#long road ahead chapter 8

[bubbiethesaur]

Chapters: 8/?

It’s chapter 8 time! Ahhhhhh!! 

A brief summary: There’s a long road ahead

Alternative Summary: Guess who’s here?

[lialacleaf]

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 3

Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 chapter4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Reader’s POV

You weren’t sure why Ghost had to drive you out to your new home. He’d been insistent on seeing you there safely rather than letting quite literally anyone else do so. In fact, he’d almost seemed jumpy, stating that Simon wouldn’t like strangers near his home, and that you ought to keep that in mind.

How you were supposed to feel like this was anything but an elaborate plot to murder you and scatter your remains in the woods was unfathomable to you, but Ghost trusted Simon. While you weren’t entirely sure where you stood with the Lieutenant, he’d been the only one to stay back with you and ensure you got out alive.

“When will he be home?” You asked as Ghost focused on the road ahead. He’d given no indication how far the drive would be, and you’d left base about forty minutes ago.

“Tomorrow,” Ghost answered plainly, giving no indication as to what Simon was doing that would have him preoccupied elsewhere.

You let out a soft hum and leaned back in your seat. The humvee would occasionally jostle you, and you hissed at the pain in your knee. The pain medicine was beginning to wear off, but you were too afraid to bring it to Ghost’s attention.

Instead, you closed your eyes, and focused on your next steps. You would need to get some new clothes, having little more than the clothes you’d been sent off in. Maybe if Simon wasn’t too opposed to taking you into town, you could visit the second-hand store.

When you were young, your mother used to take you to pick out patterned tablecloths that had been donated, and would take them home and see you little sundresses.

You recalled a white one with frills that you wore down to the neighbor’s strawberry field, and hadn't lasted the morning before it was an unfortunate mess of red strawberry juice and mud after you had burrowed beneath the strawberry patch and clawed the fruit off the vine like a little, white mouse taking refuge in the cool dirt.

Your mother had called you a little troll for your bad behavior, and made you wear the stained up dress to school anyway.

The Humvee jostled you again, knocking your knee against the vehicle, and you nearly choked on the breath of air you inhaled. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Ghost was anything but gentle, even in his driving.

Simon’s POV

He left you settled on his large, plush couch, your only bag on the floor by the door. The cabin was a single story, so he doubted you’d have much trouble maneuvering around as long as you had your crutches.

He’d given you his cell number, not that you knew it was his. You looked…lost as he walked out the door, and if he didn’t have work to finish for price before his leave, he’d have been tempted to tear the mask off his face and assure you that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone.

It was still hard for him to comprehend that he was now a married man, even if this had been entirely his plan. It didn’t occur to him until you were seated on his sofa, looking as if you felt out of place in your own home that he didn’t know what he was doing.

He had a rough idea of how he wanted things to be. You’d get to know Simon, a second chance for him to redeem himself in your eyes as someone more patient and gentle, and with time you’d forget about the harsh treatment of Lieutenant Ghost. He didn’t try to fool himself into believing that you could ever love Ghost, but maybe he could convince you to love Simon.

The hour drive back to base didn’t feel real. It was still early, and he needed a cup of tea, something he would have preferred to indulge in alone, but alas…

“How’s married life?” Soap asked with a poorly disguised grin, and Ghost glowered at him from the sink.

“Not now, Johnny,” he warned, rolling his eyes. He hadn’t necessarily wanted Soap to know, but he’d also wanted a second opinion on his decision to offer you a bloody marriage contract.

Johnny had thought he was pulling a joke, until he’d seen it with his own two eyes. Once Simon had rather stiffly explained that he had some very confusing feelings for you that wouldn’t allow him to abandon you, the Scotsman had patted him on the shoulder and told him he was a good man. A bloody mad one too, but that was besides the point.

“Difficult drive with the Mrs.?” He asked, that grin still ever present on his face.

“Something like that.” Not at all like that. More accurately he simply didn’t want to leave you there all alone.

“Cut her some slack, L.T., one minute your her boss, the next your her husband, probably a real doozy for the lass.”

“She doesn’t know,” he said softly as Johnny popped a biscuit in his mouth.

“Doesn’t know what?” He asked over the food in his mouth.

“Doesn’t know she married me.”

The Scottsman choked on his biscuit. “Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, wiping a palm across his face. “Ghost, you’ve gotta be yanking my leg here, mate!”

Ghost shook his head.

“Who does she think she married?” Johnny asked, eyes blown wide.

The Lieutenant shrugged. “Simon Riley.”

Johnny sputtered for a moment and shook his head. “That’s so wrong, Mate. She’s gonna be bloody pissed when she finds out-“

“She’s not gonna find out, Johnny,” Ghost hissed. “She’s gotta forget about all of that. Move on with her life.”

“People don’ just forget that kinda trauma, Simon. She nearly lost her leg,” Johnny said.

Simon sighed, pushing his mask up over his nose so he could sip his tea. “Let me worry about my wife, Johnny.”

It was six in the morning when Simon was finally relieved from his post. He found himself spacing out all too often on the road home, pulled out of his thoughts only when the asphalt turned to gravel.

He liked having his home so secluded. He hoped you liked it too. He’d stopped for groceries shortly after leaving base, planning on having breakfast ready before you woke up. He probably should have paid attention before to how you liked your eggs, but it was too late for that now. He’d just have to guess and go with it.

