were slightly parted as he slowly licked them, getting them nice and moist. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavy, cock twitching at your staring eyes. You heard a low growl emit from his chest as he said with a stern voice “quit fucking staring at me like that, and stop your god damn teasing, now.”

When you slowly raised your eyes up to Joel’s face, you saw the wild man, the wolf within him, stare back at you. Joel had that look in his eyes of pure dominance. He wanted you to challenge him, so he could claim you as truly his. Every warning bell was going off in your head from him, and you did the only thing that you knew you could do in this situation. You pushed him a little more, wanting his resolve to snap hard. “Teasing you? I'm not teasing you Joel.” You said, allowing irritation to lace your voice. Here you were minding your own business, thinking about stuff when he told you that you looked sexy and to bend over, and now giving you fuck me eyes. What the fuck was his problem, he was teasing you, you thought.

Joel didn't say anything, but he continued to look at you breathing hard. He knew you were challenging him, hoping that he’d lash out and teach you a lesson. You two had a lot of sexual tension building up over the past few months. And honestly, you two needed to fuck it out, but here was not the proper time nor place to do it. So he gently shook his head no, and took three steps back from you, dropping his hands to his sides while whispering “baby, we can’t.”

You knew that Joel was backing down, retreating from his feelings once again. And this made you frustrated. This was the whole reason why you were out here in the first place. You needed some time to be away from the tension inside the house, from the constant reminder that Joel didn’t want you sexually the way that you wanted him. So when you turned back around to go back to the trap, you were surprised to feel Joel grab your arm. Confusion laced your face when you looked down at his contact with you. His voice, almost in a pained whisper said, “baby please, just wait a sec. Maybe we could, I- uh want to, I want- shit.” He said, shaking his head.

“Joel, what is it?” You were hoping that if he couldn’t do the act that he obviously wanted to do, that maybe he could just at least talk about it with you.

Joel just stared at you, pleading with his eyes for you to understand him. He wanted to say ‘Baby, I love you and wanna fuck you so bad,’ but he couldn't voice it to you. Joel was scared. He was scared of feeling the things he felt for you in a world that was truly unforgiving. He didn't want to feel the pain of losing you, like he had when he lost Sarah. He also didn't want to be alone anymore. So with a huff he said “looks like ya got it all figured out. Don't- don't take too much more time.”

When he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed him by the arm and said, “what, no kiss goodbye?” You wanted something to hold on to, something that said that all this sexual tension was worth it, that he wanted you. That maybe he actually did love you. But when you saw Joel looking at you with a stone cold look on his face, one that was also mixed with pain, you heard him whisper “no” as he pulled further away.

“Why? Did I do something wrong? Joel, what did I do so wrong, why don’t you want to-”

“No darlin' you didn't do anything wrong.” He said, stopping and smiling kindly at you. “I just- it ain't a good idea right now is all, ok. We can’t, not here. I need to get back.” And with that he yanked his arm out of your grasp and marched towards the cabin once again.

You called back to him and said “why? Joel, I don't understand,” but he never stopped. You were left standing there, now more confused than ever, thinking to yourself, what in the hell was that?

Do you want me to fuck you? Is that what you want? Your words kept playing over and over again in Joel's head from the other night as he marched back to the cabin. Do you even want me Joel? He couldn't stop the racing thoughts as they entered his mind.

When he got back to the cabin, he went inside. Once he was inside he slammed his fist onto the closed door, placing his head against it with his eyes closed. He was breathing hard and fast, heart pounding hard inside his chest. He tried to slow his breathing down when he felt the ache in his chest start again, like it has so many times before. But this time it was a little different, he felt a tightness take over too. His vision started to blur, and his ears began to ring. He was spiraling out of control into a god forsaken panic attack once again.

Before he was sucked too far down into his fears, he felt someone put their hand on his back and softly whisper, “dad you're gonna be ok. Just breathe. Come on, slow breaths for me.”

“I can't, it's too much.” He said, eyes shut tight as he felt his heart pound hard into his chest.

“No, it's not too much. One long breath in, hold for two seconds, then exhale for three. Come on dad, with me.”

Joel heard the breaths going in and out, and the voice that attempted to calm him. He thought he was hallucinating, hearing Sarah’s voice once again, but it sounded different from what he usually could hear in his mind. As he tried to focus on breathing, he struggled. Then he heard the voice say in a soft and gentle manner again, “What scared you?”

“I don't wanna be alone, but I don't want to feel the pain of losing you again” he said, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest at the admittance of what caused his panic attack to start.

“You ain't gonna be alone dad, we love you. Now come on, breathe with me and repeat after me ‘I’m safe, I'm calm, I'm loved.’”

Joel repeated it multiple times, for several minutes, listening to the voice calm him and slow his breathing down. His heart had returned to normal in his chest, vision no longer cloudy and ears no longer ringing. Finally he took a big breath in and out, steadying himself once again. But before he opened his eyes he heard the voice say, “I love you dad, please never forget it.” And then the soft voice was gone. Joel opened his eyes and looked behind him as he slowly watched Ellie walk towards her bedroom. It was then that he realized the soft voice wasn't Sarah, it was Ellie. And his heart constricted once again, but this time out of love for the teenager he traveled with. “Thanks baby girl” he whispered as Ellie walked away. Ellie never acknowledged it, but she heard him loud and clear.

Once you got back, Joel was already in his room with the door shut. Ellie said that when he returned, he just walked in saying that he wasn't feeling well, and then went to lay down in his bedroom. She never told you that he had a panic attack, and that she helped him calm down. You sat talking with Ellie for a bit, she continued to ask you a million questions about what life was like before during Christmas. Eventually you felt your eyelids grow heavy, so with a smile you said “I'm gonna go and get some sleep Ellie. It’s been a long day.” You were still hurt and sensitive about your earlier discussion with Joel, second guessing his feelings for you once again.

Ellie just nodded at you, not saying anything in return. As you got to the hallway you heard her say “just so ya know, te amo means I love you or love you in Spanish. Joel, he's emotionally constipated and hurting right now. He doesn't want to lose you or I like he did Sarah. So, I don't know, just cut him some slack or something. I want a family for Christmas.”

You just looked at Ellie and nodded your head. When she went back to reading her book you went to your own room, letting Joel have the other room by himself. You two needed a break, well mostly you did. You were exhausted and needed to sleep, but didn’t want to lay next to the man who made you ache inside for him when he wouldn’t do anything to help relieve that discomfort. You and Joel used to play around with each other, where he’d use his fingers and mouth to help you get off. But recently he wouldn’t even do that. Something was different with him, and you didn’t know what caused it or why.

After you laid down you found that sleep quickly caught up to you. And for once it gave you pleasant dreams. Dreams of a family and a life that you wanted with a foul mouthed teenager named Ellie, and a wise old grump named Joel. Christmas was going to be great this year, or at least it was like that in your dreams. Little did you know, your dreams would soon become reality.

3 Days Later

“Joel, you can't see for shit beyond ten yards away. You're old and blind” Ellie said, sitting by the fire and talking with Joel.

“What the hell does that even mean, ya little shit? I can see beyond 10 yards, ya smartass, right y/n?”

“Hey, don't bring me into this argument,” you said, laughing at the banter between Joel and Ellie.

“See y/n agrees, you're old as shit Joel.”

“What? How’d you come up with that logic? She didn’t even say anythin,’” Joel huffed, going back and forth with Ellie. The banter between these two for the last few days was getting more frequent, which made you laugh harder each time. It wasn’t that these two were fighting. They were just bickering with each other, playful banter really, and something that reminded you of a family. You remember seeing your uncles do it with their teenage daughters, it reminded you of home.

“Look here smartass, don't go and spread lies ‘bout me that ain't true. If ya can’t verify it or back it up, then you’re just making stuff up.” Joel was now standing tall and pointing a finger at Ellie. Ellie, relaxed on the floor, was questioning Joel in whether or not he could even see to shoot a bow, as he was struggling to read the book in his hands. He kept squinting, huffing to himself and saying that people needed to stop printing books in such small print.

“Joel, you can’t see the large print book in front of you, when it says ‘large print’ on it. You’re fucking blind ya old man, ain’t that right y/n?” Ellie said with a serious look on her face.

“Ellie, god damnit watch your mouth. Ya hear me? I said no swearin’. And you over there,” Joel said while pointing a finger at you, “stop your damn laughing.” You were rolling around on the floor laughing so hard that your stomach hurt at the calm bickering that Ellie and Joel were both doing. You could barely contain your laughter, trying not to hurt or bruise Joel’s ego at the situation that he swore just as bad (and if not worse) than Ellie did, yet he was yelling at her for swearing.

“Damn it, I can’t read this sentence. Y/n what the hell does this even say here with this small print. I tell ya, they don’t make books like they used to.” Joel mumbled to himself, while pointing out the sentence he couldn’t read.

Ellie immediately tried to grab the book, offering to help Joel read it. But Joel quickly batted her hand away, putting the book into your hands. You glared at Ellie and Joel, trying to decide what you should do. Ellie was pleading with her eyes for you to crack a joke so she could continue with the easy conversation of teasing Joel. Joel was looking at you to solve the problem he was having. After a moment you brought the book up so you could read it, deciding to help Ellie have some more fun, and for you to have a little fun with the old man that was in front of you. You needed to relax too, not every interaction with Joel needed to be so intense.

“Ok Joel, I’ll help you. What do you want me to read?” you asked innocently, hiding the devilish smirk behind your calm exterior. When Joel pointed out the sentence, mumbling again how books aren’t created like they used to be, having the print too small, you couldn’t help yourself. You took a deep breath and said, “well first off Joel, this book was written back in 1945. But you’re right, they don’t make them like they used to. And you’d know that perfectly wouldn’t you, with your age.” You then went to start to read the sentence and you noticed that Joel froze as he sat down, looking over at Ellie who was sitting upright, not yet laughing or saying anything at the old reference. You had to hand it to the kid, she patiently waited until your next sentence came out.

“Ok Joel it says, ‘once upon a time, an old man named Joel couldn’t see, so he decided to blame the world for being old. He asked a beautiful, young, and attractive woman to help his poor, old, feeble self by reading something that a blind man could honestly see. So she decided to help, because he was really cute, and in the end, she agreed with the teenager that he was old as fuck. The End.’”

“Gimme that wiseass” he said as you finished. Ellie was now bent over laughing so hard that she was hyperventilating at how much you were in on teasing Joel too. “No respect from the younger generation I tell ya, no respect.” Joel then got up with a groan and sulked towards the bedroom with his book in his hands. When he got to the hallway he turned around and said “if y'all are through laughin’ at me, I’m gonna go and read in the bedroom and get some sleep.”

“Cause you’re old as shit” Ellie said.

Joel, not realizing what Ellie had said out loud, commented “right, see you in the morning.”

You and Ellie both roared with laughter at the fact that Joel didn’t realize what he agreed to. After a moment, he stopped and then hit his head with the palm of his hand, saying, “I didn’t mean that. I’m not agreeing to that.”

You replied, “see Ellie, apparently he’s old, blind and deaf too.”

“No respect I tell ya, none.” He said loudly upon hearing what you said. Huffing to himself, he marched into the bedroom yelling “and yet y’all need me to survive” as he slammed the door.

Both Ellie and you continued to laugh in the living room. After a moment you said “we probably shouldn’t make fun of him so much, he gets a little touchy ya know.”

“I know,” Ellie said, “but it’s so much fun teasing Papa Bear like this. Reminds me of what it’d be like if he was my dad. Well, I’m gonna go to bed.” She said, then getting up and leaving for her room.

“Night Ellie,” you said as Ellie walked towards her bedroom. You sat there in the living room for a little while longer, rubbing your eyes and giggling to yourself at the funny banter that happened. Life was feeling pretty good for a bit. But now with the quiet, you felt your heart constrict and those empty thoughts of being alone came rushing back in. After sitting there in silence you decided to go to bed yourself. Forcing your thoughts to rest in your head at the fact that you were going to be sleeping alone once again.

When morning came, you had decided to bake Christmas cookies in secret. You recruited Ellie to help you keep Joel distracted for the afternoon. Ellie had apologized to Joel in the morning, he had called her a smartass again, but it seemed like he forgave her. He wouldn’t talk to you really, telling you that you were mean to him and that he doesn’t talk to mean people. You knew he was just joking as he gave you a wink and a light hip chuck at the statement when he stood next to you in the kitchen. You’ve never seen this side of Joel, so carefree and fun that it shocked and surprised you, but also turned you on. You loved carefree Joel, someone that you hoped you would be able to see more of. Once Ellie was talking Joel's ear off outside, you started to bake your surprise Christmas cookies.

“Hey old man, why haven’t you told her what Te amo means yet?” Ellie asked, leaving out the part that she already told you what it meant. She wanted Joel to say it to you, knowing that you both loved each other very much and she wanted both of you to be happy.

“Not the right time” was all he said, huffing as he swung the axe to chop firewood. “And stop calling me old” he said with another grunt and swing of the axe.

“When’s the right time Joel?” She questioned, transfixed at what he was doing.

“Dunno” was his only reply as he swung the axe yet again.

“Joel I-”

“Ellie, this ain’t none of your business what her and I- what we- Look, her and I have-”

“God Joel, you’re forgetting that I’m practically an adult, I know you two have your little love sessions. That’s what I mean, if y’all can fuck, then why can’t you tell her that you love her?”

“Keep your voice down” Joel snapped, approaching Ellie for a moment to grab another piece of firewood. “And for the record, we ain’t fuckin’ yet, so-”

“Why not? Can’t get it up old man, is that the problem?” She joked, smiling at her sarcasm that she just gave him.

He just shook his head at her, not answering her. Getting it up was not the problem, that part was evident last night when he went to bed. You had given him a lot of sass last night and Joel hated to admit that it was a huge turn on for him. You were strong, could keep up with him and you weren’t afraid to put him in his place. When he walked into his bedroom last night, he was hard as a rock at the fact that you had a sassy mouth. It only took him a few minutes before he came hard around his fingers, wishing he was buried deep inside of you. This no sex thing was getting to him, he needed you in more ways than one, and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold off for very much longer.

“So what’s the reason Joel?” Ellie said, snapping Joel out of his train of thought.

“I just want to do this right” was all he said.

“How do you ‘do it right?’” Ellie asked genuinely, not understanding the complexity of relationships like this yet.

“What’s with all these questions, huh? Look, her and I, what we- I know what I’m doing, ok? Don’t worry about this, it ain’t your concern.” he said, swinging the axe and chopping another piece of firewood.

Ellie loved teasing Joel, especially about you. You had asked her to go out and keep Joel occupied as you started baking something inside the house. You found an old recipe for Christmas cookies, specifically sugar cookies. You went through the pantry and saw the makings for the cookies and you wanted to do something nice for Joel, considering the tension between you two wasn’t the best at the moment. You didn't know what was the matter, you figured it had everything to do with him remembering his last Christmas with his daughter. That's why you wanted to make this Christmas perfect for him and Ellie too.

“So do you?” Ellie asked Joel as she continued to watch him.

“What?” He said, breathing hard after he swung the axe yet again, chopping another piece of firewood.

“You heard me. Do. You. Love. Her?” she said, emphasizing each word so Joel could hear her. Ellie was genuinely interested in whether or not Joel actually did love you.

Joel, not wanting to talk about his feelings, started sifting through the log piles, pretending like he was trying to find something. Ellie could tell that he was nervous, not wanting to answer the question. She walked over to Joel and then said “Papa Bear, what's the matter?”

“I do. I do love her it's just that-”

“You're just scared to love that hard again, I get it.” Ellie said, smiling at him at his attempted admission. Every time she's ever tried to get Joel to talk about his feelings he's always blow up either at her or at you for asking. So this little attempted admission made Ellie feel good, knowing that he did in fact love you and that Joel felt comfortable enough to share.

“Yeah somethin’ like that. Now enough of making me talk, what are you gonna give y/n for Christmas?” Joel said, trying to change the subject.

Ellie had talked Joel's ear off all afternoon. When he got tired she took a turn and chopped firewood for a little bit. You watched through the window at the two of them, seeing how he just fell into the typical dad role. At one moment you saw her jump on his back to try to get him on the ground. He was able to twist around and finally held her down, tickling her. You could see that he loved that sassy foul mouthed teenager as if it was his own Sarah.

You were finally finished baking the sugar cookies, as they were now cooling on the rack, when all of a sudden you heard Ellie yell “hey y/n, can you come out here for a second?”

When you didn't respond right away, as you were grabbing your boots and coat, you heard Joel yell with a booming voice “woman, get your ass out here now.”

You quickly ran outside saying “What? What's the matter?” When all of a sudden you were hit by a flying snowball. You looked around to see where it had come from when you got hit right in the face again with another one. When that happened, you yelled as it had stung and surprised you.

“Oh shit Joel, you hit her in the face” you heard Ellie say.

“Shh not so loud, you'll give away our position” he countered.

When you looked around eventually you saw Joel and Ellie poke their head out of a little hiding spot. “You shits,” you had said, while forming a snowball yourself and then launching it at them. The next thing you knew, the three of you were having an honest to God snowball fight, like you were all 8 years old again. Quickly though it became girls against the boy, as Joel accidentally hit Ellie in the back of the head and she yelled “What the fuck Joel?”

His response was “well when ya got a big head, and are in the way, what do ya think will happen?” That caused you and Ellie to form a temporary alliance to get even with Joel.

As the three of you were forming strategic positions and developing an art to this snowball fight, you had an idea to really get Joel back. You went into the kitchen and filled a large pot with ice cold water. This will get him good, you thought. Then Ellie got him cornered and you approached him with the water.

“Woman, now put that down now. No use you gettin’ yourself hurt.” He said, trying to get away from you, but Ellie had him backed into a corner. When Joel saw that you weren't backing down he said “so help me God y/n, if ya do that I'll throw your naked ass in the snow later.”

“Hear that Ellie? I believe Joel just gave me a challenge. What do you think, kid?” You said, while approaching Joel. He was quickly glancing around to try to find an exit, when he couldn’t find one he thought intimidation might stop you.

“Look here, that’s not a challenge little girl. It's a fucking promise. Ya do that I will throw your ass naked in the snow.” When you didn’t back down he quickly shouted, “woman, put it down now or else-” and that's when you did it. You tossed the water at Joel and drenched the entire front of him. He immediately yelled saying, “Jesus Christ, that's cold. Ya tryin' to freeze my balls off here or somethin’? What's gotten into you?” He then got grumpy and started walking inside, not wanting to look at anyone anymore. He looked like a wet pup, and boy did it make you and Ellie laugh.

When Joel entered the cabin he stopped as he smelled a familiar old scent in the air. When you walked in behind him you put your hand on his back and said, “Merry Christmas Joel.” He turned around, and said, “did ya bake Christmas cookies?”

“Of course I did, honey. Sugar cookies only though. It was the only thing I could find the ingredients for.” You said, biting your lip nervously. Ingredients were hard to come by but you managed to find enough for a batch of cookies, and then some left over for bread. Sugar cookies were cooling on the wrack and bread was still baking in the oven. You knew they wouldn't have that fresh taste as you had no idea how old the ingredients were. You couldn't use chicken eggs or butter, so you substituted it for some water and other ingredients like stored coconut oil you found that was still ok.

Joel stood there sniffing the air, a wide grin plastered onto his face. He may be a man in his 50s, but right now in this moment he looked like a young boy, excited to have baked Christmas goods. “Um, do ya think that maybe I could-” Joel said, shuffling over to where the cookies were cooling, dropping large pools of water everywhere with how wet he was.

When you looked down you giggled to yourself at how his threat of throwing you into the snow naked hadn’t happened yet, something that you weren’t going to remind him of. “Hey, how ‘bout you go and get outta those wet clothes, then come over and have the first official taste test. Let me know how I did.” You said, nudging him gently towards the bedroom where some warm and dry clothes were.

Joel nodded and quickly shuffled off to change his clothes, leaving large drops of water all the way down the hall. “Is he gone?” Ellie asked, peeking her head around the door while still standing outside, not wanting to get attacked herself with water from Joel.

“Yeah, he went to go and change quick,” you said, bending over and checking the bread. Seeing that the bread was done, golden brown but flat, you took it out of the oven and shut the oven off. You stood there glancing at it and then pinched the bridge of your nose, muttering to yourself, “well, it didn't rise right. That yeast must be too old.”

“Still smells amazing darlin', I'm not picky” you heard Joel say, standing close behind you. When you turned around to look at him, you saw a flash of something different. It almost looked like happiness, something you don’t think you’d ever see Joel have. “Well Ellie, ya want your first taste of a Christmas cookie?” Joel asked, then motioned for Ellie to take one and bite into it first. “Well how does it taste?” He said, smiling at the way her eyes lit up, savoring the bite like it was the best thing that she’d ever tasted.

After a moment she said “um- wow. That's really fucking good.”

“Language Ellie, Jesus Christ” Joel mumbled. “Damn kid needs to watch her mouth.”

You silently laughed because it was like watching a father and daughter interact once again. Soon Joel bit into the cookie himself, and then he moaned at the taste. “For something so old it sure tastes damn good” he mouthed, cookie still half in his mouth.

“Yeah, I know you taste good,” you said softly so Ellie couldn't hear.

Joel started sputtering and coughing at the statement of you referencing how he tasted and his age. He grumbled to himself saying, “Dammit woman, you're gonna kill me one of these days. Jesus.”

Ellie was still going on about the taste of the cookie and how it compared to other things she's tried, that she didn’t catch the slight sexual innuendo interaction that you and Joel just had. According to her, the stale taste of the cookie ranked high on her list of her favorites. The three of you enjoyed a total of two cookies each, agreeing that you should keep the rest for later, just in case Santa would come. Ellie, even though being older, was still holding out hope that a big fat guy in a red Santa suit was actually real. What she didn’t realize was that she was going to see Santa sometime soon.

A Day Later

Joel decided to go out hunting, to see if he could bring back a true Christmas feast for you and Ellie. Ellie decided to go with him, saying that she wanted to prove that she would do a better job at shooting something, telling Joel that he couldn’t see. The same argument that started a few days ago about a book continued as they walked off into the woods together. They were gone a long time and when they returned, it was almost dark out. When they returned Ellie came running inside saying that she shot a deer. You congratulated her, saying that you were proud of her for being an expert marksman. When you went out to help Joel dress the deer, you found him laughing silently to himself.

“What's so funny?” You asked as you slowly approached him.

“That kid over there.” He said, kneeling down and craving into the deer while motioning with his head in the direction that Ellie went. You looked down at him and gestured for him to continue with your hands. “She- uh, she never hit the deer. That one couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, so I had to kill it. But I-I made it look like she did it.” He said laughing and shaking his head.

Joel then told you that when Ellie pulled back the bow and shot at the deer, that she missed. She had immediately shut her eyes, not seeing if she hit the deer but asked Joel if she did. Joel, having already had his bow drawn, saw that she hit a tree stump only 3 feet away. When he realized that she missed he released his arrow and killed the deer, you three did need to eat after all. However, after he killed the deer, he had decided to tell Ellie that she did it, knowing that it'd make her day. “So ya see, I couldn’t not help the little shit” Joel said laughing out loud. “She made this big fuss about it ahead of time, and I couldn't just break her heart in telling her that all she managed to truly kill was the tree.”

“Aw you're so sweet, you know that” you said, smiling at Joel looking out for Ellie.

“Yeah, I've been told that a few times I reckon” he said while standing up and looking at you with dark hungry eyes. “I’ve been also called old and an asshole too many times too,” he stated with a smirk, then bending down again to continue to slice into the deer.

You didn't know how to respond to his teasing, so you just stood there silent. After a moment you turned to head back into the house when you heard Joel say, “Te amo, baby.” You still didn't know what he was saying in Spanish, if Ellie was true with her statement, it meant that he loved you. So before you entered the house you gently replied back, “Te amo Joel and Merry Christmas.”

When Joel was finished dressing the deer he cooked the venison. As soon as you bit into the cooked venison you let out a low moan in pleasure. The explosion of flavors with fresh meat felt amazing to your taste buds. Joel hummed in contentment and blushed a rosey red in his cheeks at your outward display of gratitude. You told him that it tasted amazing and that he was the best cook ever, even Ellie agreed with you.

After the food was consumed, and the table was cleared, the three of you sat around the fire. You and Joel taught Ellie Christmas songs and you three all enjoyed feeling like a family for once. When time came to open up the presents, you could see that Ellie was just like a toddler. She was jumping for joy at seeing things under the tree for her that was wrapped up in old rags as wrapping paper with her name on them. As she opened her presents, she was excited at what she saw.

Joel gave Ellie a warmer winter jacket, one that he found at the other abandoned cabin that was located about five miles West from where the three of you were. He found the cabin about a month ago, abandoned just like this one was. He had been bringing over more supplies from there periodically. The jacket that he found was too small for you or him, but it fit Ellie perfectly. When she tried it on she was beaming at how comfortable it felt, and how warm it was.

You had given Ellie a handmade necklace, made out of different rhinestones that you had found in a storage craft box in the cellar. Crafts were something that you always loved to do when you were younger, and something you’d do in the QZ if you could find them. Joel and you also gave Ellie three joke books that you both found. As soon as she saw them she started crying, saying that it was the most perfect Christmas she’s ever had, and yet the biggest surprise wasn't even there yet.

Joel and Ellie both gave you a Wilderness Cookbook, something that he found in the other cabin also. He explained to you that the cookbook had recipes of how to cook rabbit, venison, and other things in the wilderness. You were grateful and thanked them both. Joel then whispered quietly in your ear, “I got something private, just for the two of us to indulge in later.” He said, gently squeezing your knee when you looked up at him with hopeful eyes, questioning him silently for what he had planned. You then saw Joel slowly open his mouth, sticking just the tip of his tongue out, as he moved the tip of his tongue back and forth fast. Using the same motions that he did when he’d eat you out. You blushed a dark crimson shade of red and quickly adjusted in your seat. Your panties suddenly felt too tight on you as you pushed your thighs together for some relief at the throb you felt in your core. “Later” he whispered again to you, while giving you another gentle squeeze to your knee and a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Joel then opened a few Western books from Ellie, ones that you had given her. You had just finished reading them recently and you knew that Joel wanted to read the books. So you gave them to Ellie and told her that you had found them at the other cabin and thought that maybe Joel would like to read them. Joel thanked Ellie and acted all surprised at seeing the books. Neither one of you told her that Joel had already asked to borrow them from you whenever you were finished reading them.

Joel then also opened a small homemade bracelet from you that you had made him. The bracelet had a butterfly pendant attached to it. When he saw it, Joel froze and just looked up at you. “Tess told me that Sarah used to love butterfly’s.” You told him as he gently ran his finger over the pendant. “Joel, if I could give you Sarah I would but-”

“No, it's alright. It's beautiful.” he said, sniffling slightly at the sight. Sarah, his babygirl, God he missed her. After a moment he quickly shook his head and then stood up, remembering that he still had two other gifts to give. Joel quickly said, “um, excuse me for a moment. I ah- I need to grab something” and then he disappeared by walking outside. Ellie was so focused on her joke books that she never saw Joel leave. All of a sudden you heard a knock at the door, followed by a “Ho, Ho, Ho” behind it. Ellie immediately tensed and you casually went over to the door, holding a gun for good measure, nevermind you knew who was behind the door. When you opened the door you saw Joel dressed head to toe in a Santa suit.

“Howdy there little lady- Jesus Christ woman, ya gonna shoot me or somethin’?” he said, shaking his head, looking at the gun you had pointed at him. “I heard y’all been having a hard time here so I thought I’d bring ya some Christmas cheer.”

Ellie immediately started laughing as Joel struggled with the Santa suit. “Joel, you look funny in a fat suit,” she said, laughing out loud at a pillow peeking through his Santa jacket.

“I haven't heard of no Joel before, I'm Santa.” He said, with a husky voice.

“So what happened to Joel? Did ya kill him when you landed your fat ass on top of him with your sleigh? Crushed him didn't you? It's ok, he probably deserved it. Killed by an old worn out fat guy with no fashion sense. Better than a clicker really, ya know.” Ellie said, laughing.

“Ok, look here wiseass, I ain't no old fat guy.” Joel said, grumbling to himself in his regular voice.

“Well you look ridiculous dressed like that.” Ellie said, doubling over and laughing hard again. You were rolling on the floor with a pillow over your mouth laughing at Joel and Ellie bantering again. You didn't know why, but seeing these two go at each other warmed your heart in a way that you never knew.

When Joel looked over at you he said “You stop your laughin’ over there” as he pulled the pillow out from his stomach and sat down with a huff on the couch. “Got no respect from the younger generation anymore. Ya hear me, no respect. Here I am tryin’ to make your Christmas special and all ya do is laugh at me and-”

“Joel it's ok” Ellie said, interrupting Joel’s little rant. “We love you anyways Joel, ain’t that right y/n?” Ellie continued, trying to look serious but failing miserably at it.

“Honey, you look amazing and-”

“Both of you just shut it, I know when I'm not loved.” He said, shaking his head and mumbling. “Shouldn't have to give ya both these now, but here ya go.” Joel handed you a small box. “Here ya go wiseass, so you don't feel left out either.” He said, shoving a box in Ellie's hands.

Ellie and you both quieted down and then looked at the little boxes in your hands with a piece of paper folded up over top of them. “Ellie why don't you go first,” you said, wanting her to enjoy the gift.

When Ellie opened the box she found a small seashell bracelet with black thick string with it and the piece of paper was a note that read the following:

My dearest Ellie,

I know I ain't your father, but over the past year you've grown so much on me kid. Ya got that sassy, smartass mouth on ya, and ya got a horrible attitude to boot. But you're strong kid, so strong. And you remind me of what my daughter Sarah was like, but so much more. I know your favorite thing is the Sea and one day I promise I’ll take ya there, and build those sandcastles with you, as tall as me. I love ya kid, like you were my own little baby girl. I wear a copy of your bracelet as a symbol of my love for ya honey.

Forever, my love for you child, Joel (or Dad if ya want)

After Ellie was done reading the note out loud, you found that you both were crying. Ellie immediately ran over to Joel, hugged him tight, crying into his shoulder saying, “you better fucking mean it. Swear to God you mean this Joel, and don't lie to me.”

“Baby girl, I swear to God everything in that note is true. I love ya like you’re my own honey, like you’re my true daughter cause ya are.” Joel then held Ellie, kissing the top of her head as she cried into his shoulder, this time her tears were tears of joy. Ellie got her Christmas wish after all, a family, something that she has never had ever in her life.

After a moment of them holding each other, they pulled apart and both looked at you. It was now your turn to read the note and to open the gift from Joel. You hands were shaking and you were panicking. You wanted more than anything for someone to love you, a man, with no strings attached. You were scared of what you were going to read in the note. But with a shaky breath, you opened your note and read it out loud.

Y/n,

The first time I laid eyes on you it was in the QZ and I thought that I had finally died and had gone to Heaven. My heart stopped in my chest darlin’, and I became nervous, still am when I look at ya. I remember thinkin’ that you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and baby, you still are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

The first time I kissed you, I was a goner. Forever to be the only woman that I’d ever want in life again. I used to be so angry, not because I didn’t want ya, but because I thought that I couldn't do any of this right. I couldn't date you properly, marry you, or even have babies with you the way that I’ve wanted to. And baby, I was so angry, I was angry because you deserve all of that from the world, and so much more. But then I realized somethin’, you and Ellie were sent from Heaven above, from my Sarah to help me now. For me to love and be loved once again.

I prayed honey, I prayed so hard for so many years, wanting to see my little girl again that was taken from me. And I don't know how or why, but somehow she sent me you two. And God, if I don't now have something worth fightin’ for. You and Ellie make this life bearable, make me want to live again. And truthfully, I'd be lost without ya both.

Now I know I ain't always good with my words, or tellin’ ya how I feel. But Angel, you mean everything t’me. Now open your gift honey, and let me tell you with the words myself.

You turned to Joel with tears in your eyes and trembling fingers while he gently coaxed you to open your gift. “Go on darlin', open it.” he said, ever so gently. When you opened your gift you gasped out loud. Inside the box was a ring, a birthstone ring for June, your birth month. You looked shocked at Joel when you saw it. He motioned for you to give him the ring.

With the ring in his hand he then reached out and held your hands, looking you in the eyes saying, “you mean everything t’me y/n and so much more. If you'll have me, I want you to wear this on a specific finger baby.”

Joel slowly took your left ring finger in his hand while holding the ring in his right hand. “I found this in a jewelry box in that other cabin and I thought Sarah must be telling me somethin’. I know it's not the proper one, but hell, nothin' is proper anymore. I promise if we ever get back to civilization again, I'll do this right. I swear it baby. Please be mine. Forever.”

You looked at the ring that Joel was holding, confusion washing over your face for a moment, not understanding what he was meaning. Joel looked over to Ellie and she smiled, understanding what was happening and gently said to Joel “dad, it’s time to tell mom what you told me in secret before.”

Joel nodded and took a breath to steady his nerves as he looked into your eyes. When he stared into your eyes he saw your hesitation. Not because you didn't want what he felt, but because you did and you were so scared that he didn't feel the same way. So with renewed confidence he said “I promise I'll do this right later if we can. But y/n-” and then he felt it, the pain searing tight in his chest at the thought of losing this, of losing you. It gripped him so hard, and tried to swallow him whole at the thought that he couldn't keep you safe. He was scared, and frightened at the thought of losing you or Ellie like he did Sarah. But this time as the pain consumed him, his thoughts drifted to Sarah. Sarah knew that her father loved her with everything, even as he held her when she died.

Joel remembered the night that Sarah was conceived. The way he and Sarah's mom desperately moved in unison together, trying to grab onto something for stability in a world that they felt was falling apart. He never connected with Sarah's mom again after that, it was only on that one night when she was created. It was like the world, the universe, told him that he needed to be a father at a younger age. He felt like that was the reason why his first marriage with Sarah’s mom failed. That they never were truly in love, except for where Sarah was concerned. But now things were different, especially with you. Joel was in love with you in a way that he's never been with a woman before. So with a smile and a chuckle he shook his head, finally finding the strength that he needed, to be able to say the next part out loud.

“Woman, you drive me nuts and make me feel things I, at my age, didn't think I deserved to feel anymore. I used to think you were sent here to torture me, make me pay for all of my sins. But then I saw what it was. That Sarah sent you to me because she had heard my darkest fears, my biggest dreams, and my silent pleas in the night. That I didn’t want to be lonely, that I wanted a family once again. And that I wanted a woman to love me so bad that it hurt, and not because I forced her, but because she wanted to. And baby, I got you and now you got me. Sarah sent me you and Ellie so I could be happy and not be so lonely anymore.”

With a shaky breath Joel continued, opening his heart even wider for you to see. “I've made mistakes darlin’, said and done the wrong thing most of the time. Hell, I’ve yelled at you and sometimes have treated you horrible, for that I’m sorry. But I'm scared. I'm scared to lose both you and Ellie. I love that kid over there like I was the one who created her, like she was my own daughter. And I view you as if you were her mother and my-” Joel shook his head, feeling the burn in the back of his throat hit as he struggled to say that he viewed you as his wife.

“Te Amo Joel. I love you” you said, softly towards Joel while holding his hand. Now that you said it, you hoped that he'd say it back. You just wanted him to say it to you in English, to tell you that he in fact did love you, and not just hint at it anymore. You wanted to hear those three words from him. But you never expected him to say what he was about to with you.

After a moment of looking at you he smiled, while looking down at your hands. He gently squeezed them to remind himself that you were still here. Then he looked up into your eyes and said, “Ah hell woman, marry me please? I know it's not conventional, but this ring I got you, it goes on your left ring finger baby and I-. Shit. I-I want you in this life and the next, ok. I promise I'll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you. Te amo baby, it means I love you. I love ya woman, so damn much. And I know I don't deserve it but I'm askin’ anyways. Marry me honey, please, make me the happiest man and I promise I’ll-”

It was in that moment that you crashed your lips hard to Joel’s mouth. You wanted to shut up his rambling but also show him that you were so happy. That was what the feeling was in your chest right now, happiness, something that you didn’t think you could ever feel or again. As you kissed Joel, a million thoughts were running through your head. You never thought he'd say any of this to you ever. But when you looked inside yourself you knew you loved this man more than anything. Yeah sure, he was cold, moody, and a complete ass sometimes. He hasn’t always done or said the right thing, but he has been there and protected you when other people should have but didn’t, or when others had walked away. To you, that meant more than anything, that he’d stay and was truly committed to you.

When you pulled away from the quick kiss you said out loud “yes. Yes Joel. Te amo baby, te amo. I'll marry you.” And with that admission Joel crashed his lips hard onto your mouth. There was nothing gentle about this kiss that he gave you, it was like the flood gates finally opened and Joel gave you his entire heart and soul right here and now. The kiss said everything that the two of you haven't been able to say to each other. That you both needed each other and that you both were there for each other.

When you gently parted your mouth for a breath, Joel licked into it in a way that a husband claimed his wife. It was heady and needy. Both of you kissed each other fervently, finally allowing the dam to break between you two. You both were lost in the moment, feeling the passion rise up between you that you had forgotten that Ellie was still in the room. All of a sudden you heard a heavy sigh followed by a smartass teenage girl.

“Look here assholes, I ain't wantin’ to watch you two fuck, so can you both tone it down for the kid in the room, please. Joel, you promised me we could have more Christmas cookies and then tell more stories. Come on.” Ellie said, exhaling loudly.

Joel pulled away and snapped saying “Ellie, language.” He fully pulled apart from you, placing the ring on your left ring finger, then gave you a chaste kiss on the mouth while whispering, “we'll continue this discussion later baby.” You gently nodded in return.

The three of you then sat around the fire telling funny stories to Ellie about Christmas. Joel told the classic tale of ‘A Christmas Story’ for the first time to Ellie, something that he still remembered by heart as it was Sarah’s favorite Christmas story. Both Ellie and you eventually fell asleep on the floor, heads touching at the top and holding hands as a family as you both looked up at Joel, listening to him tell the story.

Even after knowing you two fell asleep, Joel continued reciting the story until it was done. When he was finished he grabbed blankets from the bedroom and tucked both you and Ellie in. Smiling to himself he laid down on the couch, content at having a family once again. Joel was relieved that his family, even though unconventional, loved him fully in return. As sleep slowly crept up, he found himself turning to one side and staring at the low light of the Christmas tree. This time, it was as if he could see her again yet again, his Sarah, just sitting down and smiling at him. His heart felt full today, something that hadn’t happened since the last Christmas he had with his daughter, about 20 years ago. As Joel slowly drifted off to sleep he swore he heard Sarah say to him ‘Merry Christmas Dad, here's my Christmas wish for you. For you to have a family once again. And always remember, that I love you.’

-End Chapter-

A/N: This one was a heck of a roller coaster to write on so many emotional levels. These three will be back in the future, got some fun things planned for them. Enjoy, and be sure to check out my other series and one shots in my Master list.

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

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zepskies · 10 months

Text

If You Want It To Be - Part 1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down after a hunt, Sam and Dean tow you back to the bunker for Christmas. This time of year gives you and Dean a little courage to be honest about what you both want. And what you want, is for him to see you. (18+)

AN: Here’s one of my entries for @deanwinchesterswitch's TGWRC: Christmas in July event! ❄️ Hope you enjoy Part 1 of 3. (I will release one chapter per week! Possibly sooner. 😉)

Themes: Mistletoe (a classic), eggnog, Christmas dinner

Word Count: 3,900 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Bickering, fluff, jealousy, angst, friends to lovers, (eventual) smut.

Part 1: December 23

“I never thought I’d miss my own bed as much as I do right now,” you mutter.

Though your body’s weary, you manage to heft your duffel bag onto your shoulder. Soon enough, you’ll be out of this craptastic motel.

More specifically, away from the cot that nearly broke your back while you weren’t sleeping on it. Who could sleep on a bed of rusty-ass springs?

But while Sam is already loading weapons and his things into the Impala, Dean seems to be taking his sweet time, fiddling with something by the solitary nightstand in between the two queen beds. Your extra cot is laid out in the corner (may it rot in hell).

Dean glances up at you at your remark.

“That’s the first thing we’ve agreed on all week,” he quips. And he smirks when you send him a mock warning look.

“Don’t mess with me right now. Haven’t gotten my beauty sleep in three days.” You have to adjust your duffel on your shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

Dean’s smirk fades the longer he concentrates on trying to put on his watch.

“Trying to…damn it, think this strap is done.”

Sighing, you set down your bag on the bed and sit down next to him on the edge of it. You peer over his shoulder and see that the leather band is indeed broken.

“Aw, that sucks. I can replace it for you if you want, since I’m the one who wrangled you guys out here,” you say with a frown.

You called them for backup when you discovered the coven of witches. If you’ve learned anything about hunting over the years, it just isn’t safe to go after a group of those demon-worshipping assholes without help. And it gave you a reason to get back in touch with Sam and Dean…

If you’re honest, it gave you an excuse to see Dean.

You haven’t seen him in months, but he and Sam came when you called. The three of you managed to take out all four of those bitches, after having to track them down across the plains of Indiana.

At least it only came at the cost of Dean’s watch.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Dean says. He tries to wave you off, but you shake your head stubbornly.

“Really, I mean it,” you say. “I’ll buy you a new one. Consider it an early Christmas gift.”

Christmas Eve is tomorrow, and while you love this time of year (and your own bed), part of you isn’t looking forward to going home to an empty apartment.

Dean looks up at you with a rueful smile. “Really, it’s okay. This one was my dad’s.”

At that, your guilt intensifies. “Oh…guess there’s no replacing that. I’m sorry.”

“This’s just what I get for hauling my ass out here, pulling yours out of the fire,” he remarks. Some humor creeps back into his smile. “As usual.”

“Hey, if anything, I saved your ass,” you tease back, even though you still feel guilty. “That he-witch was about to grate you into Swiss cheese.”

And then you shot him between the eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean raises his brows at you. “And when Barbie girl locked you in her cellar, that was what, you taking a nap?”

Your lips purse in response. You enjoyed seeing that platinum blonde bitch go down hard—with an iron chain wrapped around her neck. Dean held her down while Sam finished her off with two shots to the chest.

Trust Dean to try and take credit for the whole thing. You get up to your feet with a roll of your eyes, collecting your bag. You feel his presence burning behind you as you both head out of the motel.

“I would’ve figured it out eventually,” you say.

“Right. Where have I heard that before?” Dean says dryly. He follows you to your car and watches you throw your duffel into the backseat. Maybe he admires the curve of your ass in those jeans for a bit too long while you’re bent over.

But his eyes snap back up to yours when you straighten, turning back to him with a wry look. For years, this is how things have always been between you. Playful, sniping, not entirely flirting, but not quite not either.

Sam then comes around the Impala to give you a friendly hug goodbye.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he says with a smile. You return it, giving his plaid-covered chest a light punch.

“You two are the ones with the packed dance cards. I’m lucky I got you guys to even answer my call,” you quip. “I’m down to goddamn smoke signals here.”