He pulled up to the cabin, the gravel beneath the car grumbling a greeting to his return as he slowed to a stop.

Simon took a deep breath, hooked his fingers beneath his balaclava, and pulled the mask off before stuffing it in his duffel bag. He unpacked the groceries, storing most of the meat in the deep freezer in his garage before finally entering his house.

He kicked off his work boots at the door, his eyes scanning over the room as if he expected things to be out of place. He paused, however when he noted your small form curled up right where he’d left you, your bag still by the door and your crutches against the wall. You were curled in on yourself, likely trying to keep warm as he’d forgotten to turn on the heat for you.

Shit. He’d left you alone for hours in a cold, unfamiliar place. You were supposed to have slept in the bed. He’d expected you to acclimate yourself over the past twenty-four hours, and instead you had curled up on the couch and succumbed to an uncomfortable sleep.

That wouldn’t do.

He moved to your side as quietly as possible, kneeling next to you on the tan rug. His palm gently brushed the side of your head as he watched you closely. “Y/n?” he murmured, his hand moving to squeeze your shoulder.

You gave no sign that you were awake, and Simon sighed, lifting you up as carefully as he could. Once you were properly tucked into bed, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

His shoulders sagged, and with a soft groan he leaned back into the mattress, only just now noticing that he only had one pillow and you were using it. Not that he minded. He needed to take stock of just how unprepared he was for this endeavor.

He switched between staring at the ceiling, and staring at you. You didn’t move much in your sleep, which was a relief. You did, however, let out a soft whine, alerting him to the fact that he’d rested you on the side of your bad knee.

He frowned, internally scolding himself for not thinking of it sooner. It was easy to roll you onto your back, but the action caused you to stir, and Simon stiffened.

~

It must have been early when you woke, because the room was bathed in a soft glow from the sun barely rising outside the window.

It took you only a moment to realize you no longer dozing on the couch. Your eyes settled on the massive figure beside you, traveling up his waist to his chest and shoulders, before finally finding his face.

Simon, or rather you assumed it was Simon, had ruffled blonde hair, with deep set brown eyes and a strong jaw. Handsome for a soldier. You’d expected him to be plain. You were very wrong.

You sat up slowly, and he watched you like a hawk. You expected him to greet you with something, anything, even if it was just snapping at you for crawling into his bed, not that you remembered doing so. Instead he simply stared at you.

“What time is it?” you asked softly, your voice hoarse from sleep.

“Almost eight,” he murmured, and you blinked in surprise. He had an English accent, very mancunian, just like Ghost’s. The similarity was actually rather uncanny. “You can go back to sleep, or I can make breakfast.”

This felt very strange. You were in a stranger’s house, in their bed and said stranger was offering to make you breakfast as if you weren’t an intruder. You felt tears prick your eyes, suddenly feeling very out of place.

Simon’s brow dipped, a look of panic crossing his face as he tried to figure out what he’d done this time as tears spilled from your eyes.

“Y/n?” He asked, a shaking hand brushing your hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry, this is just…really overwhelming-“

Simon was quick to pull you against his chest, pulling a soft gasp from you.

“You’re safe, I promise. M’ not gonna let anything happen to ya,” he murmured, those deep brown eyes gazing at you as if he’d loved you for a lifetime.

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his response, your body slumping as your head dropped onto his heavily muscled shoulder.

“Why…why are you doing this for me?” You whispered.

“You made a sacrifice for one of my mates. You could have gotten killed. He felt responsible, wanted to see you taken care of, and…I wanted to help,” he said gently, stroking the back of your head.

You sniffled softly. “Is Ghost important to you?” You asked, gazing up at him curiously. Simon stiffened, unable to hold your gaze.

“Let’s leave the topic of Ghost alone for now, yeah? Give you some time to recover from what happened.”

You tilted your head at him in confusion, but nodded in agreement. It was his house after all. If he didn’t want to bring up work then so be it.

“You’re in good hands here, I promise.”

~

Two weeks went by, and you found that it wasn’t as difficult to adjust to Simon’s presence as you expected. He worked on base twice a week when he wasn’t on mission, and spent the rest of his time caring for you.

You couldn’t help but feel like a pet that was being spoiled more than it deserved. He’d bought you one of those nice, memory foam pillows, despite your insistence that you could just sleep on his large, plushy couch.

Truthfully you were a little frightened at the idea of sharing his bed, but he kept a respectful distance away from you, and there wasn’t even the mention of sexual expectations.

He slept on his back, or facing the door, something you assumed was an ingrained behavior.

He let you sleep in the mornings, but once you’d had breakfast he was practically dragging you out of the cabin to take a walk with your crutches, encouraging you not to stay in bed all day.

You supposed it was a good thing, as you’d likely become depressed if left to your own devices. He took you to town only once to find some new clothes, and gave you a very displeased look when you tried to insist on the thrift shop rather than the department store he pulled the truck up to.

“No wife of mine is walking around in a stranger’s hand-me-downs”

With that, he’d helped you inside and gotten you an array of loose pants and comfortable tops to spend your recovery in.

He was certainly committed to his promise of taking care of you.

He didn’t talk much, and you still found that a little unsettling, but his lack of words was matched by his aptitude for actions, making sure you didn’t so much as lift a finger unless you adamantly wanted to.

You hadn’t told your parents about the arrangement, and had been worrying just how you were going to go about keeping the situation on the down low. They’d call eventually, and you had to think of something to keep them from going into a panic.

You watched Simon from the corner of your eye as he started the truck, having helped you into your seat and gotten you buckled moments ago.

You weren’t sure if he was anxious about your check up, or if he was simply displeased at the thought of having you back on base. He seemed to dislike the idea very much if his hesitancy to bring you back to Dr. Radcliffe was anything to go by, but the doctor had insisted on it as he was the one to handle your knee surgery to begin with.

“Simon?” You called as the gravel road disappeared and gave way to paved asphalt. “Do you think Ghost will be available today? I never got to thank him for everything,” you said softly.

Simon tensed, and you couldn’t help but frown a little. “I’ll ask him,” he assured you, taking your hand in his and giving it a light squeeze.

A smile lit up your face, the first one he’d seen since the ordeal at the warehouse, and his heart aches for it. “Thank you, Simon.”

He nodded in response, but his stomach was in knots. He didn’t deserve your thanks. Not as Ghost, and not as Simon. Maybe someday, when you had forgotten all about what had happened to you, and lived a carefree life. Maybe then he could deserve it.

~

“I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely pleased with the results so far,” Dr. Radcliffe said as he looked over your x-rays.

“What does that mean?” Simon asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is it bad?” You asked as you sat on the paper covered table.

“It means unless we get you set up with a physical therapist you’ll be on those crutches for the rest of your life.” The doctor explained.

Your eyes widened, and you were about to exclaim that you couldn’t possibly afford that when Simon cut in.

“What are her chances with the physical therapy?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Slim, but better. Might have a limp, but definitely more mobility.” Radcliffe assured him.

“I can’t afford Physical Therapy,” you cut in, and the two men glanced down at you.

“Yes, we can,” Simon said gently, brushing your hair behind your ear. You simply gaped at him in astonishment. PT was expensive, especially for such an involved injury. You couldn’t expect him to pay for that, but the warning glance he sent your way said that the two of you would not be discussing it now.

“I’ll send out a recommendation for the practitioner closest to you.” Radcliffe said. “However I’d still like to see you back here a month from now.” You nodded, and Simon ‘tisked’ in response.

Thanks, doc,” you said, offering him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

~

Simon left you to your lunch in the mess hall with the excuse that he had some paperwork to do, and you didn’t question him once he set a burger in front of you. He was quickly finding that a good meal was all he needed to keep you in a good mood.

He felt ridiculous, slipping into his office and shucking off his civilian clothes in exchange for his uniform and mask, before turning around and thundering back to the mess hall.

He didn’t plan on this double-life mess, but he was going to put an end to it. His eyes landed on your little form happily munching away on your lunch, and he let out a deep sigh, clearing his throat as he approached you.

“Ghost?” You looked up in surprise, wiping the condiments off the corner of your mouth on a napkin. He always saw you use your shirt sleeve, and he felt a swell of pride that you liked the little green sweater he’d gotten you enough to preserve its newness.

“Simon said you wanted to see me?” He asked gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded vigorously. “I wanted to thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise-“

“This is what you called me down here for?” He asked, and your face fell. He felt the absence of your smile as an ache in his chest.

“I…I just thought…you’d want to know that I’m safe,” you said.

Simon felt his heart swell at the words. It was a relief to hear you say it, and it made what he was about to do even harder.

“One less thing to worry about then,” he stated grumpily, turning on his heel with a roll of his eyes and leaving you to gape at his back.

~

He felt like a kid in a play, switching costumes depending on his role in the moment. Price raised a brow when Simon passed his door four separate times in two different outfits.

He could have sworn he heard Johnny mutter “you don’t want to know.” To his captain. They were going to give him hell for this.

He was nearing the mess hall when his phone chimed the very specific sound he’d set for you, and was quick to open his messages.

I want to go home.

He wasn’t sure if he should be glad you viewed the cabin as home, or worried about the damage control he was going to have to do.

He entered the mess hall, preparing himself for whatever state of disarray you’d be in, only you weren’t there. His head whipped around the room, looking for any sight of you, but you had seemingly vanished.

Shit.

Where are you?

He rushed out of the mess hall, looking for any sign of your presence. He didn’t see your crutches, so he could only assume you’d left on your own.

I’m in the truck.

He let out a breath of relief, pulling the keys from his pocket. He probably would have put the whole base on lockdown if you hadn’t replied.

He made quick strides to the parking lot, opening the door to the driver's seat and hauling himself in as quickly as possible.

“Everything alright?” He knew it wasn’t, but it felt polite to ask anyway.

“M’ fine,” you mumbled, leaning your head against the door.

Simon bit his lip as he watched you wilt. You looked as if the life had been sapped out of you. Maybe he’d been too harsh.

“Y/n?” He called, placing a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t acknowledge it and he sighed. “Let’s go home,” he mumbled.

You were silent the entire drive back, and Simon was genuinely starting to question if he’d broken you. You had just gotten some rather bleak news.

“We could stop at that bakery in town,” he offered, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

“I’m not really in the mood.”

Simon pursed his lips, his brow ticking slightly. He was trying to make things better, why were you fighting against him? Ghost was supposed to be the villain here, not him.