Dean shakes his head and pulls you into his arms next. “If we’re screening anyone’s calls, it ain’t you, sweetheart.”

You huff at that, but your smile is more genuine when you hug him back. For a brief moment, you let yourself revel in his warmth, his spicy aftershave, the solid feel of him wrapped around your whole body like a perfect man glove.

It’s so familiar to you, but bittersweet. Because all too soon, you have to let go.

“It was good to see you,” you say, a little softer than you meant to. Dean’s lips quirk at a warmer smile. There’s something in his eyes you can’t name when he releases you.

But with a sigh, you turn and get into your car—an old Ford Focus.

“You’re really still rockin’ that rusted out piece of shit, huh?” Dean asks, watching you with crossed arms as you climb in. The door creaks loudly when you shut yourself in. You flash him a wan smile and lower the window (with the embarrassing hand crank).

“Since 2003. Good old Hubert hasn’t failed me yet,” you reply. And then you turn the ignition.

It splutters, but doesn’t start the car.

What the fuck?

Frowning, you try it again. And again. And again.

Nothing.

The brothers Winchester still stand between your car and the Impala in the parking lot. Sam shares a glance with Dean, who brushes a hand over his mouth as he watches.

Finally, you look up at them with a grimace when your car just dies. Kaput. There’s the sound of pressure releasing, along with your high hopes of making it home tonight.

“Goddamn it, Hubert.”

That’s how you find yourself a guest of Le Bunker a few hours later, after Dean tows your car all the way to Lawrence, Kansas.

“You’re welcome to stay for the holidays,” Sam tells you once the three of you make it inside. He leads the way down the winding staircase. Dean follows behind you.

“That’s right! Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” you reply with a smile.

Your family loves Christmas, but it’s just you this year. Your father is on an extended cruise with his new wife, technically your stepmother. When your dad asked you how you felt about them going on this trip, they seemed so excited about it that you didn’t feel like you could say no.

So between watching Halmark movies by yourself all day and hanging out here with your friends, there’s really no decision to make. You agree to stay.

Sam nods back at you and continues into the bunker. He goes on to greet Castiel and Jack in the living room.

When you reach the ground floor, Dean lays a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to turn around.

“I’ll take a look at your car, see if we can’t get it running in a couple days,” he says.

“By Christmas? That’s a tall order,” you reply with a grin. “Even for Dean Winchester, Un-Certified Mechanic.”

Dean smirks back at you, crossing his arms. “That a challenge, sweetheart?”

You pull out your best Charlie’s Angels narrator voice. “I guess it is. Your mission, should you choose to accept it.”

His gaze is warm with playful scrutiny, from your dirty sneakers to your jeans and black V-neck top, to the messy ponytail keeping your hair together. But you can’t help but blush at the lazy, damn near flirtatious way he does it.

“All right. Challenge accepted,” he says, crossing his arms. “What do I get if I win?”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “My undying respect.”

He just hums and leans against the iron guardrail of the stairs, hands sliding into his pockets.

“Not enough for you?” you ask.

He shrugs, unimpressed, like he can take it or leave it. You step up on one of the stairs and fold your arms on the guardrail, so you can be level with Dean’s eyes.

“Okay. If you manage to miraculously get my car running by Christmas, you get one consequence-free request,” you offer. He raises a brow at that.

“Anything I want?” he asks.

“Within reason,” you amend, though you’re starting to blush. It curves his lips.

“No questions asked?” he hedges.

You think about it for a moment…

“None,” you shake your head. “We got a deal?”

Dean smirks back at you and crosses his arms.

“Deal.”

Maybe the little bet is silly. You know very well Dean can fix your car in two days. Just as you know you need to keep a tighter lid on your feelings…

Now that you’re here in the Bunker, unable to escape him, there’s too much potential for spillage—of things you’ve long kept hidden.

It just never seemed like he was seriously interested. Even if he ever is, you also know very well that Dean’s not the dating type. And you…you just don’t think you can handle being another “hit and run” for him.

Or a “sometimes” girl.

Or even worse, a “when it’s convenient” girl.

If you think too long about it, that would just about rip your heart out.

So you ignore the thought of Dean again for a while. After you shower and change into some pajama pants and a loose top, you pad barefoot into the kitchen. Castiel is there to greet you, staring into a glass of orange juice. You raise a brow at him.

“You okay, Cas?” you ask.

“Pulp or no pulp, that is the question,” he muses.

“Um…pulp?” you reply.

He nods and takes a sip. “Pulp is good. Increased levels of Vitamin C. But I’m thinking no pulp is best. It eliminates the possible choking hazard.”

You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you nod. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You pause in your quest for a snack to look around the bare furnishings of the bunker.

“What the hell’s going on here?” you ask. “It’s literally Christmas Eve. Where’re all the decorations?”

Jack comes in the kitchen, pausing from watching reruns of Judge Judy to join you and Castiel. He doesn’t know you very well, but he’s just as curious about you as you’re curious (and maybe a little wary) about him.

You know Dean hasn’t totally warmed up to the Nephilim, but he seems kind, and you find his honest, natural inquisitiveness endearing.

“I know about Christmas,” he says, smiling like he’s proud of that fact. “It celebrates the day of Jesus’s birth. Even though December 25 itself is not historically accurate, society has made up for that fact by intertwining pagan traditions and overbearing commercialism.”

“A very good way of putting it,” you say after a moment, chuckling. “Well done.”

Jack grins at the praise. Castiel shares an amused smile with you, but his is more fond.

“I don’t believe Sam and Dean are big on celebrating Christmas,” Castiel says, finally answering your question.

You cluck your tongue and level both angelic beings with a determined look.

“Well, that’s just not gonna cut it, guys. If I’m spending Christmas here, we’re doing it right,” you say.

And with a growing smile, “Buckle up. We’re going to Walmart.”

As it turns out, “doing it right” takes pretty much all night. But you’re impressed with how everything came out.

There’s now a large tree in the living room (a real one, bought in the Walmart lot of Christmas trees), decorated with three packs of lights, ornaments, and a nice star on the top, with a lacy red ribbon that overlays down the front.

You worked your hardest on the tree, but you also directed Castiel and Jack with a new tablecloth for the war room table. Red candles in “fancy plastic” gold holders, tinsel and ornaments and several other Christmasy things that now brighten up the entire place with festive wonder.

And all on the cheap. Though your wallet is going to smart a bit, considering you might’ve gone a bit overboard. Not just on decorations, but on some groceries, a few gifts, and maybe a couple of things for yourself…

You just don’t anticipate later falling asleep on the long table in the war room, with a roll of ribbon curled around your hand and tinsel in your hair.

You wake up to a hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. You groan, squinting against the twinkling lights, no matter how pretty they are in all their multi-colored glory.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

“Huh…?”

“You’re drooling on the table. I’m guessing that’s a new tablecloth.”

“Whathefu…” You manage to open your eyes and raise your head, finding Dean smirking down at you. You blink up at him sleepily.

“Aw shit,” you utter.

“That’s one way to greet somebody,” he intones.

You just grin with exasperation, but you accept his help in sitting up with a groan. Every muscle in your body aches in protest from having slept on a slab of hard wood.

His hand doesn’t leave your back until your bare feet are firm on the ground, though you lean on his arm for a minute while you rub sleep out of your eyes.

“Damn, I wanted to see your faces when everything was put up,” you say ruefully. Sam comes in with a smile and two mugs of coffee, one of which he hands to you.

“It’s incredible! How’d you do all this?” he asks. “And thank you. You know you didn’t have to.”

You waved him off. “I wanted to. Plus, I had a little help.”

You raise your mug to Castiel as he walks by with an iPad and a multigrain bar. It’s such a far cry from the angel you had met years ago—socially ignorant of human ways—that you have to smile. He returns it.

“Jack’s still putting the finishing touches on the Christmas village,” Cas says.

“Village?” Dean frowns.

“We had him set it up in his room,” you tell him. “He was fascinated by the train part. And the fake snow. And all the little people…”

“Great, another nerd,” Dean remarks.

“Be nice,” you chide. He shoots you a certain smirk.

“What do you mean? I’m Mr. fucking Nice Guy.”

“More like Scrooge,” you counter.

“All right, Sweeney Todd. Might wanna fix the nest you’ve got going on there,” he retorts, gesturing at the wild state of your hair. You’re still picking out tinsel.

You narrow your gaze at him. “Big talk from the guy wearing fuzzy slippers.”

Dean frowns, glancing down and shuffling his slippered feet. In his defense, the floor is cold.

“All right, I’ll just get started on breakfast then,” Sam says, cutting through the familiar bickering with a resigned grin. After a parting amused look at you, Dean follows him into the kitchen.

“Wait, wait. You don’t know how the hell to make eggs. Let me get in there.”

Rolling your eyes, you share a conspiratorial look with Castiel, who smiles before taking his iPad into the living room. You take the opportunity to shower, brush your damn hair, and fix yourself into an actual human again.

Suddenly inspired to put some effort in, you pick out a dress for once. It’s not the new one you might’ve splurged on for Christmas dinner tomorrow, but it’s a “just in case” dress you always take in your bag…just in case.

It’s a black, comfortable fabric with simple long sleeves and a skirt that drapes above the knee. It’s just casual enough to wear around the bunker. But it can also be dressed up with some heels if you need to. This is not one of those times, thank God.

You even take pains to do your makeup, light on the eyes but popping with a bit of red lipstick that you typically save for going out. Tis the fucking season.

And maybe you want to wipe away that asinine smirk from Dean’s face.

When you return to the kitchen, all four men are sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast, talking, and drinking coffee. That all pauses when they see you.

“Morning, again,” you greet them. And you hum to yourself as you grab another cup of coffee. But you stop in your tracks when you realize they’re all looking at you.

The ones who have tact (Sam and Dean) manage to return to their phone and iPad, respectively. But the angels are a little slow to look away.

“You look different today,” Jack says.

Your lips twitch at a smile. “A good different?”

“Yeah,” he says, though the way he looks at you makes you wonder if he’s sure. You share a glance with Dean, whose face strains with an awkward I don’t know what to tell you smile.

You don’t know it, but Dean’s gaze follows you as you putter about the kitchen. The sight of your smooth and shapely legs are enticing, especially the way the skirt of your dress keeps swishing along your thighs.

Sam clears his throat, catching his brother’s gaze with amusement. Dean’s lips purse at being caught in the act of checking you out, but he swiftly ignores his brother to glance back down at his iPad.

Shaking his head, Sam gets up after he finishes his breakfast and brings his plate to the kitchen sink.

“You going out or something?” he asks you. “There’s some eggs for you in the pan, by the way.”

You nod at that, grabbing yourself a plate from the cupboard. You’re starting to reacquaint yourself with where everything is in the bunker.

“No, but it’s funny how you guys seem to think I live in my hunter gear all the time.” You arch a brow at Sam. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am a woman. Capable of wielding lipstick.”

Sam grins, raising up his hands in surrender. “By all means, wield away. You look nice.”

“Thank you,” you say dramatically. He snorts in response and moves to get around you. But that’s when Jack pipes up.

“Oh, look,” he says, pointing to a spot above you and Sam. “You guys are under the mistletoe.”

Your eyes widen. You glance up at said sprig, which hangs from a long string stapled into the ceiling, then at Sam as a blush starts to warm your face. He looks similarly caught off guard.

“Who put that there?” you ask, cutting your gaze over to Jack in suspicion. His boyish grin is pleased, while Castiel fights a smile of amused embarrassment for you.

Dean is oddly quiet though. His expression hides behind the hand he’s leaning his chin on, while his elbow rests on the table. You meet his eyes for just a moment, before you crane your head up to look back at Sam.

You shrug with a grin and beckon to him with your hands. “All right, come ‘ere.”

Sam’s face is a bit crunched with an awkward smile, but he obliges you by wrapping you up in a friendly embrace.

You take his face with both hands and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. You feel his prickly stubble against your lips, but you don’t mind.

“Merry Christmas,” you say with a giggle. He chuckles in response and rubs your back warmly.

“Merry Christmas,” he echoes, pressing a hand to your cheek. You’re one of those friends he counts as his family, and he’s truly grateful that you’re here with them for the holidays.

You have similar warm feelings for the gentle giant as you pull out of his embrace. When you glance over at Dean, you don’t know what to expect to find. By the mild grin he’s sporting, he just seems amused by the whole thing.

You inwardly shake your head at yourself, wondering if you should’ve just kissed Sam. Maybe then you’d figure out where you stand with Dean.

And once you know for sure he doesn’t see you in any kind of way, then you can try to actually move on from Dean Winchester.

You’re forced to sit across from him after you heat up your eggs and make some toast. He’s just scrolling through his iPad without a care in the world.

But in reality, you couldn’t know that Dean is fighting not to look at you. Because the truth is, he didn’t like what he just saw…the obvious warmth between you and his brother.

“We need stockings,” Jack notes, before he turns to you. “Wasn’t that on your list?”

“Ooh, you’re right. I think I forgot,” you reply. “To be fair, trolling around Walmart on three days of no sleep is ill-advised at the best of times, let alone at 12:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve.”

Sam chuckles at that. While Dean gives a slight smile, he’s still quieter than usual.

“Want to go grab some at the store?” Jack asks. You rub your chin in thought.

“Well, I wanted to get started on baking some cookies for later.”

“I can take him,” Sam offers. Jack nods along with the idea.

“Okay, great,” you reply.

“Need anything else while we’re out?” Sam asks.

“Hmm, nope! Nothing that I can think of,” you reply. Sam nods, and soon after, he and Jack leave for the store.

You turn to Dean, intending to ask if he’d like to help you in the kitchen. Realistically, you know he’s not going to do much but stand there while you do most of the work, but it’s a chance to hang out, just you and him.

You’ve almost worked up your nerve to ask when Dean gets up from the table with his iPad. He says nothing to you before he starts toward the garage, making you frown.

“Hey, Dean,” you call to him.

He hesitates, turning back to you with an expectant brow. You want to ask him to stay but…ultimately, you lose your nerve.

“Gonna work on my car?” you ask instead. He flashes you a smile that doesn’t completely reach his eyes.

“Un-certified mechanic, at your service,” he dryly quips with a lazy salute.

You quirk a smile as he continues on his way, but somehow, you feel unsettled. You turn to Castiel, and you remember the rest of your plan for today.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Yes?” His head raises from his book.

You give him a conspiring smile.

“I have a special mission for you.”

AN: The stage is set, folks! Let me know what you thought of Part 1. 😘

Next Time:

Jack’s sprig of mistletoe once again lies above your head. Your heart trips up a bit faster as Dean looks down at you again, with a smirk.

“My turn,” he remarks. His eyes are flirtatious, but they hold a hint of something deeper. Something you can’t name.

“Are you gonna go for my cheek like I’m your cousin?” he says.

His raised brow is a challenge, and it makes you bite the inside of your lip. He can be so annoying, but you suppose he wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t make things more difficult for you.

Keep Reading: PART 2

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justmeinadaze · 11 months

Text

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I am still so in love with this moodboard. Thank you @sidthedollface2 ! You are amazing <3

Warnings: Soft Dom Steddie X Singer Reader, SMUT, angst, and fluff. Some dark themes regarding addiction (reader does get high and is tempted by all her vices; Steddie confront her), um...I think those are the biggest warnings. Brief mentions of her ex and an encounter with a bad friend.

Word Count: 5851

“Have you never been on a tour bus before?”, you giggle as both boys try to find places to put their things.

“Uh, no, sweetheart. My band wasn’t cool enough to get a bus.”, Eddie grins as he gives up and throws his overnight bag on to one of the bunk beds.

“Honestly, I prefer it to planes. I’m afraid of heights but thankfully we’re just touring the US this time around so…just a bus.”

Your phone begins to ring and after glancing at it you toss it to the side.

“Is he still bothering you?”, Steve asks taking a seat across from you.

“Kind of. He, um, he knows I’m going to fold soon and answer.”

“Why is that something he knows?” Eddie takes a seat beside you, his jeaned knee grazing yours.

Since that afternoon in Steve’s car, neither of them had tried to make another move but to be fair you had been extremely busy preparing for the tour. Occasionally, you would steal a glance or they would find little ways to touch you like placing a hand on your lower back to guide you towards the car or, like right now as they sat next to you, a part of their skin would find yours.

You reveled in that minimal contact; tasting what you so desperately wanted but couldn’t have just yet.

“Because I do it every time…”

“Yeah…but not this time. I mean, you already did something different by not bailing him out of jail.”

“Yeah, his mom did that.” They both smile as you laugh. “He, um, he’ll probably show up at some point…just so you know.”

“And we’ll be ready.”, Steve grinned, giving you comforting wink.

########

“This place is fucking nice, Harrington.” Eddie looks around with amazement as he and Steve walk around the venue you would be performing at in a couple of days.

“It really is. For Vegas I guess this is normal?”

“Speaking of…”, he stops walking, facing his friend. “I hate that her idiot manager made this place one of her stops let alone the first one. We may need to keep a closer eye on her here when it comes to her vices.”

“I agree. She’s been doing pretty good though.”

“Steven, it’s been a week.”, he chuckles. “You don’t undo that much trauma and damage in a week. She IS doing good but if she wants to remain sober, she’s got a rough road ahead.”

***

“Y/N! What’s going on, babe?” The director of the show startles you out of your fog as he shouts your name. You had dissociated into a memory while singing a song you had wrote many years ago about your parents. Usually you, just sang the song, plastered in a haze that numbed your pain as the words flowed through but this time…

“I…I, um, I don’t think we should have this song on the list.”

The boys, who had been sitting in chairs off to the side, heard the change in your tone as they leaned forward to listen to the exchange.

“What? This is one of your number one singles. It resonates with people. You have to sing it.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Mark. Can’t we just replace it with something else?” You roll your eyes as he looks at you with apprehension. “I need a break.”

They see it in your face as you stomp off the stage, splitting up to go in different directions.

“Where are you going, Y/N?”, Steve asks as he runs to catch up with you.

“I just need a break, ok? Can I have one goddamn moment to myself?!”

“Of course you can but then why are you heading towards the back exit?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

As soon as you open the backdoor, your blocked by Eddie’s towering, broad frame. “Going somewhere, your highness?”

“Move.”, you growl.

“Make me.”

Huffing, you turn around and push Steve out of your way as you head for your dressing room.

“What’s running through your mind, honey?”

You angrily pull a cigarette from your purse, allowing it to dangle from your lips as you search for a lighter.

“I’m not your honey, Steven. You think just because you had your fingers inside of me that I owe you something?!”

“Some respect at least.”

“Hm. Sure. ‘Respect’. All you fucking men are the same.” They watch as your hands shake as you try to work the lighter. “Fuck!”

Eddie reaches into his pocket as he moves towards you, lighting his own lighter, allowing you to bend and ignite your cigarette.

“Tell them again. Reiterate that you refuse to sing the song.”

Your eyes glance up towards them, filled with a lot less hate than before. “I need a drink.”

The metalhead shifts behind you, delicately petting your head as he brushes your hair away from your face.

“No you don’t, princess. Everything’s ok. You’re in control right now. Can you say it for me?”

“I’m…I’m in control.”, you whisper.

“Good girl.” His eyes find yours in the mirror as he smiles. “Say it again.”

“I’m in control.”

Eddie’s grin grows when you say it with a bit more confidence before reaching over you to steal your cigarette. “Thaaaaank you. Now, get back out there and show those fuckers whose boss.”

#########

“Oh come on, boys! Let me have some fun.”

“No.”, Steve’s tone was firm as he watched you slide on your high-heeled shoes. “You can go out and have fun but we need to at least be close by to protect you.”

You roll your eyes as you rise to your feet, smiling to yourself when you notice their eyes drink you in. Tonight, you had some friends that wanted to go out on the strip with you so you asked (politely) if the guys could stay behind. They adamantly refuse.

Before you retort your hotel door flew open as all of your friends ran in to give you a hug.

Throughout the evening, Eddie and Steve were pretty good at being invisible. There were a few times you forgot their presence until you reached for a glass of wine or cup of something bitter and an arm reached over to snap it from your grasp.

“Were they told to keep you from having a good time?”, a girl whined loudly in their direction to make sure they heard.

“I’m sure Jack and Sarah gave them a whole to-do.”

Another girl whispered something in your ear and you nodded your head as she got up from her seat with a friend to glide sexily towards them.

“Hello there. I’m Allie and this Caroline. Y/N has told us a lot about you two.”

“Hm. Not enough it seems because this right here won’t work.”, Eddie politely grins in their direction as he tries to move Allie to the side so he can keep his eyes on you.

“What won’t work?”, she asked coyly.

“Ladies, you’re gorgeous but you need to let us do our job, okay?”

“Oh please. What are you going to protect her from here at a club? The big bad bottle of vodka.”

“No but maybe we can protect her from selfish people who use her for her money and a fun night out.”, Steve responded sarcastically and they recoiled at his comment. “Jesus Christ.”, he sighs when he notices you’re not at the booth anymore.

“Here we go, Harrington.”

****

It took them 2hours to find you and they were livid. You knew they put some type of “Find my phone” tracker on your device so you left it in a taxi that had them running all over Vegas.

They gave up, deciding to wait for you at the hotel when a loud bass behind the door grabbed their attention. As they opened it, they found your friends strewn across the floor in a drunk haze with some other people they didn’t recognize.

You were sitting on your bathroom floor with heavy eyes staring into the void of the wall in front of you. “He-hey, honey!”, you slurred as you looked up at them. “Aha…looks like you found me.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched as he turned to head for the living room. Steve stepped over you, turning on the faucet to allow water to fill the tub.