Your mood only seemed to worsen as the day went on, and Simon couldn’t wrap his head around it. At least until you snapped.

“Can I please just do one thing for myself!”

He’d just wanted to take up your dinner, shooing you out of the kitchen so he could do so when you decided you’d had enough.

“You do everything for me. I’m not a child, I’m a grown woman! For fuck’s sake it’s like I’m a prisoner or something!”

Your tirade was followed by a pathetic hobble down the hallway and slam of the bathroom door. He was fairly certain he heard muffled sobs before the tub faucet was turned on to drown them out.

Simon crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter with a frown. You weren’t just upset about Ghost, he realized. You were upset about your leg, about the feeling of losing your autonomy, and his dismissal of you in the mess hall had been the proverbial cherry on top.

You had said you felt safe, but what you really felt was stifled.

He let out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair. It seemed while keeping you in bubble wrap suited him just fine, it was slowly eating away at you.

This wasn’t what he had wanted for you. He’d wanted you to be able to do things that made you happy, not be stuck doing nothing at all.

You may have been small, and fragile compared to Ghost, but you had still been a soldier, and it was something you took pride in. He hadn’t meant for you to lose purpose, but if you were really going to be happy here, he needed to help you find a new one.

~

You felt terrible. You shouldn’t have snapped at Simon. You should have just calmly explained that you needed him to give you some space, but after Ghost had reminded you just how useless, how much of a burden he saw you as, it had triggered the rage that had been building in you for a while now.

None of this was fair. You had done your job well, despite being at a higher risk, you’d put the well being of your teammates above yourself to the very end, and your mind was still just as sharp.

Despite all this, it seemed both Ghost and Simon thought you were useless. The difference was Simon didn’t seem to tack worthless onto the list of things you were as well.

You didn’t feel right sleeping in his bed that night, or taking advantage of any of the kindnesses he’d given you for that matter. You were tempted to go sleep outside but it was freezing. Instead you curled up under a blanket with one of Simon’s chess books and read until you fell asleep.

At some point you heard him get up and put on a kettle for tea, before venturing out through the back door. You pretended to still be asleep if only to avoid the impending confrontation.

You eventually heard the telltale sound of a saw in his work shed, and supposed the coast was clear to make a cup of tea.

You went back to reading your book, not sure what else to do, until Simon’s footsteps sounded on the back porch, followed by the door opening. You tried not to stiffen when he stopped right in front of you. Maybe he’d been out there making the coffin he was going to bury you in for being an ungrateful little-

“Could use a hand if you’re not busy.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. “With what?” You asked skeptically.

He held out a hand to you, a gentle smile spreading on his face. “You’ll see.”

He walked slowly, acting as a crutch so you wouldn’t need to get them out of the kitchen. He led you to a portion of the yard that had been sectioned off with wooden planks. There was a chair seated beside it, along with a small shovel and a rake.

“What’s this?” You asked as he helped lower you into your seat.

“Garden box. Gonna start growing stuff,” he explained. “Fresh tea is good for you, especially in the colder months.”

He pulled a pair of gloves on and handed you a slightly smaller pair, along with the handheld shovel. “You can start pullin’ dirt out of those bags and droppin’ it in here,” ge explained.

“Wouldn’t this go faster if you just dumped these in yourself?” You asked as he picked up the rake.

Simon shook his head. “You could use some fresh air, and you might as well accomplish somethin’ instead of sittin’ like a bump on a log.”

You could tell he was excited about his little task by the way his accent got thicker, and you had to admit it was a little cute.

“Fair enough,” you murmured, shoveling dirt into the box for him to spread out with the rake. It was a little mindless, but the sound of the birds was nice, and the sun slowly rising in the sky casted a warm glow on your face.

Once you’d emptied two bags of dirt Simon went inside to grab you both a bottle of water before planting the seeds. He handed you the bottle, and a little packet of electrolyte mix, but he didn’t mix it for you, and instead went about opening the little seed packets after having downed his own water.

You had to admit that Simon was quite the sight in that tight gray shirt with a shovel in his hands. You bet he looked even better with a rifle.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” you murmured as he passed you a small packet of seeds. Simon paused, looking up at you in surprise, before nodding at you.

“I…I’m sorry that I wasn’t paying attention before,” he began, taking a step towards you and cupping your cheek with his large hand. “I see you now,” he murmured softly, bending down to place a kiss on your forehead.

You let out a sigh of relief, leaning against him as your arms wrapped around his middle. “Thank you, Simon,” you whispered as he returned your embrace.

AN: wow this ended up being long~ Lots of drama to come!!!

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[neonovember]

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

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Bucky is quiet the ride over, dark steel greys surveying the road eagerly, like he was waiting for someone, or something to give him a reason to jump out and spill blood. 

The wheel wains in his grip, and his dark hair falls over in waves, pushed back behind his ears and smelling of pine nut and mint. There's a hint of a smile on his face, he knows you're watching him.

You avert your gaze quickly, looking towards the mountain trees on either side of the asphalt road ahead.

The relief you had thought would fill you as Bucky pulls into the potholed road of your apartment is blank, and your chest fills vacant without the heat of it. Your mind is restless, and the entire ride over had given you ample time to think over everything that had happened earlier. 

You had folded and unfolded every piece of information Bucky had told you about Steve and all it had done was make you feel like you were intruding, like you were given privy to something you had no right knowing. Like peeking through the cracks under closed doors as a child listening in on their parents.

Where your street had once been busy with loitering huddles of gaunt faced men, a quiet murmur settles over the ground floor of your apartment complex, all the way up to the hallway to your place. 

And as you pass by a few stragglers who blanch when Bucky shifts his hard gaze towards them, stuttering over their own feet and rushing back to their alleyways, you have an inclination that it was all Steves doing.

His reach was absolute.

You didn’t know what to feel, you’ve known displacement for too long. 

Separating from your betrothed, separated from the life you had been half folded into, separating from the very syllabus of your name. 

The spaces between the letters get further and further as the years go by. Until you can hardly remember if your namesake is really yours, just a frightening sound that came out of your husband's mouth.

This is different though. Until now, your instinct has always been right. And yet, when you think of Steve? When you try to find footing in your gut it comes up wobbly and unsure.

Was he something more than he let on? Did he only uncover pieces of himself for his own benefit? 

Bucky had told you he had lost his own wife, and young too. Forced to be exposed to the brutality of the world before he could even get a chance to indulge in youthful recklessness. 

You feel a sense of empathy for him, but also, also surprise. It isn’t the murder, or your own husbands doing that causes a slight slip of your heart. The truth is much more foolish instead.

There was a time Steve was ready to forsake this entire life, live forever looking over his shoulder, turn back on tradition that was as deep as marrow, all for love.

You could laugh if you had remembered what that felt like. The thought outright unnerves you. Steve? The gluttonous leader who held sanctions of New York with an iron fist? 

It drives a pit in your stomach when you think too hard about what it means. 

There’s a fiery jealousy that swarms you, you had never understood the wielding power that love carried all your life. It was a feeling, just like any other was it not? 

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

And all that swarms your mind is how it’s so unfair, that you’ve never experienced such a thing. That you may never will. Forced to succumb to the life that was only half yours, down a path so far the ground had changed beneath you.

What did it feel like to give in? To show all your misgivings with unabashed apprehension? To let yourself, all of it, to another person?

Anything close to a love like that had come from the faded memories of your father, his warmth and deep gritted protectiveness over you. And that had been stripped from you quicker that you were able to forsake it.

You suppose that wasn't meant to be dealt in your cards, which you had come to understand were drawn years ago. You lie to yourself, but during some nights the aching desire to feel something, to taste the deep gripping love that had caused even Steve to lose focus explodes deep in your gut. 

Your longing for connection was something you hid well, and god didn’t you get awfully good at hiding these years? Fit yourself in nooks and crannies that were too small, smoothed out your jagged edges to click into the puzzle pieces.

And yet, the empathy you had silently shared, the intimate conversation you had had with Steve in your mind is stamped out with swiftness as Bucky walks you to your door.

That was then, now Steve had made it perfectly clear where he stood. The cool indifference and hardening this life caused had stolen any shine or hope that Steve may have held those years ago. Everything he did now was calculated, for the betterment of broadening his kingdom. 

He might as well have died along with her.

Bucky leans against the hallway, eyes surveying the decrepit halls lit by overexerted linoleum lights. You hesitate a moment, before popping your keys into your door, twisting it this way and that to get it to open.

You flinched as the door opened wide, almost like you were expecting someone to be standing right behind it, waiting for your arrival before pouncing. You’re a child, waiting for the ghoul in the closet to jump out.

Yet all that is there is the same peeling walls of your small entryway and some shoes and a coat strewn to the side in your haste to get to the diner early those days before. 

You’d much prefer the monster.

Days, it had only been days, so why did it feel like a lifetime since you stepped foot into your home? 

You don’t know what you were expecting, for your apartment to change when you had been kept away from it unceremoniously? For someone to have cleaned out the dishes lying in the sink, and ruffle the pillows lying on your old sofa? 

You had craved mundanity for so long, craved consistently at a time where you didn’t know which face of your husband you would meet those days. 

When the monster living underneath your husband's skin would jump out.

But now, you crave something more. It simmers right under your skin, deep within your chest and its shadowy fingers flutter over every inch of you.

Your apprehension is evident by the way Bucky shifts his way towards you stuttering frame.

“Hey, I wouldn't be so keen on coming home to this place either. Those carpets don’t look that inviting" Bucky replies, there is a sight lilt in his voice as he drags his eyes across your depressing furnishing.

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

“Not everyone lives in an exorbitant palace you know” You gruffly reply, shuffling into your door in a way that was more spite than eagerness.

Bucky breaks out in a grin that takes up half his face, his hand stuffed into his suit pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

“Talking like a woman who hasn’t done just that half her life” Bucky replies, cocking his head to the side.

Oh right, your husband's estate that took up half of the city. One that was never, and would never be in your name.

You drop your handbag onto one of the hooks attached to the hallway, turning towards Bucky with a sigh.

“That’s different” You reply evenly

“Oh yeah? How so?” Bucky murmurs, eyes shining with a smile

“I was never welcomed in that home- house. God it would never be a home no matter how many architects and designers dressed it up. You think I escaped ‘cause it was my safe haven?” You cock your head to the side and Bucky’s face evens out. The smile adorning his features morphs back into his face as a look passes through his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that with Steve-”

“Oh yeah? Because he is the most upfront person to talk to. Right. This place, as depressing as it looks, is solely mine. It’s the only thing I have on this goddamn earth that hasn't been mauled and changed with my husband's fingers. Or the life he leads. You might not understand it, how important that is but-”

“I do. Trust me” Bucky replies, cutting you with and he offers you a nod that was more understanding than half the world's he promised to you.