“Oh, a bath sounds nice. Are you going to join me?” The boy remains silent as you giggle.

“HEY!” The people in the living room jump at the metalhead’s deep, booming voice. “If you’re name isn’t Y/N Y/L/N I want you to leave right now!” They groan as people slowly begin gathering their things causing Eddie to clap his hands loud enough that even you cringed. “Let’s go, people! You have until the count of ten before I call a cop. Eight!”

Within seconds everyone is gone, leaving them to deal with you. Steve lifts your sluggish body, placing you to sit on the edge of the tub as he kneels in front of you.

“Did you think what you did was funny? Disappearing like that.”

“Yeah, a little.” He nods, roughly grabbing your cheeks as Eddie shines a small light in your face. “What the fuck?! Stop that!”

“She’s definitely on something. What did you take, Y/N?”

“Fuck you. You’re my security. I’m allowed to have some fun without you looming over me!” Steve curtly nods again before lifting you once more and placing your fully clothed body into the bath. “Fuck me! That’s freezing!”

You try to jump out but the man’s grip on you tightens as he holds you still. “After you snuck out last time, we warned you not to disrespect us or what we do, right?”

You have no idea why but his calm demeanor despite the circumstances is pissing you off more as you aggressively tug at his hands. “Let me go!”

“We’re going to play a game, Y/N. If you cooperate with us, I’ll let you go. What did you take?”

When you don’t answer, his hand pushes you back, quickly dunking your head under the cold water before pulling you back up.

“What. Did. You. Take?” Steve’s voice is still calm but much firmer than before. You shakily point towards the bedroom and Eddie turns to look through your stuff, finding the drugs you took hidden in your suitcase. By your bed was a plate with a rolled-up dollar causing him to sigh.

“Did you bring this with you or did you buy it here?”, he asked.

“Allie brought it.” Your eyes widen as you watch him dump the contents down the toilet. “HEY! You can’t do that!”

“I just did. Call it penance for running around Las Vegas looking for you for two hours. Here’s your phone by the way.” He displays it in front of you before tossing it across the room onto your bed.

You continue to fight against Steve hold, splashing water everywhere to no success. Something inside you snaps as you stop moving and look around the bathroom. The drugs had begun to wear off but you still felt heavy under their haze. You were submerged in water in this revealing dress pouting like a five-year-old because they threw out what you believed to be your lifeline.

What hurts the most is when you risk a look at them both and are met with not just anger but disappointment. They’re job was to protect you and keep you safe yet you sent them on a wild goose chase so you could get high with people who didn’t give a fuck about you.

Steve lifts his hands and you hang your head as you begin to cry.

“I’m sorry.”

The man rises from his knees, leaning over to drain the tub before sitting on the edge. “Is it alright if I remove this dress? If not, we can step out so you can change.”

“I can’t move.”, you sigh as you respond with a tiny voice.

“Yes, you can. Come on, now.” His palms grip your arms as he fully stands with you. “See?”

Eddie comes up to the side and places some of your clothes on the sink. You gently hang on to his shoulders as he searches for a way to get you out of your gown, finally settling on lifting it over your head. His eyes remain on your face as he hands you a towel.

“Here. Go ahead and dry off, get dressed. Come out when you’re ready.”

“Can you dry me?”

“Like I said…come out when you’re ready.”

“Eddie! Please!”

“Why? Why should I do something nice like that for you after the way you treated us? You think after all that we’d really take care of you in that way?” You flinch as he tosses the towel in your direction. “Dry off. Get dressed. Come out when you’re ready.”

#####

That morning when you woke up, you found both boys asleep on the couch and your heart broke. You had this huge fancy suite that allowed the three of you to have your own room yet last night they slept on opposite ends of the couch to make sure you didn’t try and sneak out again.

One of their phones began to vibrate and you tiptoed to the counter it was plugged into to see who it was before bringing it to Steve’s sleeping frame.

“Steve…Steve…”, you whispered as you gently pushed on his shoulder. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“Your dad is calling you.”

“My wha?” His eyes crack open as you display the screen for him. He groans as he answers, rolling off the couch, and heading for the bedroom.

Eddie, completely unphased, continued to snore as he slept. You sat on the floor beside him as your eyes scanned his shirtless torso. You had already known about the tattoos on his arms but the ones on his chest were new to you. Reaching over him, your fingers softly traced the inked skin before sliding down his tummy. He seemed to have a couple of scars here and there which you imagined where from previous security guard jobs.

You desperately wanted to kiss them. You wanted to kiss every part of him but after what you did last night you knew you didn’t deserve it. Sighing, you rose to your feet, heading for the shower to get ready for the day.

***

“I didn’t know you could play guitar.”

Your eyes flicked towards Eddie from your spot on the stage floor as you wait for crew to set up things behind you.

“It’s been a while. With, um, with my vices I couldn’t really keep my hands still to do what they needed.”

Hearing footsteps, you swivel your head to see Steve walk towards you two and sit on the floor beside you. He digs through the bag in his hand and produces a sandwich from the shop down the street, handing it to you.

“Lunch. Eat.”, he commands.

“Thank you.” You feel both sets of eyes quickly scan your face as the metalhead takes a seat as well, taking the food his friend offered.

“You ok? A little hung over?”

“No… I just feel a little guilty about last night.”

“Hm. You should.” Steve takes a sip of his drink before offering some to you which you eagerly sip.

“I’m really sorry.”

“We know. Actions speak louder than words, princess.”

“I understand.”

After rehearsal, they walked you back to your hotel, becoming instantly annoyed when they find your friend waiting outside.

“Attached at the hip still I see.” You cringe at Allie’s sarcasm. “Usually Y/N gives me a copy of her key to wait IN the room but I was told she can’t do that anymore.”

“Yup especially with apparent drug dealers coming and going.”, Eddie replies casually as he opens the door and holds it for everyone to enter.

“Pfft, what drug dealers?”

“Oh. So you didn’t bring drugs into this hotel room last night?”

“That doesn’t make me a fucking drug dealer asshole.”

“It does when you give them to her.”

They both glare at each other before she finally turns to you. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

“Is there anyway we can pick this battle and talk about it later? I’m fucking exhausted.”

Allie sarcastically laughs as she reaches into her pocket and throws a baggie at your chest. “Fuck this shit. That’s all you care about, right? That’s all I’m good for? Tell them about how you beg for me to bring you my stash. How some nights you call me crying saying you NEED it.”

“Don’t play this game with me, Allison.”, you growl in her direction.

“You think I’m afraid of you?! Simon is right. You’re fucking pathetic.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to tell your husband you said that. Oh wait. Where is he? That’s right. He left you after you gambled away all your savings and I had to bail you out by giving you money so you could keep your house!”

She angrily stepped towards you but Steve blocked her path. “Out. Now.”

“You’ll regret this, Y/N!”

The man pushes her towards the door, shutting her out as she continues to yell. You reach down and big up the bag she threw at you, sighing as you hand it to Eddie.

“I’m going to go change. Will you throw this out for me? I don’t think I have the strength to yet.” You flash him a smile as you head to your room.

“What is it?”, Steve asks as his friend heads towards the bathroom.

“The last of her stash I imagine.”

#########

Later that night, both men came out of their rooms when they heard you shuffling around.

“Are you lost, your highness?”, Eddie asks slightly amused.

“No. Not physically anyway.”

“Whatcha doin’ then?”

“What’s it look like? I’m making a bed on the couch so I can get some fucking sleep.”

“Y/N, you can sleep in your bed.”, Steve chuckles as he leans into the doorframe.

“I could but…it’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

You exhale as you roll your eyes and face them. “I fucked up and snuck away from you two. I should be sleeping on the couch while you sleep in the beds. It’s fine. I mean I’ve slept in worse places and you deserve to sleep on a comfy mattress like those especially if you’re supposed to be protecting me. I want you 100%.”

Their eyes continue to look you over making you groan. “What?! You can still hear and see me from there. If I tried to leave you can still run over here and catch me!”

Eddie glanced at Steve, nodding before placing his body in front of yours. “What? Fine, God damn! If you insist on sleeping out here, don’t say I didn’t—”

The metalhead’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as he pulled your lips to his. His tongue danced with yours eliciting a soft moan before pulling back to rake your eyes over his face.

“Do you want to sleep on the couch?”

“No…”

“Do you want us to sleep on the couch?”

“No.”

“Where should we sleep then?”

“Wi-with me…”

“Oh, come on, princess. You’ve been yelling at us pretty much since we met you. I know you can say it more confidently than that.”

Your palms grip his face as you bring his lips back to yours. Eddie doesn’t miss a beat as you jump up and he grips your thighs in his strong hands as you circle your legs around his waist.

“Sleep with me…” You graze the tip of your nose across his. “…after you fuck me.”

The metalhead carried you to your bedroom, falling with you onto your bed. His lips hungrily ran down your neck as he bit and sucked on your skin.

“Wait…you can’t leave…marks on me before…before a show.”, you pant. He nods as he lifts his head to meet your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, that isn’t something you need to be sorry for, ok?”

“Ok. Where is—“, you turn your head looking for Steve, finding him sitting in a chair beside your bed. “Why are you so far away?”

His head tilted as he listened to your voice dip back to that little girl tone you used with them before. Eddie focused on you again, lifting off your shirt as he kissed your skin.

“I’m not far, honey.” To emphasis his point, he crossed his legs on to the mattress in front of him. “I just got to taste more of you last time than Eddie did so I’m letting him explore a bit.”

“Pfft, letting me.”, the boy chuckles as he takes off his shirt and yanks down your shorts with your panties. “Do you hear him?”

His lips trace your chest to your stomach as you reach down and run your fingers through his hair. He places soft tender kisses on the inside of your thigh, driving you wild.

“Eddie, please.”, you beg.

“Please what?”

You whine in frustration and he quickly turns to look at Steve, laughing to himself as the boy’s jaw clenches. He rises from the chair and saunters around the bed, laying down beside you.

“Look at me.” You do as he asks, taken aback by the slight hint of annoyance gleaming within his eyes. “When we ask you something, we expect an answer. No whining or pouting. Understand?”

Eddie’s fingers slide through your folds, opening them wide so you’re perfectly on display.

Steve’s own fingers grab your cheeks forcing you to meet his eyeline. “I said…do you understand?”

The boy between your legs smirks as he watches your pussy flutter at his friend’s words.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

Your eyes rollback when he releases you and Eddie runs his tongue through your sex. “Fuck me. You were right, Harrington. She does taste good.”

While he continues to lick you, you feel him shuffle, briefly looking down to see him kick off his pants and boxers. Much gentler this time, Steve turns your head again to face him.

“When we ask you to do something, we expect you to do it.”

“Mmm—I understand.”

“Now, honey, Eddie and I like to play a bit rough sometimes but we would never make you uncomfortable. Is there a word you feel like you’d remember under any situation? For example, what’s the first word that comes to mind right now?”

It was so hard for you to think as the metalhead wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking your nub with his tongue.

“I…I can’t…I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do, baby. Come on. First word, any word.”

“P-Paris! Fuck, Eddie. That feels so good.”

“Huh. Well, I definitely have some questions but I can work with that. Ed?”

“Stop if I hear Paris. Got it.”, he responded curtly before shoving his face back into your now dripping core. He moaned against your bundle of nerves, gradually stroking his cock as he devoured you.

Steve pressed his mouth to yours, swallowing your whimpers as you neared that edge. You reached down to rub your palm against the growing bulge in his pants.

“You…you can be rough with me. Just don’t…don’t… I’m gonna…”

“Hey, no. Don’t cum until you finish that sentence.”, he warns.

“Just don’t—mmm—don’t hit me. Fuck! Yes…” Eddie pins your thighs down with his hands as you came hard against his tongue. Your arms wrapped around the other man as you kissed him passionately, your body trembling as you came down from your high. “You can spank me…just don’t like smack me or anything.”, you pant against his lips.

“Ok. Ok, pretty girl.”

Eddie climbed up your frame, placing open mouth kisses on your skin along the way.

“I’m, um, I’m on the pill. I struggle with most things but I always remember to take that. I don’t trust Simon to…ya know.” Your eyes shift between theirs as your voice gets smaller. “I mean, I still understand if you want to use a condom. I don’t have any but—”

The metalhead cuts you off with his lips. “Have you been with anyone else since our wonderful introduction to your now ex?”

“No.”, you grin up at him. “I got tested before the tour to so I’m clean. Have you been with anyone…recently…?”

“We’re attached to you 24/7. Have you seen us with anyone?”, Steve smiles making your grin grow as he stands up to start removing his clothes.

“I don’t know what you do with your free time!”

“Aw, that’s cute. She thinks we have free time.”

You playfully smack his shoulder and he in turn captures your lips. “Do you want me to…?” Your eyes gesture towards his cock and he tilts his head to follow your gaze, tickling your face with his hair.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” Eddie reaches down to grip your thigh, opening you wider as he drags his length through your pussy lips. “Do you feel that? Do you feel how hard you made me just from tasting you?”, he whispers, his forehead pressed against your own. You moan as he grinds his hips, teasing himself as much as he’s teasing you.

“Please…”

“You want my dick inside you, baby?” You aggressively nod your head as your nails tread down his back. “F-fuck, ask me for it.”

“Please, Eddie, I need to feel you inside of me. I need you to make me cum again.”

Both your mouths fell open as he gradually thrust his cock into your entrance.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.” His head fell to the side as your fingers reached up to tangle in his hair trying to hold him as closer to you as you could.

“Does he feel good, Y/N?” Your eyes flick up to meet Steve’s who’s watching your face intently as you nod. You could hear Eddie panting in your ear as he pumped into you inch by inch causing your cunt to clench tighter to him. “How do you usually like it, honey? Tell him.”

“I…I…don’t…”, you stuttered over your words as he bottomed out.

“Tell me, Y/N.”, Eddie whispered. “Tell me what you—mmm—what you need, pretty girl.”

“I don’t know.” You felt yourself start to tear up and immediately burrowed into his shoulder.

“Hey. Hey, come on. Let me see that gorgeous face.”, Steve grinned when you looked up at him. “Nothing to be ashamed of in here, baby girl. What do you like?”

“It’s been a long time since anyone has asked me that.” Eddie pushed up on his elbows so he could look at you as well. “You were right. Simon has never made me cum. It’s been a while. Well except in your car.” They both chuckled. “Why don’t you show me what you like?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for that just yet.” The metalhead leans up on to his knees, pushing both your legs back till your own knees were close to your shoulders. He began pumping into you again, your eyes rolling and closing as you feel him touch deep inside you.

You felt Steve’s breath warm your cheek as one of his palms comes up to caress your face. “Eddie and I like to be in charge in a relationship; more so in the bedroom.”

His fingers slide down to trace your lips before softly lingering on your throat. “We like…taking care of you…” Your jaw falls slack as he tightens his grip around your neck as Eddie slams his hips harder into your own. After a few moments, he releases you and the other boy returns to his steady pace. “And in return, you submit to us.”

“Fuck, fuck, please.”, you beg; to which one even you aren’t sure. Steve continues his path down your body till his fingers find your clit. Your hand reaches for his wrist but Eddie is faster, gripping your own as he leans forward over you, pinning it to the pillow.

“Goddamn.”, the metalhead groans as he feels your pussy tighten even further around him. He falls on top of you, rolling his hips so hard the bed moves underneath you. Your body shakes as you cum, moaning his name repeatedly as your free hand clings to his neck.

Eddie couldn’t hold back any longer especially with your cunt spasming around him as you came undone. With a few more hard, deep thrusts he came inside of you causing you mewled at the feeling.

His hair blocked most of his face but you could just make out the hint of a smirk painted across his features.

“Told you…we knew what…a woman cumming sounded like.”, Eddie panted and you snicked underneath him.

“You’re so dumb.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

He gently kissed your forehead before you turned to look at Steve. Your sweaty palm reached for his cheek and he turned into it, tenderly placing his lips against your skin.

“Do you think you can take me, honey? It’s ok if you can’t.”

You almost too eagerly nod your head. “I can.”

Eddie carefully climbed off you and Steve couldn’t help but notice you were still a bit shaky. “Come here, pretty girl.” He moved you with little to no effort, tugging you till your back was to his chest. Lifting your leg, he bent it at the knee in front of you, placing it near the other boy’s hip.

His lips kissed yours until you felt him hold your waist and guide his cock inside of you. You whined at the feeling as he allowed you time to adjust before pushing further in.

“Steve…oh my…fuck. You’re so big.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt his arms encase you and hold you closer to him. His breath warmed the nape of your neck till you felt him bottom out.

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so warm and wet. You’re making a mess on my cock.”

You’d heard dirty talk before. Hell almost every man in the entertainment business especially musicians thought they would lull any woman into erotic heaven just by saying dirty things in their ear. Simon and every one of your one-night stands had tried it. Every time it made your eyes roll and not in a good way.

Hearing Steve whisper his filthy words as he began really thrusting into you had you seeing stars while you whimpered out answers to his questions.

“Can you feel me stretching you open? Fuck, honey. I’ve never had a pussy this tight before.”

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt another set of hands touching your body.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. You look so gorgeous like this.”, Eddie cooed as he leaned in to kiss you. Your head lulled as both their lips trailed along your neck. “Can you cum again for us?”

You moaned as you shook your head. “Too much…”

“I know, princess. I know Harrington can be a bit overwhelming…”

You shook your head again. “Feels too…good. Can’t…”

“Yes, you can.”, he whispers, his finger drifting to your bundle of nerves. “Just give us one more.”

Steve slowed his pace and you whimpered as you turned to grip his neck with your arm. “Fast. Faster.”

“Is that what you need, sweet girl?” He does as you ask, pounding his hips into yours.

You lurch forward bringing Eddie closer to you while your other arm threaded through Steve’s hair behind you as you felt yourself tumble over the edge.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”, the boy behind you groaned as he chased his high.

“Good girl, princess. Such a good girl.”, the metalhead praised as he petted your head, moving your hair out of your face. “You did so well. Are you ready for Steve to fill you up?”

You weakly nodded as your turned to face him, his nose pressing to yours as he panted against your lips. “Please cum. I want you to cum like he did. Please…I need it, baby.”

Your eyes remained on his face as his own closed, eyebrows scrunched together as he came, pumping his seed inside of you.

As carefully as he could, he pulled his cock out of you but you still whimpered at the feeling.

“I know, honey. I’m sorry. Do you think you can handle a shower?”

Drunk on the high of them, you could barely move let alone speak but you somehow managed to shake your head at his question.

“She can shower tomorrow morning before rehearsal. Let me get something to clean her with now though.”

“No…”, you lazily reach for Eddie’s arm before it slides from your grasp. “Too far.”

“He’s coming right back, baby girl. You’re okay.” Steve places soft kisses along your face. “We’re not leaving you. I promise.”

You wince as the metalhead gently opens your legs and cleans between them. “Maybe we should bring her to one of our beds till they change the sheets.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Since she doesn’t want to shower, grab another damp rag so we can clean some of this sweat off her.”

“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.

“For what, sweetheart?”

Opening your eyes halfway as Eddie sits you up, you glance towards where you had been laying as he starts running a new rag over your skin.

“I…made…mess.”

“Yeah…nothing you need to be sorry for. Fucking Steve made a mess to. Look at him!” You giggle when he smiles down at you from his place behind his friend as he cleans below his waist. As he reaches your shoulders and neck, your forehead falls to lean against his. “You don’t have to apologize for everything, princess. Not everything is your fault.”

“Hey, beautiful. Can you do me a favor and drink some of this?”

“What is it?”, you cringe as you take it from him.

“Water.”

After the first sip, you couldn’t stop, chugging it back till the glass was empty. “May I have more please?”

Both boys turn to each other, flashing a knowing smile. “Yes, honey. You can have more.”

Eddie suddenly lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bedroom, placing you down on his cool mattress. “Well, at least your using sentences. Do you want a shirt or anything?”

“No, thank you.”

Steve came in handing you the glass again which you eagerly chug after thanking him. They watch as you crawl under the sheets, waiting for you to get comfortable before getting in beside you. As soon as Eddie pulls the covers up, you wiggle to him, placing your head on his chest as you pull him closer.

Steve wraps his arms around your torso and your lower half immediately curves into him making both men smile.

“Can I ask you something?”, he whispers and you respond with a tiny hm.

“Why Paris?”

“My family went on vacation there when…when I was a kid. It was…the happiest I remember us…ever being. I go there sometimes when…I want to be left…left alone.”, you answered as you flitted in and out of sleep. “I…I feel safe…there.”

##########

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strangerquinns · 6 months

Text

Deadly Reunion| Chapter 24

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k+

smut warning: p in v, fingering, creampie - if wanting to skip look for (**) at the beginning and end

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist |chapter one

The warm, musky, smoky scent that always seemed to hang onto Eddie was keeping the anxiousness building within your gut down at the moment. Over the last few days, your nerves became more and more shot. Hopper was pressing harder on training, planning, and strategizing. Each night you dropped down into Eddie’s bed like a dead weight. You were ignoring the fact that your body wasn’t fully healed from before.

If you made it out alive, you could rest then.

You sat at the table hearing the low vibration of conversations around you. Your side was pressed tightly against Eddie’s with his arm wrapped around you. The food in front of you was more picked over than eaten at all. Looking around the table you watched as others spoke to one another.

Robin teased Steve as usual. Jonathan and Argyle were in some deep conversation at the end of the table, too far to really hear what they were saying. Eddie, Gareth, Dustin, and Mike were in some deep debate over something to do with D&D. You weren’t really paying attention enough.

“We having a bonfire tonight?” Gareth asked, drawing your attention back to them. “You know…before everything?”

“Should everyone get a good night's sleep?” Mike asked, his eyes darting around the cafeteria.

“Don’t think anyone is going to be doing much sleeping tonight, Wheeler,” Eddie spoke, pushing away his tray with a heavy sigh. The weight of everything came down heavy over the table.

You were no longer the only one lost in the worry and fear of what tomorrow was going to bring.

“We can still do it,” You spoke softly from beside Eddie, forcing a small smile onto your face. “Better to be together, for those that want to?”

“I like that idea,” Robin spoke up, everyone else at the table now turned toward the rest of you. “Cause I know for a fact I’m not going to be sleeping much tonight. Would be alone in my dorm room anyway.”

Robin sent a playful glare your way, which caused heat to move up your body and settle on your cheeks.

Everyone stood from the table and moved together to exit out of the Lab and out back where Gareth and Eddie’s trailers were settled. Eddie reached down and grabbed your hand tightly, keeping you closer to his side as the two of you walked.

“Are you ok?” Eddie whispered softly, so the two of you would be in your own conversation, everyone lost in their own.

You looked up at him and could see the worry clear over his expression. Tension clear between his brows, “Are any of us ok?”

Eddie let out a soft, humorless chuckle, “No. I guess that was a stupid question.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Just…noticed you barely ate and have been quieter than usual.”

“Not really hungry,” You shrugged slightly, “Can’t really think much about anything. It’s like the nervousness is filling my stomach enough.”

“Promise me tomorrow you’ll force something? I don’t want you going out there on an empty stomach,”

“I-I…” You pressed your lips tightly together, “Don’t make me promise anything, Eddie. Please.”

“This one thing,” Eddie spoke firmly, a tone of begging to his voice. “I won’t ask of anything else.”

You sighed heavily and slightly nodded your head giving Eddie the answer he wanted. By the time the two of you joined the others at the pit outside Eddie and Gareth's trailers, a fire had already started, and the others were sitting around. Gareth had pulled out the whiskey he’d pulled out the night you were reunited with them. Another old glass jar was placed into your grasp, a shot already inside, as you took a seat on one of the logs around the fire.

“A toast,” Gareth spoke, raising his drink up, “To the last night we might all possibly be together,” He spoke somberly “I hope to see all your faces come back through tomorrow – but just in case…it’s been real.”

“Not morbid at all, dude,” Argyle spoke before knocking back his drink, everyone else around him doing the same.

“He’s not wrong,” You spoke up, feeling the burn of the whiskey move down your throat before warming within your belly. “We could all come back tomorrow, but…the reality is we might most likely all won’t.”

“We can’t go into it with that mindset,” Steve spoke up, his eyes connected with yours. A stern, authoritative, firmness behind them that made you shrink back slightly. “We have to go into that we’re all coming back, and we’re killing every single one of those assholes.”

While everyone around you cheered and seemed to toast to that – you sat in silence. Looking down at the amber liquid as your head, and heart seemed to battle and keep you sitting in a sort of limbo. On one hand, you wanted all of them dead, these were the same group that killed your entire camp, your mother. Your best friend. But on the other hand, now that you knew Wendy, was amongst them – you didn’t know what to think. You didn’t want her dead. If anything, you wanted her to come back with you all. But after the attack, she took part in, that was never going to happen.

“What were the scouts able to find out about these cowards?” Jonathan asked, your mind drawing back to the group around you.

“They have a leader, some dude named Henry Creel. Can’t really find out much about him for obvious reasons. But he’s tall and blonde. He walks around like he’s the King or some shit so it’s not hard to point him out.” Steve spoke.

“He’s fuckin’ creepy looking.” Robin shuttered “Has these deep-set blue eyes that are just cold. Scary seeing him through the binoculars.”

“Learned a few of others that seem to be high in power, or at least, Creel trusts.” Steve continued, “Some dude named Neil, another named Billy – Billy looks like his son honestly.”

“How large is this group?” Dustin asked.

“Not much bigger than ours, but with how they move, it’s our disadvantage.”

“We also aren’t 100% sure if they were coming or not,” Eddie spoke up, his arm wrapped around you as he pulled you tighter into his chest. “We could be going in and they are fully prepared.”

“Why don’t we stop talking about this and forget for the rest of the night,” Robin spoke “I’m sick of the impending doom cloud that’s been hanging over us these last few weeks…ever since Nancy died.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Eddie whispered into your ear.

You nodded your head gently and allowed Eddie to help you up from your seat. A few of the others had dissipated and went back to their beds. Gareth, Argyle, Dustin, and a couple others were the only ones sitting at the fire. Eddie guided you up into his trailer and pulled the door closed behind him. The two of you didn’t speak, but moved in sync, as you slowly undressed.

Eddie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His warm lips pressed against your chilled skin with small kisses. It caused your body to erupt with goosebumps. You closed your eyes and seemed to relax back into him more, feeling his bare chest against your back, his calloused fingers exploring your body. You let out a soft and gentle moan as his fingers teased your nipple, pinching it gently.

Eddie slowly turned you in his arms and pressed his lips to yours with his hand gently caressing your face. When he pulled back, neither of you spoke, just continued to undress the other. Eddie brought his hands up to gently touch your face, staring down at you with so much love, it made your chest tighten slightly. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, before settling on your lips.

“Come ‘ere baby,” Eddie whispered against your lips before leading you to the back of the trailer, moving you down to lay across the rumbled sheets of his bed.

*smut 18+*

You reached out and grabbed for him, pulling him over your body, needing to feel him against you. It was like the moment he was even out of reach; your body craved him. Eddie slowly moved up your body as he placed kisses along your scared skin. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, squirming slightly beneath him, as the ache between your legs grew. As Eddie wrapped his lips around your peaked nipple, sucking and rolling his tongue, his hand moved down between you. His fingers teased against your slit before thrusting two fingers. You moved your hips down against his hand, needing more, the stretch of his fingers not enough.

“…please, please…Eddie, please,” You begged, pawing at his chest lightly.

Eddie liked watching your face whenever he was pleasing you, hearing the soft whimper and moans coming from your swollen lips. The faces you made as he watched you.

“What baby?” Eddie spoke softly, moving up to press a kiss along your jaw. With your head tilted back against the pillows, it gave him better access to your neck. “Tell me what you need.”

Your hand moved and fisted through his dark curls, pulling on them, to bring him back over you. Your lips brushed against his slightly – barely touching. His thumb added pressure to your clit with his fingers moving a little faster. Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment before a raspy whimper of his name came from you. The erotic sound of his fingers between your legs could be heard along with your moans. Your slick moving down between your cheeks and spreading between your thighs.

“You…you, please…oh-fu..fuck,” Your fingers tightened with the sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white.

Eddie could feel that you were close with how you were tightening and fluttering around his fingers. But just before he could send you over the edge, Eddie pulled his fingers out. You gasped at the feeling of him moving away from you, your eyes widening slightly. But before you could mutter a word of protest, you watched as Eddie brought his fingers to his mouth, before sucking on them. You watched as his tongue moved along his slender digits, sucking your slick off of them, and moaning as he did so.

“…Eddie,” You spoke with a breathy whimper, your hand still fisted within his curls.

Eddie smirked slightly before bending down to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue moving against yours so you could taste yourself. He shifted between your legs, Eddie reaching down between you both, rubbing his cock against your slit. Your hips moved up to meet with him before Eddie thrust deep inside of you – slowly. Your hand moved around to move down his back, your nails dragging along his pale skin, as you felt the stretch of him inside of you.

He pressed his body against yours holding himself up slightly on his elbows, rolling his hips against yours. The two of you moved together tenderly, with caressing touches, and soft kisses. Neither of you wanted this moment to be over quickly. You needed to feel one another because the truth of tomorrow still hung there.

“God, you feel so good sweetheart,” Eddie whimpered, pushing back slightly as he started to move faster, looking down to watch as his cock disappeared into you. Between you an erotic mess that both of you seemed to create. “…can’t get enough of you f-fuck,”

You whimpered as you felt the knot within you tighten more and more, knowing that you were going to cum.

“Eddie,” You spoke, nails digging deeper into his biceps.

“I know, pretty girl, I know,” Eddie spoke caressing your face softly, you leaned into his touch, “Can feel you…feel this perfect fuckin’ pussy squeezin’ around me” Eddie snapped his hips harder against you, hitting that sweet spot inside of you, making you moan and gasp for him louder. “Give it to me, I wanna feel you – want to feel this sweet pussy cum,”

Hearing his words and moans was enough to send you over. You fisted the hair at the back of his head, pulling him back to you, as you fell over the edge. The heels of your feet digging into his lower back to draw him deeper into you. Eddie pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours as the two of you panted softly.

“Fuck, I love you,” Eddie spoke, his dark eyes looking down at you intensely, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as he held your face.

“I love you,” You smiled before pecking his lips gently.

Neither of you said more, not needing to. Instead, Eddie moved gently from between your legs before getting out of bed. He came back with a wet cloth and cleaned between your legs before tossing it off to the side. He crawled back into bed and pulled the blanket over the two of you, encasing your bodies in warmth. You went right back to his side and nuzzled your face into his neck as he held you. The two of you lay there in silence, the wind hitting against the trailer, as Eddie moved his hand up and down along your back.

As much as you hoped, the sweet relief of sleep wouldn’t be coming to you easily tonight.

The day was heavy, you felt it the moment you woke up, it seemed to wrap around your shoulders and weigh you down.

You and Eddie moved through the motions of the morning.

The two of you opt to eat in the trailer and join the others at the cafeteria. Holding to your promise, you ate a little bit of food. Only really having the stomach for a couple pieces of toast. Eddie had taken some bread from the pantry that was baked earlier in the week.

Before you knew it the sun started to go down which meant it was time to get ready and meet at the front. Eddie dressed in his usual attire – his dark jeans, leather jacket, bandana wrapped around the lower half of his face with his dark curls pulled back from his face. After putting his hoots on, he slipped one of his knives inside and grabbed his pack. Your attire wasn’t far off from his – you wore all black as well with one of your old jackets. You grabbed your sheath and strapped it to your thigh and placed your knives inside.

The two of you left the trailer and moved toward the front of the labs where everyone seemed to be waiting. Hopper stood at the gate with his arms crossed at his chest and a darkened look on his face. Weapons were passed out along with ammunition if needed. A holster sat on your hip with a pistol inside as a shotgun was strapped across your back.

Amongst the crowd, you spotted Robin who was standing off to the side with Steve. It wasn’t long till her eyes shot up and connected with yours – both of you giving the other a small smile. You wished that you were grouped with all your friends, so you could see for yourself that they were all safe. But you were lucky to even be placed with Eddie – something you were sure he asked Hopper for.

“Now!” Hopper spoke loudly, his voice booming over the crowd and causing everyone to stop and look in his way. “We are about to embark on something that his group had never had to do before. But I have all the faith that we will achieve what we all want by the end of tonight. I want everyone to be vigilant…be safe…and watch each other’s backs. I know I am asking a lot of you tonight. But in the end, it was for the better of this camp. They have taken too much from us. We do this for Nancy, Sarah, and any other life that was lost due to these monsters.”

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Eddie look down at you for a moment, reaching over to squeeze your hand tightly.

“Everyone is to sweep through their planned parts of the old mall, never end a section alone! Once your area has been cleared, move on to the next till we all meet in center court. We don’t fully know what we’re expecting – but let us come out as the victors.”

Everyone around you seemed to let out a roar or cheer of some sort, causing you to jump slightly. The people atop the gate slowly pulled it open before the large group of fighters started to pour out – some marching off to the left with Enzo and the others to the right with Hopper. You kept close to Eddie as the two of you moved with the group that was going off to the right. Each step you took caused your heart to jump more and more up into your throat.

“How about when all of this done, we got back to Ricks? Get away for a few days?” Eddie asked, his voice low as he spoke to you.

“Ricks?” You questioned, “Yeah, yeah that sounds good.”

Eddie smiled slightly, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes like usual. “It’s a date then baby,”

You nodded your head and tried to force a smile onto your face, reaching for his hand and holding onto it tightly again. Finding peace in feeling the warmth of his hand in yours.

Ok! Ok! I am so sorry for this long pause between updates. I had a lot going on these last two weeks. Work, family, other shit - but I am back. The next chapter is going to be all battle. I was gonna place it here with this chapter but a nearly 6k+ word chapter seemed like a lot! If you enjoyed it, please like + reblog, it really helps! Come and chat or comment I love seeing people's views on the chapter updates! Hopefully, the smut wasn't too bad - but I wanted Reader and Eddie to have a moment before death, violence and zombies came back into the picture!

@mopeymopeymouse / @aris-house / @brxkenartt /@akiratoro420

@stylesxmunson/ @aactuaaltraash / @fandomgirl17 / @ches-86/ @chaoticcancer / @munsonology / @bellamy-barnes / @theonlyh3artbreaker / @idkidknemore / @familyvideowithsteve / @eddiesdingus / @thefemininemystiquee / @the-world-is-a-mess-and-so-am-i / @xdarkcreaturex / @lunr-flwr / @cherry-omi/ @im-emma22@munson-enthusiast / @munsonmecrazy / @jupitar-jul / @katiemrty/ @maddie-luvs-eddie /@eddiemusworld/ @ih3artdanielle / @eddiesguitarskills / @hargrovesswifee /@chaoticcancer / @rh1nestonecowg1rl / @atombombbibunny /@munson-enthusiast / @hellf-1-re / @fangirling-4-ever / @corrcdedcoffin /@sidthedollface2 / @emma77645 / @eddiiiieeee /@beep-beep-sherlock / @moldy-khunt / @bokutoswifey /@trixyvixx / @lma1986 / @plk-18 / @sav12321

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson sluff #eddie munson smut #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinnx you

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vanemando15 · 1 year

Text

A New Life

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actor Reader

Word Count: 6k

Rating Mature - 18+ ONLY

Genre: angst

A/n: It’s been a minute. I took a little break from writing. Life has been busy but as soon as I saw Pedro at the Oscars I immediately got inspired to write this fic. Thank you to the amazing @musings-of-a-rose for never allowing me to quit and helping me with this.

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

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The last 24 hours have been a whirlwind. The apartment was pitch black. You had cried yourself to sleep as soon as you got in. After the emotional roaster that you had been on, you finally decide to get out of bed. Walking in a daze, on autopilot you made your way to the kitchen, where you realized that this was no longer how the home that it once was before. After making some coffee, you started packing all your stuff into luggage, waiting for your agent Chloe to come to help you. This time, there was no music pumping or him grabbing you to dance while you were cleaning or cooking. It was just you, alone, in a quiet apartment that you and Pedro once shared.

After so many years spent together, now that it's over, you were left feeling confused and, honestly, lost.

Ring… Ring… Ring…

Your phone was blowing up with text messages from Pedro.

Text Message - 11:29 a.m. Pedro - A, please answer me

Text Message - 11:30 a.m. Pedro - A, you left last night without letting me know.

Text Message - 11:31 a.m. Pedro - A, I know you're upset but please answer me to let me know you're ok.

Text Message - 11:32 a.m. Pedro - Please answer me! I’m worried about you.

Text Message - 11:33 a.m. Pedro - I love you.

You angrily grab your phone and throw it against the wall, letting out your emotions with a loud scream.

“Anna! Are you ok? What happened?”

Chloe, your agent, opens the door of the apartment and runs towards you, seeing you collapsed on the floor, chest heaving, and in tears.

“You called me last night. Said that you were heading back from Calgary. Did something happen with you and Pedro? What happened? Why is Pedro calling me to see where you are?”

Chloe brought you up from the floor and sat you down on the sofa as she went and grabbed some water to help calm you down.

It was real. It really happened. All the hurt, all the pain was being turned into rage, bubbling up inside of you.

How can you move on from this?

Four years ago……

You never thought you'd give up your stable job in Miami to pursue acting. Being an award winning actress was something you'd always dreamed of, but taking the leap was never in the picture. When one of your good friends told you about an opportunity for a role in a show you took the chance and went to audition for it. They offered you the role on the spot, which was the final push you needed to give your dream a chance. After a couple of roles, you were excited when you got a small part in a new show called The Mandalorian. It wasn’t a major role, but you were to interact with the Mandalorian and bounty hunter, Din Djarin, who is played by Pedro Pascal. You had no clue who Pedro is, but you do know you're more than excited to be in a Star Wars series.

Prior to filming the scene, you were to meet up with Pedro to quickly run through your lines and placement. As you were preparing hair and makeup, he popped into the trailer to introduce himself.

“Um, hi. Are you Anna?”

“Hi! Yes I am.”

“Oh hi! I'm Pedro. It's so nice to meet you.”

He extended his hand and as you were presenting yours a shock came between the both of you at the touch of his hand sending you jumping out of your seat.

“I'm so sorry! I guess I have too much static in my clothes."

He ran his hand through his hair nervously but covered with a beautiful smile that made your cheeks warm up.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck today and hope to talk to you more."

“Thank you for that. I hope so too."

As he attempted to walk out he slipped on the stairs to the trailer and hit his back on one of the steps.

“Oh my God! Pedro, are you ok?" You went to go help him, but he quickly got up and acted like nothing had happened.

“No no no, I’m good, I just wasn’t paying attention! See ya!” Embarrassed, he quickly left the trailer and shut the door.

You smiled and giggled from just what had happened but carried on finishing hair and makeup before they called you up.

After a long day of shooting, your scenes were done and finally were heading home where a bowl of cereal and a pair of pjs were calling your name. As you were getting closer to your car, you noticed a strange person pacing themselves back and forth by it. He was wearing thick square glasses with a dark blue long sleeve crew neck sweater, khaki shorts with colored stripe socks, and sneakers. If that didn’t give out sketchy stalker vibes then what will? The nerves started kicking in as you started reaching for your pepper spray inside your purse.

From afar you started raising your voice to give a fair warning.

“Umm hello, whoever you are! I just want to let you know that I have pepper spray in my purse and I'm not afraid to use it?”

“Hi Anna! It's me, Pedro."

Relieved but a little confused, you looked around expecting to see someone else. But the only people in the parking lot were you and Pedro.

“Ummm, hiiiii! Were you waiting here for me or someone else? Because I saw that you were walking back and forth by my car?”

“Shit, sorry to scare you like that. I mean yeah I was actually waiting for you”.

Taken back by what he just said “You were?”

He started laughing but in a cute flirtatious way. “Actually, I asked my assistant to ask when you were done filming so that I could track you down. I wanted to see if I could take you out for dinner."

Shocked, you let out a small chuckle. "Are you serious? Why me? Wait - how long have you been waiting for me?"

“Half an hour." He replied.

“Pedro, you should have gotten my number!" You laughed.

His fingers brush his mustache nervously .

“I think we clicked this morning and we hit it off when we were shooting. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you so I had to track you down."

“I think we hit it off as well. But next time get my number. Don't be getting all stalker mode.”

He let out the biggest laugh that made you smile.

“So is that a yes?” he asks as he puts on the cutest puppy face to try and convince you.

“Oh no, how can I resist that puppy face? Of course I would love to go out to dinner with you."

He took you to a Cuban restaurant in LA because you had mentioned to him during takes that you were home sick and missed your mom’s cooking. Not wasting any time you ordered a rum and coke as soon as the waiter came in. Not sure if this was a first date you were in sure need of liquid.

“Rum and coke?” Pedro asked.

“Yes, it's my go to drink and plus I'm a little nervous,” you replied.

He chuckled “Nervous? Would it be weird if I'm kinda nervous too?.”

Shocked and taken off guard you quickly lift your glass and chug half of your drink.

Well this should be fun, you thought.

“So tell me why are you single?” he bluntly asked you as he picked up his beer. He looked so relaxed asking you such a personal question.

“Straight to the hardcore questions I see, Mr. Pascal.” You jokingly tell him.

“Life has been complicated for me and the cards never aligned with me. It’s hard to find someone to settle down with in this city.” you explained to him.

Pedro pushes his glasses back “Well….. maybe we can change that.”

“Maybe we will.” as you looked at him while taking your drink.

The night went on as the both of you were telling jokes, talking about each other's lives, interests and you come to find out that the both of you have a lot in common. Flirtation was on high alert between the both of you.

While waiting for the check he popped open his phone and scooted close to you and brought you close to him. He turned on the camera of the phone and put the selfie mode and the both of you got together cheek to cheek and took a picture.

“What is this for? Just in case you murder me and you have an alibi? Plus do you know that you are taking video and not camera?” you joked.

“Oh crap I always do this wrong.” He quickly changes the photo mode and takes the picture. As he took out his wallet to pay the bill he presented his other hand to you and said “To answer your question I want to take a picture of us because it would be something that we can look back on as a reminder of our first date.” The biggest smile came from you as you believed he was hinting something to you.

The two of you made your way through the neighborhood towards your apartment complex.

You arrive at your doorstep, turn to him with a twisted smile, not sure what to do next.

“Well this is my place. Thank you for tonight Pedro. I really had a good time tonight.”

Pedro smiled at you “I had an amazing night too, Anna. It feels good to go out with someone new that I can get to know and maybe more.” As he inches closer to you the keys from your purse slipped out as you were searching for them. Pedro grabbed them and his wrist accidently brushed your ankle and you instantly gulped, his touch made you weak in the knees.

He presents you your keys and his hand brushes your palm as he places the keys on your hands “I believe you need this.”

“Clumsy me,” you blush.

Pedro slowly approaches you once more “Just a little clumsy but it's cute.”