Can I? You wonder thoughtfully. Was this just a part of some elaborate plan that Rumlow had clued you on? You were everywhere all at once, topsy turvy and turned inside out. This was the life you had to live now.

“Good” You say instead, wringing your fingers as Bucky’s phone begins to buzz from his pants pocket.

You wait for him to reach for it immediately, but he doesn't, just remains quiet as he taps his foot against the hardwood floor. There seemed to be a look of understanding that passed between you when he had racked his fist against the wall adjacent to your door. 

The blues of his eyes twinkled under the sun peeking through the hallway window, and you didn’t realize it then but it was trust that shined in his eyes. Like the words he had shared with you warranted the same secrecy he held with the other men he worked with. 

You had paid in flesh and blood for your silence, what more was another pound?

The ring runs through, and the silence soon returns between you both.

“I’m not going to the mouth off to half of Brooklyn that their most influential business man likes painting” You reply with a murmur, eyes darting left and right as if neighbors were listening in. Enough of them had watched you walk to your apartment door, eyes strained on Bucky and his shoes that shine too bright. Faces that had never even said hello had craned their necks as you passed, of course. Whispers of inquisition under their breath.

“I know you won’t” Bucky replies instantly. “Just- let him explain the rest of it, yeah? ‘S only fair you hear it from him” 

“Fair?” You raise your eyebrows, “You’re talking about fairness now? Bullshit. If you were guided by some moral compass I wouldn't have been forced into this, you wouldn't even be in this life” You snark unconsciously.

Where does this all come from? You hadn't even raised an eyebrow at your husband, and now you were bad mouthing a man with a gun poking through his waistband. You look down, staring at the unusual stain in the hallway carpet you never quite knew what was. The anxiety and timidness you were used to coming back tenfold.

Bucky doesn't retaliate, just looks towards you with a feather-like smirk.

“I was wrong about you, y’know?” Bucky whispers, leaning in as if he were divulging in a secret he couldn't let be spoken in the open air.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re everything like Steve.” Bucky replies thoughtfully, a far away look taking over his dark features. 

He’s miles away, reminiscing about parts of Steve that had been left in the dark. He looks younger than, when you notice the way his eyebrows scrunch and his locks fall flat over his face. 

But it's enveloped back into Bucky in a second, a sad smile replacing his grin.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call” 

Giving you one last nod, he turns back towards the hallway entrance and it takes you a few moments before you realise.

“But I don't have your number!” You call out, leaning out your door

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

“You sure about that?” A raise of his eyebrows at the ping of your phone, waving you with two fingers.

You don't have to pull it out to know it's him. And you can't help but let out a chuckle before turning back and shutting the door firmly.

You find yourself accompanying your time scrubbing down the floorboard and yellowed walls of your home, filling your hours since Bucky had left with meager tasks. It helps you think, concentrating on little chores around the house so you don't have to think about the thoughts that rattled loudly in your mind.

It’s still well into the morning, and as the sun filters through your drapes you lean back on your heels nodding accomplished at the glint of the shining floors. The walls were an impassive yellow, never yielding no matter what cleaning products you threw at them, but beyond the old entryway carpet the apartment was lined with pristine hardwood floors that shined with a little elbow grease.

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

Wiping the sweat that had grown increasingly uncomfortable above your brow, you make way to your small enclosed kitchenette, swiping a cup from the drying rack before you watch the water fill to its glass edge. You gulp half of it down, before your much needed break is interrupted by the faint buzzing of your phone emitted from somewhere in the living room.

You forage for it quickly, searching till you find it wedged between the cracks of your couch. You pause for a moment, considering whether it might be Bucky, or Steve calling but as you see the vibrating screen of your manager's face you slide the receiver across the screen.

You brace yourself for the inevitable screech of her voice, you haven't been to work in days, an irregular for you considering the mountain of bills that left your bank account squandered each month. You needed this job, and now Steve hand upended your life, you fear it’ll slip through your fingers.

Manager calls, you pick up, she’s very quiet and apprehensive and is all sweet in a a way you remember she never had been before. She’s almost scared to talk to you, asking about a shift you could cover and you say yea without thinking. You need a distraction. Even if Steve had made it clear you no longer needed to worry about work.

“Hello?” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the beat of silence that fills the space usually used up by ** loud un yielding demands.

“Y/N? Hey, how are you doing” Replies carefully, as if choosing her words.

“What?” You blurt out

You can’t help the confusion that puzzles your voice, who was this person? In the months you had spent working at that dead end job not once has she ever asked how you were. Not when you had spent half your break with your head in your toilet the first few months you had escaped. A cat on edge, nerves frazzled by even the slightest heavy stamp of a dress shoe.

What had changed?

You don’t have to kid yourself, you know the answer deep down. Him, it always goddamn is.

“Sorry, uhm I’m been doing good” You reply “I apologise for kind of just disappearing on you and the Diner”

“Oh that? That’s totally fine, once your friends cleared that up” 8 gulped, the sharp exhale of breath filling the receiver at the mention of this friend of yours.