He places a soft short kiss and slowly retreats back a few inches and the both of you are stuck looking deep into each other's eyes. Without hesitation, you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into an intense kiss. His energy matches yours by the roughness and gentleness that the both of you were having. He gently grabbed your neck and pulled you even more to him and the kiss grew to become more passionate. The both of you fall back against your apartment door. Your hands glide through his curls. You tease him by slightly biting his lower lip and in return he wanders his hands all over your body. The intensity was getting fierce between the both of you. When all of a sudden-

“Umm excuse me Miss?” The apartment complex security interrupted the moment.

Your lips departed from his and the both of you started giggling as Pedro placed his chin on your forehead to brush out the embarrassment as the both of you waited for the security guard to leave.

Letting go of his hand, you placed a soft kiss on his cheek “I gotta go but thank you again. I hope for more soon.”

You open the door, walk in and slowly turn back to him “Good night Pedro.”

Your life was never the same after that date.

While your relationship with Pedro flourished, so did both of your careers. After the first season of The Mandalorian, Pedro went on to do several movies while you got several acting jobs that gave you the status per the tabloids of “Rising Stars to Watch”. After 2 years in the business you finally scored your big break in the role of a lifetime. You were cast as a series regular in Law and Order SVU. Filming for the show was done in New York which meant that you had to move from Hollywood to New York. This was a secret that you wanted to share with Pedro but you were waiting for the right time to share it with him.

New Year's Eve 2019…

Pedro’s best friend Oscar invited you and Pedro to spend New Years with them in his apartment in New York. This was going to be the perfect opportunity to share the good news with Pedro. On the night of the party right before the clock struck 12, you pulled Pedro to the side and finally told him about the casting news and he couldn’t control his excitement. He grabbed you and twirled you around as the clock was striking 12 and in that moment he told you the words that you were waiting for him to tell you.

“I love you A.”

You ran your hand across his little curl that was hanging in his face and you repeated the words back to him, “I love you.” and he gave you the most passionate kiss.

He asked you to move into his apartment because he didn’t want you living alone when he had a place that he could share with you. Moving in with your famous boyfriend was a big step in your relationship but you felt that things happened for a reason so you accepted his offer to move in with him.

One of the things that you loved and respected about Pedro was that he didn’t share his personal life events in social media. But he was so excited that he asked Oscar to take a picture of the both of you and in that moment, he posted the picture with a cop and heart emoji next to it.

For the next three years, New York was your home for personal and work. Life for you was going exponentially well. Hard work was finally paying off when after two seasons you received your first Emmy nomination for your role in Law and Order. As your professional life was increasing in fame you were in an amazing relationship with an amazing man. Pedro was becoming the leading man in Hollywood with roles from The Bubble to The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and he became the top notch actor when he was cast in the leading role of a lifetime as Joel Miller in The Last of Us.

Crazy schedules between the both of you became the new norm for the both of you. Even though you had gotten used to the hectic schedule, it was taking a toll on your relationship and the spark wasn’t there as it used to be. While he was in Calgary filming, you had decided to go visit him because you had the weekend off. You wanted to speak to Pedro about the concerns you had.

It was a cold spring day when you arrived in Calgary. You had called his assistant to check his schedule so that you could surprise him. They led you to his apartment that he was staying at in Calgary and you just waited for him to arrive. It was going to be a while until he arrived so you took advantage and took a nap.

The next day….

You were awoken by the sound of a key entering the door knob. You quickly react and look at your watch and it shows 6am the next day. What had turned out to be a couple of hours ended up being the next day. You were only going to be there 3 days and you just lost one whole day.

As he walked towards the living room he saw you on the sofa and was shocked by your presence.

“Babe? What are you doing here?”

Slowly getting up from the sofa, you gave him a kiss to greet him. “Well, I came to surprise you and I had asked your assistant what your schedule was and she had told me that it was only a couple of hours of shooting so I decided to wait here for you. I laid down and I fell asleep.”

Pedro looked tired and just wanted to go to sleep.

“Yeah we had a long shoot and we finished a couple of hours ago. I just came straight here.”

Bothered by his response “Did your assistant tell you that there was something for you at the apartment?”

“I mean they did but I didn't know it was you. Why didn’t you just call me?”

“Well you barely called or text me today, Pedro, or I would have just told you.”

Pedro slumped himself into the sofa and didn’t look at you. It had been almost a month since the last time the both of you had seen each other.

You got up and faced him:

“Ok something is going on. Pedro, is something wrong with you? Are you ok?”

It was in that moment as tired as he was that he told you that he thinks that the both of you need space. He felt at the moment that with everything going between the both of you and careers that it was best that you take some time apart to concentrate on your careers. Asking when he came to that realization and he expressed that he had been thinking about it for a couple of months but didn’t want to break your heart and never had the moment to tell you. Unexpected by the words and really shocked that he wanted to end the relationship, you didn’t wait to react. You quickly grab your stuff and leave the apartment without saying a word to Pedro and head back to the airport to catch the first flight back to New York.

You hadn’t shed a tear yet since the bad news and you were just building it up inside until you arrived at the apartment.

Current day…

“Ready to go A?”

“What? Umm yeah. I'm just grabbing my purse.”

Slowly passing your finger on the frame that held that selfie picture from your first date. The last tear you would shed comes down your cheek and was quickly wiped away as you place the frame back on the stand.

“I’m ready. Let’s go Chloe, I need to get out of this place.”

Four years of memories all cramped into luggage. You took one last look at the apartment as you unclipped the apartment key from your keys and placed it on the table stand. Not leaving a note was the best thing you did. Before you shut the lights and closed the door, you took one last look and quietly said “Goodbye old life” and shut the door.

3 months later ……

Award season had commenced and you were busy attending the majority of events. Solo of course. Pedro hadn’t mentioned to the media about the breakup and neither did you. Every red carpet you attended, when a question was asked about him, you would just lie and say he was busy filming in Calgary and that was the reason he couldn't attend. With every question that was asked about him, you would swallow your emotions and try your best to not let it get to you.

The Emmys finally arrived and it was the event you had been anticipating. It ended up being the best night of your life because you won the Emmy you were nominated for. While everyone was expecting Pedro to be there, you brought your assistant as your date to the awards show. Looking beautiful in a gorgeous gown, you walk up the stairs to the podium to accept your award. In your speech, you were able to thank everyone - friends, family, cast, and agent, but no mention of Pedro. You returned to your seat where you would look at your phone which had endless missed calls and text messages but the one text or call that you really wanted never came in. Disappointed as you were, it wasn't going to let you drag the night. Arriving back to your hotel at 4am from celebrating in the after parties, right before you jump into your bed, the phone dings with a new text message. When you take a look you were surprised by who it was:

New Text Message 4:30am - Pedro - “Congrats A! You deserve it. All my love. P”

The message was there staring back at you. Should you text back? Should you not? Every single question arises from this one text from him but in the end you shut the phone off and went to sleep.

The next two months you were filming in Venice for a new movie with Bradley Cooper. Keeping busy keeps you focused and not thinking about Pedro. A month into filming you had seen Pedro’s instagram that he was also in Venice filming a new commercial for a video game. But while the temptation was there for the both of you, neither one texted or called each other to meet up. While the gossip columns were creating rumors that there was an off screen romance with Bradley Cooper, and that he was your rebound from Pedro, you were always to laugh when you would hear such ridiculous rumors.

You were asked to be a presenter at the Oscars, which was an amazing and exciting opportunity for you. Looking your best was your number one priority. Valentino had called you up and wanted to dress you for the event which made you excited, but also more nervous about going. When they presented you a rough draft of the dress, you were amazed by the presentation of the dress and how it showed off all your curves, which was exactly what you were looking for.

A week before you were told that the last batch of presenters were announced, lo and behold, Pedro Pascal is one of them. In the height of his fame, between all his projects, of course he would be a presenter. A knot in your stomach came about from the news.

Will he speak to me?

Will he bring someone?

Oscar Day…

Oscar prep day was mayhem. You spent the whole day prepping. Immense pressure was building up as this was a once in a lifetime event and you wanted to look your ultimate best. Nerves were starting to creep as you settled in behind the SUV. Your hands were slick with sweat from nerves of going to this and at the same time seeing Pedro for the first since the breakup. As the SUV arrived at the Roosevelt Hotel, you felt like throwing up. Not only were you nervous about being here, you were tormented by the fact of running into him after so much time. As the driver walks around to open the door, one word pops out as you slowly whisper to yourself.

“Showtime”

The door is open and the whole audience looks at you and starts screaming and shouting your name. As you walked to the carpet you put on the biggest smile and wave to the crowd.

Chloe had prepped you on what to do and where to go on the carpet. It felt like a video game that you had to battle through and get to the finish line. The finish line was the champagne carpet. Making your way through the red carpet, you took pictures with your fans and made your way through the interviewing portion. Still feeling overwhelmed and starstruck, the nerves kick into high gear when you arrive at your first reporter. The typical questions were asked:

“How are you doing?”

“Who are you wearing?”

“Who are you excited to see?”

The first two sets of interviews went by like a breeze. The champagne carpet was getting closer and closer as you finished each interview. No personal questions had been asked, but you were dreading the questions that would come from Entertainment Tonight. They would typically ask gossip questions and it wasn’t so much about the fashion. The interview started smooth:

“Anna, you look stunning. One of the best dressed of the night! I’m sure everyone’s jaws dropped as soon as you walked on the red carpet.”

“Well, thank you for that. It’s all the work of my amazing team that helped me get ready.”

“Are we riding solo tonight?” - the question she was dreaded to be asked.

“Well, by date if you mean this nice Bulgari necklace that came along with the bodyguard then no I am not riding solo.” The interviewer laughed at your response and followed up with another question.

“Speaking of solo, there has been speculation that you and Pedro were possibly back together since the both of you are here today. Is that rumor true or should we put the rumor to rest?”

You instantly cringed.

“Well I didn't know that he was coming tonight. Whatever happened between myself and Pedro is for us to keep private. It was a mutual decision to just stay friends. I am sure we will bump into each other tonight and we will be able to catch up. I know he has been busy the past couple of months so it will be great to see him.”

The reporter turned to the camera while you stared at her in the background “Well guys, there's a shot for you now. Good luck to all.” You giggled at her comment as she turned back to you.

“Before you go, I want to congratulate you on the movie you are doing with Bradley Cooper.”

“Oh thank you.”

“I heard there was a romance. With everything that has gone with your personal life, how did you get ready for this role?”

“With everything that has changed in my life the past year, whether professionally or personally, I have been able to use that experience and incorporated that into this role. Filming this movie has been a learning experience and being around veteran actors like Bradley has helped me become a better actor.”

“Well, that is going to be an amazing movie and I cannot wait to see it! Thank you so much and have a great evening.”

The interview concluded and a huge relief fell off your shoulders. The champagne carpet was next and then you are home free. The Champagne Carpet was just all photographers flashing lights and screaming your name to take different angles of you. Carefully, you walked to where there was a star placed on the floor which was where you were to stand. Everyone was completely mesmerized by your appearance. The stunning silk red beaded dress hugged all your curves. The dress featured a leg slit that was bound to make people’s jaw drop. To finish your look, you wore a matching necklace along with a pair of red stunner heels. As you posed for pictures, the paparazzi started screaming for your attention.

“Lady in red! Hey Anna over here!”

“Anna! Anna! Over here please!”

Feeling in the moment, you didn’t care who was calling your name. You made sure that every angle was taken of you and your gorgeous dress.

As you were finalizing the last couple of shots, a change of phase was done and all of sudden the name you didn’t expect to hear was starting to be shouted.

“Pedro! Pedro! Pedro!”

With a smile on your face as pictures were taken of you, you just felt frozen and wanted to quickly get out of there. There he was, a few feet from you. You felt your blood was rushing from your head to your heart. Seeing him for the first time since the day you ran out of the Calgary apartment reminded you that whatever life you had shared with him in the past was just the past.

Taking a quick glance you saw him looking remarkably handsome. His hair was slicked back. He was wearing a fitted black tailored tuxedo with a white stand-collar shirt. Rings? Were those rings he was wearing? He reminded you of Dieter Bravo role with the rings. He had a ring on his left hand like a wedding band. Did he get married? Your chest started to compress on thinking that thought and not knowing if that was true. Did he come with a date? His wife?

In a split second, you swallowed a sigh of relief.

“Javiera, big smile! What is it like coming with your brother?”

“Javiera! Pedro! Over here!”

Chloe noticed that you were trying to get out of there and quickly called your name before you cracked under pressure. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Pedro was starting to head to you and Chloe grabbed you so fast to take you out that Pedro didn’t catch your attention.

“Anna, everything ok?” Your eyes wandered again back to Pedro as you saw him still taking pictures.

“Yeah I’m fine. Let’s go inside.” You nodded your head as it made you believe your flat out lie you were telling yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was to give the press newsworthy gossip.

Luckily, they placed the both of you in different areas in the theater so there was no interaction between you. During the ceremony, you would engage and fangirl with all the celebrities that you met. Despite trying not to cross paths with Pedro, you had an overall good time at the ceremony.

Few hours later, after the ceremony

If there was an after party that one had to be invited to, it was the Vanity Fair party. You made your way through the carpet and into the party. Once you were given directions and you were inside the party, you headed straight to the bar to grab a drink.

“Rum and coke please?”

As you were waiting for a drink a strong hand grasped your wrist. You instantly turned and were taken back by who was in front of you.

“Oh shit did I scare you? I'm so sorry.” Pedro directed you.

Completely off guard, you grinned at him. In that moment, you really wanted to fall into his arms and give him the biggest kiss, but held back. Though you were still hurting from the breakup you were still in love with him.

You laughed “No way! You didn’t scare me.”

He started getting giddy and sounded nervous as he complimented how you looked. As the place started getting crowded, Pedro moved closer to you.

“How have you been? I know we haven’t spoken since that day. I have been wanting to reach out but I figured you didn’t want to talk to me.”

Looking directly into his eyes and not wanting to let your emotions out, you respond to his comment to be as real as it could get.

“I've been fine. Keeping myself busy with work.”

“I noticed. Your movie with Bradley looks amazing. I’m really proud of you. You have come so far from being an extra on Mando.”

You gave him a meaningful smile. The music started getting louder and it was getting difficult to talk or hear each other. Pedro got even closer and now he was inches from your face. He slowly moved his lips over to you and whispered “I would like to catch up with you if that’s ok with you? Save me a dance ok?”

It was clear both of you wanted each other. As he gradually touched your arm a shock came across the both of you.

“Ouch! Are you ok A?”

Rubbing your arm from that tingling sensation you laugh and smile at him.

“I guess we always shock ourselves.”

The party was electric. Champagne was flowing from wall to wall. Award winners were showing off their new accessory to everyone who was in attendance, while you enjoyed partying it up on the dance floor. Pedro was sitting close by and his eyes were on you as you danced with everyone in your vicinity. You knew he was watching, so you took the chance to dance the best way that would attract his attention. His close presence wasn’t going to let you ruin your night. The DJ was on point with the music that they were playing when all of a sudden the dj drops “Let’s Go Crazy.”

Shit, Oh no! This is one of his favorite songs!

Right when the first verse commenced, you felt a strong grip grab and turn you around.

“Can I have this dance?” You nodded. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. The both of you sway to the rhythm of the music. You place your arms around his shoulders, bringing you closer to each other. Everyone is for sure looking at the both of you. As the music continues, both of you had your eyes locked on each other. Things were heating between the both of you. His lips looked so delicious and you want to take a bite of it. The tension between you was orgasmic, making you breathless when the song abruptly ends.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod your head up and down. He lays his hand on your side and brings you closer and places his lips on yours. It had been seven months since you last kissed him and yet this kiss felt like the first time he kissed you on that first date.

Backing away from him you realize this was wrong.

“I miss you A,” he quietly told you.

Seemingly confused, you let go of hands. He was probably talking nonsense. It was clear that the both of you wanted each other and alcohol was not helping the situation. He inched closer towards you again and glided his hand down your back, his fingers warm where your skin was exposed, pulling you closer to try and kiss you again.

“I can’t do this.”

Picking up your dress, you headed outside to get some air. The air felt crisp as you placed your hands on the edge of the balcony rail looking out to the flashing LA lights. Your chest started compacting. Breathing was becoming shorter. The lights were starting to become extremely bright and you were losing sense of what was going on with you and started to feel like you were going to faint.

Were you losing your mind?

Were you having a panic attack?

Did you drink too much?

Don’t make a scene at the Oscars. You can’t be on the front page.

Placing your hand on your chest, you quickly tried to calm yourself when suddenly Pedro saw and quickly ran towards you.

“Hey, hey! Look at me. It’s me. It’s me. Breathe, baby girl! Breathe, baby girl!” He slowly placed his hands on your cheeks as you looked into his eyes to calm down. The breathing started to slow back down, the flashing lights started to dim and come back to normal. Pedro grabbed you carefully and sat you down as he went to grab you some water. After a couple of breaths, you felt reality slowly coming back to you.

He hands you the glass and sits next to you.

“Are you ok?’’

You nodded.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong? Was it the kiss?”

“No, no. The kiss was ….” you paused and turned to look at his gorgeous face. “It was amazing. It reminded me of when we first kissed. But it just felt wrong.”

He slowly grabs your hands and your fingers intertwine with his.

“I miss you, A. What I did was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go.” His eyes are pleading and wide just like a lost dog wanting to be loved again.

Your heart starts to race. “P, I don’t think I can do this again.”

“Why not?” As he continued to plead to you. “You don’t love me anymore? That kiss that we had back there showed me that there is still something between us. Don’t you want that again?”

“Pedro, you decided to end this relationship. When I came back to New York I cried for you. I didn't know what to do or how to feel about myself.” Your heart starts racing even more and the tension is rising but you didn’t want to make a scene in front of people, so you hold yourself together.

“Look. I didn’t come to this event hoping to see you after all this time. I just can’t deal with this. You're just too late Pedro.”

As you start to walk away from him, he grabs you once again. “You don’t mean that A,” he tells you with his glossy eyes. “I wasn’t thinking right when I told you that.” He doesn’t make eye contact with you. “I was just tired and overwhelmed by everything going on with my life. This show is brutal and kicking my ass but I want it to be perfect. I just lost myself in it. Everyday I woke up and I felt out of place. I feel empty inside and it's because you aren’t with me.”

Visually upset, you rush towards him. “P, you could have talked to me, told me how you feel. I could have taken days off from the show to be together. But you didn’t do that. You just decided not to be with me. Four years! Four years of growing and experiencing life moments together and all for what? I don’t want to be with someone that can’t be open and then leaves them high and dry when things become difficult. I just can’t do that and I'm done with this.”

Wanting to get out of there, you quickly pick up your dress and started heading back towards the party, when you feel a hand pulling your shoulder around, spinning your whole body the opposite direction. His lips pushed against yours and his hands rested on your cheeks. You pull back after what felt like an eternity and look at his face. What you saw were sad eyes that made your heart ache. “A, I need you, I love you and I’m sorry.” You just needed to say it back.

Say it.

You need him, you love him and you forgive him.

But you don’t want to get hurt again. You slowly give his hands a slight squeeze and let them go.

“I love you P but I just can’t.” Your voice cracks as a tear finally gives way and slips down the side of your face as you walked past him, leaving Pedro all alone in the balcony as you disappeared into the crowd.

----------

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ageofhearingloss · 10 months

Text

Pick Yourself Up Pt. 2 | Jake Kiszka

a/n: y'all got homework! mandatory listening assignment to accompany this part:

this is a major plot point in this part of the story😎 y/n makes an appearance, but i really want this story to be about jakey so this is not my normal writing from y/n's pov. i'm really happy with how it turned out, and even more excited for where this story is headed!!!! as always, let me know what yall think xoxoxoxo

here's pt. 1

summary: after years of trying to make his dream of being a musician a reality, jake continues to fall short. on the brink of giving up, can his passion alone keep him afloat, or will he need help from others?

pairing: jake kiszka x fem reader

warnings: language, angst (although this part is much happier than the last) , alcohol consumption, light themes of depression and possible eating disorder

word count: 6.9k lol

“Ma, for the millionth time, I’m okay. Really,” Jake assured, phone held between his ear and his shoulder as he struggled to set a couple dirty plates in the sink, “I don’t know why that asshole called you.”

“Josh called me because he’s worried about you, honey, and so am I. You promised me you’d call me every week and I haven’t heard from you in a month.”

He let out a deep sigh; Josh only ever got Karen involved when he deemed the situation drastic enough. It was true, though. He hadn’t reached out to his mother for a while now and that alone was cause for her to worry. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to her, but it was the same reason that he couldn’t face his brothers: he didn’t want for her to see the truth of how he was living. Sure, he was close with Karen, but he never had the relationship that Josh had with her and because of that, it was easier for him to hide from her.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’ve just been… busy-”

“With gigs?” she questioned innocently, “How are they going?”

Jake didn’t see the use in hiding the truth from her further but he paused, thinking about the correct way to imply how he was doing without saying it outright.

“Jakey?”

“Uh, they’re not going so hot, Mom, if I’m being honest,” he said as he straightened up over the sink, bringing a free hand to the back of his neck, letting a shaky breath escape from his lips. “Just kind of same old, same old.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. How so?”

“No one is biting, I guess. I play the same gigs nearly every week in hopes that the consistency will land me in front of the right eyes and ears, but nothing’s happening,” Jake explained, closing his eyes before continuing, “Barely making any money these days, either. It’s been a real drag. I’m feeling a bit hopeless.”

Shit, that part wasn’t supposed to come out.

His mother was silent on the other line, surely waiting for him to continue. He was half expecting her to begin down the road that she always went down; how he was the most talented kid she’s ever heard, how he just needs to continue to be patient, but it never came. He listened to her breathing before he finally asked, “Mom?”