“Friend?” You reply

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your doing alright. Uh-, so uhm ’s sister dropped her kids off at 4am last night at hers, she cant her shift. And * got SAT prep. Can you fill in if possible it’s totally okay if you can’t, I needed to stay back a few anyway-”

“Sure” 

You needed the distraction, you felt stifled in the walls of your apartment. It wasn’t meant to be a prison, and yet the only time you felt truly free now was when you slammed the door behind you.

“-oh, Oh thank you! Thank you so much. If you could come in at 12, it’s just the afternoon shift. And if you need to leave for whatever reason it’s totally fine you don’t even have to tell me-“

“Mare?

“Yes?”

“Relax. I miss the diner and it’s crappy linoleum lights anyways”

Mare snorts into the receiver “The teams missing you too”

After passing a few more instructions on the wave of Russian tourists coming through Brooklyn this time of year you let your phone clatter onto the coffee table.

Sure, your manager could be a pain in the ass but being passive aggressive didn’t warrant a mob leader holding you at gunpoint.

You wonder what Steve had said to her to cause her to be this shaken up, she was the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met. It couldn’t have been easy to have her yield, at least not without some sort of real threat.

Especially in New York.

You rifle through your bag before grabbing your work uniform. The musty smell of old oil and grease makes you throw it haphazardly into the laundry basket before reaching for a clean shirt.

You try to look presentable, washing your face with the bathroom tap that never not juts out cold water. You avoid your reflection when you pay your face dry, which is interestingly enough, hard to do since it’s well..your face.

Drawing the wisps of coils that spring free you pull your hair back into a bun. You don’t bother with makeup, it never quite sat right on your face when you did it. Reaching for your bag and throwing your phone and the rest of your miscellaneous, you hurry down the steps of your apartment complex. 

Popping in your earphones as you step into the train carriage, you memorise the dock and pull of the train ride till you feel your stop. Your music swims through your veins, and you breathe it in before opening your eyes to the tram doors opening.

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) I ch. VII

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,656

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), cute date on the back of jk's car trunk, jk nervous, jk gives lots of gifts & flowers to oc, oc is obsessed with clearance chocolate, auntie oc and uncle kook take care of yoongi's twins, jk & oc become guinea pigs for yoongi's kids lmao, mention of dentist!yoongi, jk's mommy issues get mentioned, jk has personal daddy issues but he working through them, jk being good hubby to oc, just a rollercoaster of emotions ngl

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: Hello! thanks for being patient with me guys!! Important: the flashback for this chapter follows events of chapter V and will refer to it. And yes it's thier first date! Kind of 👀👀 that will be for you to decide. Then we have present day jk and oc being guinea pigs for Yoongi's crazy twins hehehe. Ok pls, enjoy 💞

<< ch. VI ༓ ch. VIII >> ┃series masterlist

You know how some couples have multiple weddings that lead to disagreements over their real anniversary date? Or maybe it’ll be when the relationship was made official or what the first sign of attraction was? Yeah, that’s you and Jungkook when it comes to pinpointing exactly when your first date was.

If you ask your husband, he’ll tell you it was weeks after you were discharged from the hospital during your postgrad studies. But in your opinion, it was far before his timeframe.

You see due to a group of overly eager college freshmen, you had sprained your ankle and cracked a rib. Jungkook stayed with you the entire first two weeks of the recovery period. He'd bring study notes to you, your favorite food, hell even art supplies he bummed off Taehyung to help break up your mundane days in the hospital.

When the time finally came that you were well enough to finish the healing process at home, he suggested a dinner out would be an excellent way to celebrate.

"...do you wanna go out to dinner?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected.

"Are you asking me on a date…?"

His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well…let's go with hang out like friends do."

You’re convinced that this was the first time he asked you out, thus leading to your first date. Your husband, however, thinks it was too vague to tell. He prefers to see it as more a pre-date instead.

So, was it a date?

Was it an unspoken pre-date?

The jury’s still out about this one.

4 years ago

It’s a gorgeous day with the way the sun beams on the hood of his car. A few scattered clouds, fluffy and white, float across the sky as well, offering shelter from the heat. You were discharged from the hospital only yesterday and Jungkook was already insistent on going out today, saying that a little fresh air and a change of scenery would be good for you.

“Where are we going?” You turn your head from the passenger window to look at the man inquisitively. It’s a simple question but the tension of the unknown nibbles at you from inside.

“One of my favorite spots,” Jungkook replies with his eyes set on the road. “Hope you don’t mind the drive. It’ll be another fifteen minutes.”

“It's fine. Why can’t I know where we’re going though?”

He hesitates to answer. “Do you not like surprises?”

You shrug. “Sure I do, as long as I know about them ahead of time.”

A hearty laugh follows your words and it sends one of the warmest feelings through your whole body. You didn't think you were being funny, but after being stuck in the hospital for two weeks, it's nice to feel something other than dismal. Jungkook is good at lifting your spirits at the most unexpected of times, you hum to yourself.

He looks handsome today too.

You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it as you watch a few strands of his dark hair blow over. He has his window cracked to let in a gentle breeze and though it causes him trouble here and there, he remains mostly unbothered.