He was then met with sniffles from the other line. Fuck, is she crying?

“Ma, hello?”

“My baby, I didn’t know you were struggling like this,” Karen began, voice wobbly as she spoke. “This has been your dream since you could walk, I assumed that since I hadn’t heard from you that meant it was finally coming true.”

Damn.

“I know Josh probably told you to keep going and be patient. He’s always been right when it comes to giving you advice. Whatever he said, I’m sure I agree,” she continued. “What do you need, Jakey? Should I come down to see you? Do you have groceries? I can-”

He laughed before cutting her off, “No, Mom, really I’m okay. I swear. Plus, I’ll be home soon enough for Dad’s birthday.”

“Are you sure, baby? Josh mentioned to me that you’re looking a little…” she hesitated before finishing her thought. “I’m going to send you some food whether you like it or not.”

That bastard really sees through everything, doesn’t he?

Jake knew that he had been disregarding his health recently, but his mind was elsewhere. And he absolutely hadn’t realized that it had gotten so bad that his physical appearance had shifted, but of course his twin was able to detect any subtle changes before Jake saw them himself. Trying to scrounge up the money for monthly expenses had become increasingly difficult; he couldn’t remember the last time he had been to the grocery store.

Before he could respond, his phone began beeping signifying he was getting another call.

Sam.

“Hang on, Mom, Sam’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Love you.”

“Alright honey, call me when you can. Watch your front door for groceries! I love you!”

After briskly disconnecting the call, he answered Sam with a meek, “Hello?”

“Can’t believe you actually picked up. That’s the first time in weeks!” Sam laughed out, his cheery, sarcastic tone palpable through the phone.

“Sorry man, I’m trying to get better at that. What’s up?”

“Well, Josh clued me in that he had given you some instructions and knowing that you don’t have a gig tonight, I believe you are contractually obligated to go out with me and Daniel. Josh will be joining us at some point, too.”

Jake took a sharp inhale through his nose. Truthfully, he was nervous to begin socializing with his brothers again. He had grown accustomed to being by his lonesome; he didn’t particularly enjoy it and was lonely most of the time, but at least he could be his authentic self and process his emotions freely without the eyes of others watching him. He racked his brain for a sufficient way to decline his little brother's offer, an excuse that would seem legitimate enough for Sam to believe.

“Sam, I-”

“Remember, you can’t say no!” Sam yelled through the phone, partnered with a poor attempt at a maniacal laugh.

Jake closed his eyes once more, bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. He knew he would never hear the end of it from any of his brothers if he declined yet another invitation.

“All right, asshole, I’m in.”

Jake could hear Sam hollering on the other line, seemingly pulling the phone away to tell who he assumed to be Daniel, “The fucker said yes! Can you believe it!” Then, speaking directly into the phone,

“Meet us at Robert’s at 8pm, and don’t be late! Oh, and bring your guitar!”

The phone disconnected with a swift click, leaving Jake to wonder just what trouble his brothers had in store for him tonight. I think Robert’s is that place I’ve been trying to play at for months now…

He looked around his apartment and thought to himself, “Man, this place is disgusting. You really let yourself go.” He continued collecting dirty dishes from all corners of his home, placing them in the sink before cranking the faucet and filling the basin with warm, soapy water. It’d only been a couple days since his talk with Josh, and he found himself surprised that his brother's words had affected him as much as they had. There was hope in his heart, even if it was just a small glimmer, but he felt compelled to begin trying again. To make an effort to show up for his brothers, but also for himself.

A couple hours later, the dishes had been dried and put away, garbage collected and taken down to the dumpster behind the building. He even took the time to wipe down his counters and finally change the lightbulbs in the hanging lamp that illuminated his kitchen. To keep him company while he worked, he put on his favorite records, something that again he hadn’t done in what felt like months. He let the familiar songs soothe him, his mind lulled into a comfortable rhythm. Humming along as he worked, he began to realize that he felt the most at ease he’s felt in ages; his head was free from the heavy thoughts that have been clouding his brain for the better part of a year, the tension in his shoulders beginning to feel a little less tight. Sure, he still felt the gravity of his situation, but having the motivation to clean himself up a bit was a new, welcome change. All thanks to Josh, that fucker.

Cleaning out the fridge, he was startled by the sound of his doorbell buzzing. Throwing on the pair of beat up Birkenstocks, he made his way through the door and ran down the stairs to be met with a grocery delivery. He picked up the large cardboard box, hauling it upstairs and setting it on the kitchen counter. He noticed a note from Karen lay on the top as he opened the box:

Take care of yourself, sweetie. Can’t wait to see you soon.

Love, Mom

He smiled to himself, carefully placing the note next to the box before digging through it, noticing how she sent him all his favorite foods. He put the groceries away swiftly, and as he closed the door to the fridge he caught sight of the clock on the stove, 7:46pm.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath before running to his room to throw more presentable clothes on, grabbing his guitar case on his way out the door. Sam had told him not to be late.

~~~~~~

Y/N POV

“Yeah, yeah, Caitlyn, 7:45 sharp. I got it,” you said as your phone was snug between your cheek and your shoulder, bringing your bags and equipment down to your car. It was nearing 6pm; you and your bandmates had a local gig tonight at a bar that you frequented.

“Just please don’t be late like last time! This gig is actually really important, and we’ve only got 15 minutes to get set up,” your drummer explained, concern and anticipation evident in her tone.

“I’m sorry I was late last time, Cait, I promise I won’t be again!” You slammed the trunk of your car shut with your free hand, “You know I’m not usually like that.” She knows I was having car trouble…

“I know, tonight is just nerve wracking. I’m kinda freaking out. The whole open mic thing… who knows who’s gonna be there.”

“I can tell! But it’s gonna be fine. I’m heading to Jen's now to make some last minute tweaks to her solo. I’ll see you soon!”

You said goodbye to your friend before shoving your phone back in your pocket. Not too long ago, you and your childhood friends had set out to Nashville to live out your dream of making it as musicians. You had all been playing together for longer than you could remember, the band falling into your lap without any real amount of effort. Caitlyn, your neighbor growing up, was a force to be reckoned with on drums, Jen, your best friend since kindergarten, on guitar, and your cousin, Tyler, holding it down on the bass. You had been chosen as the lead vocalist before you truly knew how to sing, but once falling into the role, you took your job incredibly seriously, taking as many voice lessons as you physically could to solidify your now resonant and skilled voice.

The four of you hit the ground running once getting to Tennessee, and somehow luck had been on your side, managing to play for the right group of people and now you had your first EP out, working to get your debut album out after having signed with a label. You were confident in your abilities and even more confident in your sound, having pushed many other priorities aside to focus on this career that you had set in motion with your friends.

After climbing in the driver's seat and twisting the ignition, you blasted the AC in your car. Who knew how long it would take for you to get used to the southern heat. It was only a short drive to Jens, something the two of you made sure of when you were looking at apartments, and as you drove you began humming possible riffs for her to try out on the new song you’d be debuting tonight.

She ushered you inside her place quickly upon your arrival, clearly anxious about your performance tonight.

“Cait is totally getting to me. I wasn’t nervous at all until she called me a couple minutes ago,” she fussed, leading you into her makeshift home studio and slinging her guitar strap over her head, walking over to the amp and plugging in.

You chuckled, digging your own acoustic out of its case, “I really think it’s going to be great! We’ve been rehearsing day in and day out, and we’ve played this bar before so at least that bit isn’t new.”

“I think she’s nervous because they asked her to be the drummer for the open mic that’s happening after our set. They’re paying her good money so she didn’t turn it down, but you know how she is.”

Oh shit, I didn’t know that part.

“Did they ask you or Tyler to stick around, too?” You realized that tonight may be a bigger deal than you had originally thought.

“Nah, it sounded like they already had a guitarist, and I think they have someone on both electric and upright bass. We’re going to stick around for Cait’s sake, but who knows, we might hear some good shit tonight,” she said, pulling her hair out from under the guitar strap and throwing it over her shoulder, “Now, show me what you’ve been thinking about.”

You beamed at her, situating your guitar on your knee before strumming out the ideas you had come up with.

End of y/n POV

~~~~~~

“An open mic?” Jake spat out at Sam, grasping his brother's forearm tightly. “You shithead, why did you bring me to this place?”

Sam was howling with laughter as he yanked out of Jake’s grip, leading him to the table where Danny and Josh sat, somehow already inebriated, whooping and hollering once Jake was in their line of sight. Jake reluctantly plopped down in a chair beside his twin, facing the tiny stage in the corner of the bar that was illuminated by soft overhead floodlights. Nonchalantly swirling his whiskey in its highball glass, he glanced around the bar. So this is Robert’s…

It looked like any other dive bar, but a little tidier. The walls were painted a dark crimson with neon beer signs and vintage pinup posters consuming every inch of space. The booths were made of brown, worn leather, the floors a warm hardwood. He took inventory of the instruments already set up on stage, and noticed the upright bass snug in the corner. Maybe this wouldn’t be a waste of his time after all.

Josh nudging his shoulder caught his attention.

“I’m really glad you're here, it means a lot,” Josh slurred, just above a whisper that only Jake could hear.

A slight grin graced his lips as he shrugged before Josh continued, “Did you talk to Mom?”

“Yeah, I talked to her,” Jake replied, jabbing his elbow into his brother's ribs, “thanks for ratting me out. She was all worried and shit. Even sent me groceries.”

Josh shook his head, a cheesy smile plastered to his face accompanied by a pink flush of his cheeks, surely due to the alcohol in his system, “Sorry, man, but you looked like crap! I had to tell her!”

Jake couldn’t help but match his brother's smile; he was beginning to feel true gratitude for all three of them. He was realizing exactly how much they cared for him, willing to carry his burden on their shoulders in any way they knew how. He glanced over to Danny and Sam where they were having their own conversation, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell, an emotion that was only supplied when he was spending time with his brothers.

Danny caught his eyes for a split second and offered him a tight smile; Jake hadn’t apologized to him yet.

Tonight, if I can find time alone with him. I need to do better. He knew he potentially hurt Danny more than any of his other brothers, and there was still a piece of him too swollen with pride to completely let himself admit just how badly he had fucked up. Before he let himself get too much in his head, something that Josh consistently warned him about, he cleared his throat to gain the attention of the group.

“Alright, Sammy boy, wanna tell us why we’re here? And why I needed my guitar?” He accompanied the question with a raised eyebrow, inclining his glass towards Sam.

“Well, brother, if you would be patient for just a couple minutes, we’re here to see a band and they should be starting any second now,” Sam replied, clasping his hands together. “The lead singer is a waitress at my restaurant. She told everyone their band had a gig here tonight,” he explained, taking a second to glance around the bar, searching the crowd, “but it looks like I’m the only asshole who bothered to show up!”

“I’ve heard them play before, they’re pretty good! And her voice is unbelievable,” Daniel chimed in, eyes piercing Jake’s as he added, “I think you’re really gonna like her.”

Don’t tell me these assholes are trying to set me up.

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why-”

Jake was cut off by the lights in the bar dimming, turning his attention again to the small stage to watch three musicians climb the few steps up to the platform. A tall brunette took her place behind the drumset, muscular arms and stoic features that seemed to be evident in every drummer he’s encountered. He observed the spritely woman with flowing hair plugging her cobalt guitar into the amp, throwing her wavy locks over her shoulder in the process, and a towering, lanky man who stood impossibly still as he clutched his bass guitar, a mysterious air around him, his eyes hidden behind dark aviator sunglasses. Each one different, surely bringing their own unique voices to the collective whole, but Jake could already tell that their chemistry would likely be unmatched.

The three musicians checked their sound, the guitarists making sure their strings were in tune, before the lead vocalist made it onto the stage. And as Jake watched her ascend the steps, lights glistening off of her hair and bouncing off her features, his breath was stolen out of his chest.

She took center stage, if he could even call it that with how confined the space was, and he watched with rapt attention as she adjusted the stand to her height and spoke a hushed “Check, check,” into the microphone. Her voice was low, sultry, alluring, and everything clicked into place as to why his brothers had brought him here tonight. His eyes were glued to the stage, however, oblivious to the three men observing him, smiles plastered wide across their faces upon realizing that they had been successful in their plan.

She then turned around and spoke something to the rest of the band, all of them nodding and smiling in agreement before a light shuffle began sounding from the drumkit. They all fell into an easy groove, their sound a tempting soulful rock that only few could pull off these days, in Jake’s opinion. He couldn’t take his eyes off the singer as she turned back to the mic, her eyes closed and head softly lilting along rhythmically, an easy, almost lazy smile dancing across her face.

Jake brought his glass up to his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, settling in for what he knew was about to be a fantastic set, but paused his actions as she stepped closer to the mic, drawing a breath as her eyes opened and the first note slipped past her lips.

He was sure he looked ridiculous, glass held halfway between the table and his lips, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly agape, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. He was entranced by her voice; his personal siren calling only to him, hypnotizing him. He watched as she effortlessly swayed, interacting with the other musicians she shared the stage with. She was completely in her element, no sense of anxiety or nervousness written in her complexion or any of her bandmates. She acknowledged the audience only a few times, graciously accepting their applause and smiling at Sam when he waved excitedly at her, only to flit her eyes around the rest of the table, pausing when she finally landed on Jake.

His breath caught again and he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. For a fleeting moment, they were the only two in the dimly lit bar.

All he could do was stare, and she held his eyes for longer than what would be deemed comfortable, but it seemed as though she couldn’t bring her eyes away from his, either. Only when she heard a familiar cue did she drop his heated gaze, returning to her revelry-like state as the band began another song.

Jake caught himself blinking a few times in an effort to try to bring himself back to reality. He glanced briefly at his brothers sitting with him and cursed under his breath when he noticed all three of them already looking his way, knowing smiles evident on each of their lips. He was still clueless to the fact that they had been observing him all night long, not noticing Sam when he leaned over to whisper to Daniel or Josh, “I told you so!”

The set was about 45 minutes long, giving 15 minutes until the open mic started. An older man hopped onto the stage once the band was done, saying that there were still plenty of spots available and that the sign-up sheet was taped over on the bar. The four brothers were still huddled around the table when Sam popped up quickly to announce he was going to get them all another round, which none of them objected to, before hurrying over to the bar.

It was hard for Jake to turn off the voice in his head that was begging and pleading him to go back to the safety of his home, but he had to admit that listening to her sing had been well worth his time. And although he groaned at the thought of listening to whatever “nonsense” was going to be played at the open mic, there was no way he would turn down the opportunity to have the chance to talk to her once her and the rest of her band finished packing up their instruments.

9 o’clock rolled around, fresh drinks arriving on the table as the brothers talked amongst themselves; it had been far too long since Jake had caught up with them. He learned about the upcoming movie Josh would be working on in the next couple months, always excited to hear his twin talk about something he was so passionate about. The first couple of acts had played their songs, none of them horrible but none of them garnering any of their attention, all too engrossed in each other's company.

Jake was right in the middle of hearing about the most recent tournament Daniel had been involved in when he heard his name being called.

“Jacob Kiszka and Y/f/n Y/l/n, come on down!”

What the fuck?

He panicked as he looked between his brothers, darting his eyes between them until he landed on the culprit, Sam. Of course it was Sam; his little brother was known for getting them into all types of trouble, saying that it was always easier to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. “Plus,” he would always say, “you guys have to admit that was pretty fun.”

Sam was already beaming, not faltering when Jake gritted at him through his teeth,

“You motherfucker, what did you do?”

All Sam did was shrug and gesture towards Jake’s guitar case, not intimidated in the slightest by Jake’s blinding rage.

I can’t play with her, let alone begin to think about what we could play together- His mind was running a mile a minute as he glanced between his guitar and Sam, cursing his brother to the high heavens.

Finally, Josh clapped his twin on the back and whispered, “Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”

He finally looked to the stage where she already stood, a sheepish smile evident across her mouth as she waited for him to make up his mind.

How did she know it was me?

He then looked around the bar, noticing many eyes on him and a hush falling upon the crowd in preparation.

Oh, idiot, she recognized your last name. She works with Sam.

Turning back to the stage, he saw that the drummer was seated behind her kit, and there was an older man picking up his upright bass that had been gently laying on its side, plucking the strings and tuning it ever so slightly.

Jake squeezed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh before opening them, bending over to grab his guitar case as he stood from his chair. Delighted applause erupted from the patrons of the bar, making him wince, and before he made his way over to the stage, he made it a point to menacingly tower over Sam who was still seated, grabbing the collar of his shirt and whispering a curt “We will talk about this later.”

He let go of Sam’s shirt with a little force, his brother laughing at him and cheering him on, knowing Jake’s threat was completely empty.

Jake had to take a few calming breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, just like Josh taught him. He stalked towards the small stage, knuckles surely white from how tightly he was gripping the handle of his guitar case. He was all too aware of the eyes on him; he was used to performing and others watching him do so, but he always performed solo and on his terms. This was new territory for him, and it had his nerves blazing.

Her eyes followed him as he climbed the couple of steps, and he met her gaze and gave her a shy smile as he passed behind her to the unoccupied side of the stage. He made quick work of unpacking, silently thanking his lucky stars that something had told him to bring his acoustic rather than electric. He plugged it into the amp that was sitting behind him, and continued to crouch with his back to the audience as he tuned his guitar quietly. Fortunately, those sitting out in the bar had begun to talk amongst themselves, effectively helping his nerves settle ever so slightly.

As he stood, he looked to the other musicians, nodding to the drummer as she sent him a sweet smile, and the bassist who gave him a jovial thumbs up. He could feel the corners of his mouth turn upwards as he finally faced her.

She was standing in front of the mic, neck turned to watch him make his way to the front of the stage, a grin still on her face but accompanied with an expectant, raised eyebrow.

Oh shit, that’s right. What are we going to play?

He paused once he reached the front of the stage, taking a moment to look between the musicians again, racking his brain as to what would fit their instrumentation best but better yet, what would do her voice justice.

A smirk found his lips as he settled on a suggestion, feeling much more confident now that he had an idea. Jake found his feet taking him to her without a second thought, closing the short space that distanced them. She turned her body towards him, welcoming him with a warm smile, eager to hear what he was going to offer.

Only once he was truly in her presence did his nerves take the reins again. Her beauty was evident when he observed her from the crowd, but seeing her this up close was something else. His heart hammered in his chest once more as he realized that he got to hear her sing again, and better yet, got to hear her voice sing along with him. He let go of the neck of his guitar, the strap snug across his back, and wiped his clammy hands against his faded jeans in a gesture that could only suggest how anxious he truly was.

Say something, damnit.

“Hi,” his voice cracked.

Shoot me now.

“Hey,” she chuckled out, thankfully not noting his aura of insecurity. She glanced to take a look at his guitar, his hands still resting on his thighs, and then brought her eyes to meet him again. He shifted his weight between his feet; why did she make him feel like a hormone-ridden teenager talking to a girl for the first time? His lips parted to speak again but was interrupted by her bringing her face closer to his, leaning to whisper in his ear,

“Seems like you have a song in mind.”

She retracted her head to stand upright before the mic stand once again, an expectant, but patient, look upon her face.

Jake cleared his throat before leaning in to softly say,

“Yeah, you know Lilac Wine?”

Her face flushed and she beamed an earth-stopping smile as she whispered back,

“Jeff Buckley or Nina Simone?”

“Can you play piano?”

She smirked and shook her head, “Not like Nina.”

He chuckled softly, “Me neither.”

“Jeff Buckely it is, then.”

He backed away from her, inclining his head in confirmation, before making his way back to the drummer, asking her if the song was to her liking and she nodded excitedly, switching her drumsticks out for a pair of brushes.

Y/n had gone over to the bassist, and he watched as the bassist put his hand on his chest, hopefully a sign of how much he loved the song. Jake looked between all the musicians, making his way back to his spot on the stage, saying loud enough just for the bassist to hear, “G Major.” The bassist winked, leaning his bass against his hip.

Jake watched as she made her way back to the front, only after exchanging a quick glance to her friend at the drums, the bassist, and then directing her stare to him. She gave him a slow nod, indicating that she was ready and waiting for Jake to begin.

He fixed his attention back front, and took a deep breath as the crowd hushed, watching with bated breath for the music to begin.

Jake inhaled deeply, exhaling as he strummed the one, solitary chord. And then he heard her voice.

“I lost myself on a cool, damp night,”

Jake heard a few whistles of exclamation from the crowd which caused a slight smile to form on his lips as he played the next, slow chord,

“I gave myself in that misty light,”

He couldn’t help but shift his position to face her, only to realize that she already watched him, her head turned just enough so she could still sing into the microphone.

“Was hypnotized by a strange delight,” she sang, a sultry smirk gracing her lips as the lyrics came out,

“Under a lilac tree.”

Jake watched her with rapt attention, knowing that it was his cues she was waiting for, and even though his heart was racing in his chest just by the fact that she was staring at him, he wouldn’t let that hinder his performance.

His strumming picked up as she sang the next couple lines, her voice seeming to rumble through the speakers as she sang the line before the chorus,

“Because, it brings me back you,”

Jake turned to the bassist and gave a cue, letting him know it was time for him to join even though he was sure he already knew that. The rhythm section set the perfect slow, sleepy tempo to paint the mood of the song, and Jake felt overjoyed to be in the company of such talented musicians. It had been a long time since he played with others, and he forgot how great it felt to collaborate.

The four musicians were feeding off of each other's energy, the song going off without a hitch considering he didn’t know them at all. He locked eyes with his mystery girl, y/n, he remembered, for the majority of the song, her voice tugging at his heart strings and filling the air with nearly palpable warmth. He knew the song would sit perfectly in her register, but he couldn’t have imagined how beautiful it truly sounded coming from her lips. Her voice would stay with him for a long time; he had never heard a voice quite as unique as hers.

He had to play with her again.

~~~~~~

The song finished all too quickly. Jake had completely forgotten about the audience he stood before, completely enthralled by her voice and the musicians he was playing alongside. Only until he heard Sam’s cheers cut through the applause was he brought back to the moment, focusing his gaze forward to the sea of clapping hands.

For once, he didn’t have to fake the smile that graced his face. In fact, he didn’t have to think about it at all. Jake was beaming, graciously nodding to the patrons of the bar before his eyes landed on his brothers, clapping excitedly and more obnoxiously than anybody else. It was Josh he lingered on though, his twin giving him a smile that seemed to absolve every insecurity, every heavy weight plaguing him. Before Jake knew it, he was placing his hand over his heart, hoping to convey the immense gratitude he had for his brother, Josh mirroring the action not a moment later.

Jake ripped his gaze away from his band of brothers and turned to the musicians he just played with, all of them eagerly meeting in the middle of the stage to congratulate each other on a job well done. The drummer, he learned, was named Caitlyn, and she gave him a celebratory firm whack on the back that made him chuckle. The bassist introduced himself as Max and instructed Jake to find him later so they could exchange information. “I can tell you’re a talented kid; it’s not very often I meet a guitarist who truly knows his guitar like the back of his hand,” Max had said, shaking Jake’s hand with a vice-like grip.

Jake turned to Y/n to say something, anything, but as he opened his mouth he heard the next band called out over the mic, effectively ushering them off stage. Her eyes twinkled, though, and she grasped his shoulder as she inclined her head over to the bar, silently asking him to meet her there. He gave her a shallow nod, not able to keep himself from smiling at her.

Jake scampered off stage, leaving Y/n to talk with her band as he went over to the table where his brothers sat, waiting for his return. Once Sam saw him approaching, he leapt up off his chair, bringing his brother into an excited embrace that Jake was not all too eager to reciprocate.

“Oh come onnnnn, you can’t still be mad at me! We all saw you up there!” Sam laughed out, still clutching Jake’s shoulders.

Jake rolled his eyes, once again not able to hide the smile that was on his face, “Watch me.”

Danny clapped for him from his seated position at the table, giving Jake the most genuine smile he’d received since his fight with him, saying “Brilliant, as always.” Jake shrugged it off, all too aware of the words that continued to be unspoken, but still feeling that this was not his opportunity to apologize. Finally, Josh stood from the table, placing a hand between Jake’s shoulder blades.

“I think you found it, brother.”

Glancing into Josh’s eyes, he felt all of the words his twin didn’t need to say out loud. All he could do was nod. He agreed; even though he was mere accompaniment, it hadn’t felt that good to play his guitar in a very long time. The feeling of adrenaline, of pride in his abilities, had been lost for months, and he forgot just how addicting the feeling of his calloused fingers against the steel strings could be. Maybe his passion was starting to come back, and it sent a pang to his heart to know that Josh had somehow seen that from the 10 minutes he spent on the stage.

Jake glanced over to the bar, seeing Y/n casually chatting with the bartender. Josh followed his gaze, dropping his hand away from his brother's back and returned to his seat. Jake took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he was going to say, not registering that he was already making his way over to the bar. In the distance, he heard Sam yell, “Jakey! She likes gin!” but all he could do was give his little brother a dismissive wave of his hand from over his shoulder.

He grinned to himself, logging away the bit of information. Don’t meet too many gin fans these days.

“So, Jacob,” she said, swirling her straw around the glass of her gin and tonic. His name tumbling from her lips felt like a bolt of lightning through his system.

His smile was bashful as he glanced down at his own drink, trying to keep his composure as he assured that she could call him ‘just Jake.’ Their conversation flowed effortlessly; he learned all about her band and the members within it, as well as how she could handle Sam as her boss. She asked him a multitude of questions, as well, but he couldn’t think about himself at the moment. Any chance he had to think about his own life sent his mind swirling in a downward spiral, so he would deflect the question back to her, genuinely interested in the words she had to say. He found out that she, too, was from the Midwest, both of them commiserating about the heat before he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Jake turned around to see an older man, probably in his 50s, standing behind him, a knowing smile on his face that immediately put Jake at ease.

“Jacob, right? I’m Robert,” he held out his hand, Jake quickly taking it into a handshake, his eyes wide.

Why the hell is the owner talking to me?

“I heard you play, you have a really great sound. You a solo musician?”

Jake flickered his eyes between Robert, Y/n, and then over to the table where his brothers sat, before responding, “Yeah, I mostly do solo shows,” he beamed, "It’s really nice to meet you, Robert. I’ve heard so much about this place, it’s great.”

Robert laughed as he thanked Jake, the older man asking a few more questions about Jake’s situation as Y/n sat and listened, a lopsided smirk on her lips.

“Well, Jacob, I’d love to have you regularly play at the bar. The crowd seemed to love your sound, as did I,” he said, pulling out a business card from his back pocket. “Please feel free to email me if you’re interested.”

Jake blinked a couple times before gently taking the card from Robert's hands. He heard about many great musicians passing through this bar; it was a family-owned place, ownership being passed down from generation to generation, helping artists get off the ground and into the spotlight. Jake met Robert’s eyes again, smiling from ear to ear as he shook the man's hand once more, thanking him and assuring him that he’d be hearing from Jake very soon.

Once Robert walked away, Y/n chimed in, “He’s a really good guy, but doesn’t interact with a lot of people much. From what I know, he hardly invites anyone to play here. You should count yourself lucky.” She winked at him, a smile evident on her face before bringing her straw to her lips.

“Your band plays here all the time, did Robert contact you guys?”

“Nope,” she shook her head, “he’s friends with Jen’s dad. Her dad called in a favor, got us our first gig here. Thankfully, everyone liked our music enough that we were invited back.”

Almost as if she were summoned, Jen called Y/n’s name from across the bar, beckoning her over and signifying that the band was heading out.

Y/n turned back to Jake with an apologetic look, “Looks like it’s my time.”

Jake gave a soft smile, glancing at his watch and realizing that already an hour had gone by, the open mic long abandoned. He flickered his eyes back up to hers, “When can I hear you sing again?”

He felt the air leave his lungs as he watched her blush at his words, but she regained her composure quickly before holding out her palm. She was so sure of herself, an air of confidence around her that he was envious of. If she had any insecurities, she would never let the world know.

“Can I have your phone?”

“Sure,” he fumbled around for it in his pocket, “what for?”

Her smile only grew at his oblivious question, “So I can give you my number. Maybe you can call me and ask when our next gig is,” she wiggled an eyebrow as she added her number to his contacts.

“There,” placing his phone back in his grasp, “don’t be a stranger.” In a gesture that was over before it began, she leaned in close and gave him a chaste peck on his cheek before sliding off her bar stool and making her way through the crowd.

He sat and watched her as she greeted her friends, completely dumbfounded. He’d lost track of how many times she had stolen his breath that night, and as he glanced down at his phone that lay waiting in his palm, he brought his other hand to faintly stroke where her lips had grazed his cheek.

Jake’s heart faltered.

Lilac.

To be continued....

taglist: @joopsworld @gold-mines-melting @shutupdevvie @indigostreakmorgan @sacredjake @malany-gvf @writingcold @mountain-in-springtime @anthemofgvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @songbirds-sweet @katelynn-gvf

#after two months it's finally here!!!!#jake kiszka #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #gvf #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #iz fics

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andydrysdalerogers · 7 months

Text

Yours Submissively ~ Innuendo

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Flirtation

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

My baby girl. Phil looks at her with tired eyes but a smile.

Be safe. A little blood trickles out of his mouth

No daddy, please don’t leave me.

I’m sorry

Dad please

You are special Belle. Trust him.

Who? Dad?

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Daddy!

Steve and Bucky ran into Isabella’s room when they heard her, her screams echoing for everyone to hear. Steve sees her thrashing in bed, screaming for her father. “Isabella? C’mon baby wake up.” He pulls her into his arms as Bucky goes to get her a water. “You can do it sweet pea, wake up for me.”

Belle feels the hands on her and she jerks away, opening her eyes wide. She looks at Steve and cries, burying her head into him. Steve strokes her hair as she continues to sob. “I’m sorry,” she hiccups.

“There is nothing to be sorry for, sweet pea. Steve pressed kisses to her head. “Are you ok? Do you want to talk about it?” He feels her shake her head. “Ok baby.” Bucky came back in with a water. “You want some water?”

Belle lifted her head and took the glass. She took a few sips. “Thank you, Bucky,” she whispered.

“Thanks Buck. I’ve got it.” Bucky nodded and headed out, taking one more look at the girl. He knew what her father looked like and was heartbroken. He looked like a good man.

Steve laid Belle back down with him and kept her in his arms. She listened to his heartbeat, calming her own against his. “I don’t dream as often anymore,” she whispered.

“About your dad?” She nodded. “It’s ok. I dream too. Bucky does as well.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I see him dying. Different ways. Falling. Being stabbed. Being pushed. It always ends with him being stabbed and blood coming from his mouth. I have the examiners report. I know that he was impaled in the back by something but I don’t know if it really was an accident or if someone killed him.” Steve wrapped his arms around her tighter. “I wish I knew.”

“Would you like me to find out? I still have contacts who could help?”

Belle shook her head. “It would just add fuel to them.”

“Ok. Sleep Belle, you’ll feel better in the morning. I’ll be right here.” Their breathing started to even out and the couple fell asleep.

After her midnight wake up, Sunday was quiet. Belle asked to go home early, still distant, the effects of her dream still haunting her. She needed to get ready for her big week. As Steve and Bucky dropped her off, a man got up from the stoop. Belle stopped. “Sweet pea, you ok?”

“Yeah, just… it’s Scott.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“I guess so.”

“Sweet pea if you don’t want to talk to him, Bucky will ask him to leave.”

“No, I’ll talk to him just… I just…”

“I’ll hold your hand sweet pea. I won’t say anything unless I need to.” Steve kissed her softly. “Promise.”

Belle nodded and Steve opened the door. Bucky came around with her bag and said, “I’ll meet you upstairs. Gotta see my best girl,” he said with a smile and a wink. As they slowly made their way to the building entrance, Steve could feel Belle tremble.

“I’m right here sweet pea,” he whispered.

She took a breath. They made it to the front. “Hello Scott.”

“Belle. Captain, I mean, Mr. Rogers.” Scott swallowed. “Could we talk Belle? Alone?”

“No. Anything you want to say you can say right now.”

“I just wanted to apologize again, for saying that stuff to you. I was upset that I lost my chance with you and I went about it the wrong way. It’s your life. So yeah. I’m sorry. To both of you.”

It took Steve everything not to punch this boy in the face. But he was trying to make amends with Belle and for that he was appreciative. Belle had a hard enough day so this could help.

“I understand and I will take that into consideration to forgive you. But,” Belle tilted her head, “I know you Scottie and you have something else you want to tell me.”

“I got transferred. To the Manhattan School.” He looked at Belle with a half-smile. “Their new 2nd grade teacher.”

“You’ll be at my school next year?” Belle frowned. This would make this harder. She felt Steve tense in her hand. She ran her thumb on his knuckles in order to comfort him.

“Yeah, Zolinski offered me the position Friday. I took it. I hope that’s ok.”

“Uh, yeah, of course Scott. It’s your career.” She forced a smile. “Congrats Scott. Umm, we have to go. I guess I’ll see you at graduation.”

“I guess so Ms. Valedictorian. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve nodded; jaw clenched. “Mr. Lang,” he muttered. Scott blanched and walked away, only looking back once.

“Steve, relax, please,” Belle pleaded as they went upstairs to her apartment. Belle opened the door to see Bucky and Lila tangled together. “Gross,” she whispered. Steve chuckled, drawing the attention of the couple. Lila stepped back as Bucky wiped his mouth.

“Sorry Belle. I thought that conversation with Scott would have taken longer,” Lila shrugged.

“It’s fine. I think that Steve just scared him off is all.” Belle smirked at Steve. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“He has eyes on my girl, I’m not sorry,” Steve whispered to Belle. She flushed. He smiled. “I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll email the details to you. Thank you for this weekend. It was… educational.” Belle bit her bottom lip, trying not to laugh.

“More than willing to offer more lessons, sweet pea. See you later.” He kissed her softly as Bucky opened the door for them to leave.

“Educational, huh?” Lila smirked at Belle. “Finally gave it up, didn’t you?”

“Not that its any of your business but yes. And Lila, it was amazing.” Belle flushed, not wanting to give any details. Her mind raced through her memories. While it wasn’t the first time, it was the first time for everything else.

“So he was careful, you were careful. Not going to have any little super soldiers?”

Belle thought back. Oh. That last time. She blanched and swayed. “Umm, I think I need to lie down.”

“Belle? Are you ok?” Lila grabbed her friend to steady her. “What happened?”

“I don’t think… I don’t remember if we… oh god…”

“It’s ok.” Lila held her friend. “It’s going to be ok. I can go get something right now, ok? Do you want to call Steve?”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, he was so worried and careful up until then. No.”

“Ok, give me ten minutes and I’ll be right back.” Lila grabbed her purse and left.

Belle sat on her bed, staring out. How could she have let this happen? Well, she couldn’t do anything about it. She was lost the moment Steve had clipped her hands onto the bar. And she couldn’t speak, even after the gag was out. She snapped out of her thoughts when Lila returned. She handed the box over with a glass of water. “Plan B. Take it and drink all of the water.” Belle swallowed the pill and then set a reminder on her phone to take a test.

“Maybe going on birth control would be better,” Lila said quietly, taking Belle’s hand.

“You’re probable right Li.” She picked up her phone again and made an appointment at the clinic for the next day.

The new few days flew by with all of the graduation prep happening. Belle barely had time to write her speech or go shopping for a dress. Thankfully, Steve had sent over a couple of the dresses for her that worked. Wednesday morning came and she got ready in a soft pink midi dress with a white cardigan. She did her makeup and left her long black hair down. Steve said he would have Bucky come and get her and Lila and he would arrive before the event since he had a meeting. Belle exited her room to see Lila in a dark blue dress. “You look nice.”

“Oh my god, my valedictorian is out and ready. You look so sweet Belle. Steve is going to die.”

“Hope not. He might be my baby daddy,” she joked but without a smile.

“You haven’t told him yet?”

“I don’t know how.”

“Just be honest. There is a 90% chance that you aren’t. But if you want an honest relationship with him, you have to be honest.”

“I know. I will. Just not right now ok.” There was a knock at the door. “You ready?”

“To celebrate you, always.” Lila smiled as she opened the door. “Hi babe!”

“Hey doll!” Bucky placed a swift kiss on her. “Hey Belle, ready?”

Yeah. She grabbed her purse and they headed out. The university was only a few miles away but it was a comfort to have Lila and Bucky walk in with her. She smiled when she saw Steve standing with another man at the entrance to the university club house. When Steve heard her approached, he smiled. “Hey sweet pea.” He kissed her softly. “How are you?”

“Nervous. Don’t like to be the center of attention.”

“Well, you look beautiful. I want to introduce you to someone. Clint?” The sandy blonde turned from talking with Bucky. “Clint Barton, this is Isabella Davis. Belle, Clint.”

“Its nice to meet you Mr. Barton. Thank you for your service.” Belle smiled.

Clint smiled back, enjoying how she addressed him as an equal, not an Avenger. “The pleasure is mine. I hope you don’t mind. Steve asked me to join you for your big luncheon.”

“Not at all. I had seven seats to fill, so you are just helping me out.”

“Well congratulation. A huge honor.”

Steve took Belle’s arm and guided her in and to the table. Several people stopped them to greet Steve. They made it to the table and sat, chatting while waiting for the ceremony to start. The three empty chairs made Belle uncomfortable until Pepper and Tony appeared. “Mr. and Mrs. Stark. What are you doing here?”

“We heard from the dean that you were being honored when I turned in your final paperwork and he invited me,” Tony explained. “He shook everyone’s hand. “Cap, Barton, Barnes, nice to see you here.”

Steve kept his arm around the back of Belle’s chair. “Nice to see you too Tony, Pepper.” Steve saw the look on Tony’s face and frowned. He never responded to Tony’s email over the weekend. Belle was his, screw whatever Tony wanted.

The luncheon went off without any issues, the dean making a nice speech about Belle and presenting her with her cords and medal for the ceremony. They took pictures and then lunch actually started. Steve got up to use the restroom towards the end, placing a swift kiss on Belle’s head. He was almost there when he heard foot steps. “What do you want Tony?”

“I asked you to leave her alone.” Tony crossed his arms.

“And I ignored your request. Why are you so against this? All of you have been saying I needed to get a life. To find someone to be in my life. Why can’t it be with her?”

“There are things you just don’t understand Rogers. It’s vital she remain anonymous and if she’s with you, that won’t remain that way.”

“Why? What is so fucking important about her that you aren’t telling me?”

“Fury asked me to keep this on a need to know. You don’t need to know. You just need to let her go.”

“No!” Steve clenched his fist. “I won’t let her go. I…” he stopped. He didn’t want to admit his feelings to anyone else before Belle.

“If her life is ruined you have no one to blame but yourself.” Tony walked away.

“Dammit!” Steve punched the wood wall, the oak splintering under his fist. Bucky would have more details. He could ask him. Then he stopped. No, I need to ask about her father. I need to ask permission. He decided to wait until after graduation so she could enjoy her day. He finished his business and went back to the table.

“Hey, Tony and Pepper just left. They said to tell you see you on Friday. I invited them to graduation.” Belle smiled up at Steve.

“Perfect sweet pea. Ready to head out?”

“Sure. Where are we going?”

“I have one more meeting and then we can go to dinner in the city.”

“Do I need to change?”

“No sweet pea, you are beautiful.”

The rest of week was just preparations for the big day. Belle got ready with her cap and gown hanging behind her door. She had an elegant black empire dress that fell to her knees for the ceremony and Lila helped to give soft curls. Lila’s father was taking them to the ceremony so Steve and Bucky would meet them after wards.

Belle reviewed her speech, fiddling with her earrings from Steve.

Lila reached over and took Belle’s hand. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re gonna be great.”

“Thank Lila.” But a tear slipped.

“It’s your dad, right?”

“Yeah, I just wish he was here.”

“I know hun. But he’s watching. I know he is.”

They walked to the back of the auditorium to line up for the entrance. Belle knew she would be seated on the stage with the rest of the honored staff and the deans. Once settled, her leg nervously jumped while she waited for her turn. She scanned the room but the bright lights made it impossible to see anyone in the crowd.

Steve sat with Bucky close to the front so he could see Belle. He had been busy the day prior making up for the time he was taking to be with her. He tried to let Tony’s comments go, but they floated in the back of his head, gnawing on his mind. It would be soon enough he could ask. He just wanted this weekend to be special for her. He looked at Belle on stage and he saw how nervous she was and sent a message, hoping she had her phone.

He watched as she looked at the message and smile.

SR: You look beautiful sweet pea. I’m right here. And I’m so proud of you.

It was what she needed. He knew. She got up there and made her speech about the future, full of promise, her voice strong. His girl. He clapped when she was presented her diploma and when Lila received hers. They made their way down to the reception area to meet up with the new graduates.

Belle found herself alone for just a moment when strong arms engulfed her. “You were wonderful, sweet pea,” Steve’s sexy voice whispered into her ear.

“Thank you, hot shot.” Steve pressed a kiss to her lips. They found the rest of her friends, their families offering congratulations to Belle. Steve kept his hand in hers the entire time. When Belle saw Tony and Pepper approach, she felt him let go. Her heart sank. Did Tony say something else to Steve?

Steve let go of Belle’s hand to shake the hand of the university president. He tried to return his hand, but she pulled away. He looked up to see Tony talking with her and he frowned. Did Tony say something else to her? “Isabella, may I speak to you a moment?”

Steve led them away from the group. “Belle, sweet pea, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Petulance coming though.

“It’s not nothing. You never pull away from me so I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”

“Why did you let go of my hand?”

Confusion crossed his face. “What?”

“You let go. You promised you would never let go. Is it because of Tony?”

“No, sweetheart.” Steve tried to control the anger bubbling under the surface.

“Then why?”

“I just had to greet someone. I swear Belle, this has nothing to do with Tony.”

“Then why are you acting strange around him? Its none of his concern what we do.”

“I agree. I told him as much. But don’t act like you haven’t been keeping secrets this week either.”

Belle chewed her lip. “I haven’t,” she lied.

“Then why won’t you talk about whatever is on your mind. Because I can see that there is something. You may be great at poker but not about lying.”

“You don’t have to worry about it.” Belle turned her face away from him.

“I worry about everything to do with you. Tell me.”

She looked back at him. “You first.”

“Isabella.” Steve’s voice was full of warning.

“No, you accuse me of having secrets then you admit yours first.”

Steve looked around. No one was around so he sighed and looked down for a moment. He looked back up and looked into her violet eyes. “Tony is insistent that we break this off. I told him no. I won’t leave you.”

“Why would you keep that a secret?”

“Because I was going to wait until after we celebrated your accomplishments to tell you. I have questions and I didn’t want to go behind your back.”

Belle nodded in understanding. “Well good to know that at least you are trying to honor my privacy.”

“That’s not fair. After the first time, I’ve tried. Hell, I’ve tried to make you as comfortable as possible.”

“I’ve noticed. We’re so comfortable that you forgot to put a condom on, and I had to get plan b.” Belle stopped and covered her mouth.

“What did you just say?”

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