The oversized white T-shirt he chose to wear is something you're still taking time to adjust to. Much more casual compared to what he wears during his lectures. But you like it with the loose-fitting pants he's paired it with.

"If it's necessary for you to know where we're going then I guess I have no choice." Jungkook looks in your direction but your gaze lingers down his torso. "__."

"Yes?" You immediately blink up at him, hoping you don’t look too flushed. Once he directs his attention back to the road you'll make sure to check yourself in the side-view mirror. Using your phone camera might look a little too obvious.

"I was saying if you need to know where we're going I'll tell you," he repeats. "But if it's possible I'd really like for it to be a secret until we get there."

"Alright," you concede. "I guess I could stand the wait this one time. This is your only freebie though. No more surprises after this."

"No more checking me out," he mutters.

"What?"

"Nothing."

.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"No." Jungkook opens his door and hops out of the car. "I'll be right back."

"Wait where are you going?" You know he wants whatever this is to be a surprise but you've been told to keep your eyes shut for the last five minutes. You're a little nervous to say the least, especially if he's about to disappear somewhere. "Jungkook?"

No response.

"Hello? Jungkook?" You're tempted to open your eyes when you hear the trunk of his car suddenly pop open. Several rustling noises follow as he digs around. "What are you doing back there?"

"You'll see soon. I'm almost done so just sit tight for a moment." He unzips a bag and then pushes said bag around the floorboard. The sound of something crashing on the ground perks up your ears in the moments following, earning a tiny 'shit' from Jungkook.

"Everything alright?" You're seriously getting antsy now.

When Jungkook swings your door open, a cool breeze hits your legs. "All good __. But now, I'm going to need you to trust me because I'm going to help you out of the car."

What?

"Um, I do have crutches I can use you know. You don't have to carry me anywhere like before. Dr. Kim said I should–"

"You won't need them this time. We're not going far okay?" He ducks his head inside and guides your arms around his neck. "Can you scoot forward a little?"

You do as he says until he tells you to stop. And with one arm supporting your lower back and the other firm under your legs, you're lifted out of your seat.

"Okay." The ground underneath his feet crunches as he straightens himself back up and out of the vehicle. "Now you can open your eyes."

As soon as you do your jaw drops.

"Surprise!"

Jungkook watches your stunned face as you take in all of Seoul from your perched position.

"I hope you don't mind that I didn't take us to a traditional restaurant. This is an overlook I happened to stumble on years ago when I first moved here. Not many people know about it because it's kind of off the beaten track but I get a bit adventurous sometimes."

He carries you around to the back of the car.

"Since you're still recovering I won't make us sit on the ground but I brought food that we can eat in the back of my trunk. There's a pillow there you can lean against too. And I made sure to park at an angle so we can watch the sunset."

"Wow...Jungkook I don't know what to say."

"It's cheesy isn't it?" His previously eager tone drops and you can't help but feel a pulling at your heartstrings. "I'm sorry if this isn't your thing. I probably should have asked."

"I love cheesy." You crack a small smile and Jungkook breaks out into a grin again, causing both of you have butterflies in your stomachs. "You're very thoughtful for doing this. I'm sorry about my initial reaction. I'm just shocked."

"Well, we're friends now, aren't we? You should get used to this kind of stuff from now on." He walks up to the trunk and carefully sets you down. "Here, lean back." He fluffs the pillow and then gestures for you to lay back.

Once you're comfortable, he hops in next to you and grabs the baby blue gift bag from the corner of the trunk. You don't know how you missed it before given its size and very decorative packaging.

"Before I give you this to you please know that I don't expect anything back okay?" His hands are shaky as he holds the bag on his lap. "This is just something I wanted to give you after your injury and having to be in the hospital for so long."

You nod your head in understanding but are not fully convinced. "And you're giving this to me as a friend, yes?" You take the bag from him and slowly open it.

"Mhm."

You narrow your eyes at him before reaching into the bag. You take out a very large, sturdy box. "God, Jungkook. This is so heavy. What's in here?" You tear apart the wrapping paper and open the smooth lid. "Oh my god, you didn't?!"

They're chocolates from the dessert shop you told him about last Sunday night. You had mentioned it in passing because you were craving sweets but not in the slightest did you think he'd take it to heart. The shop was at least an hour's drive away.

"Don't worry." He sees the pressure creeping on your face. "I was going that direction anyway. But I saw it on my way back and was reminded that you were craving it the other night. Uhm, there's also a coupon in there too. They included that in the purchase."

"Jungkook....you really didn't need to do any of this for me." You grab the small card laying at the bottom of the bag that reads 20% off. "Thank you so much."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" You're taken aback when he jumps off the trunk to scurry to the backseat. He returns in mere seconds with a generous bouquet of pink and purple hydrangeas. "These are for you too."

You shriek and grab them out of his hand, feeling a little giddy. Hydrangeas are your absolute favorites. "Sorry, that was really rude of me. These are so beautiful, though. Thank you. I don't know what to say."

Jungkook sits back down and pulls forward a freezer bag. "Seeing you this excited is enough. I brought us a lot of food too so, we should probably eat it before it starts going bad. This bag can only do so much preserving." He digs out box after box of yummy food from fresh strawberries to sushi. There are drinks too; banana milk and soju.

Your stomach growls as you watch him set the food between you both.

"Well, don't be shy." He hands you a plate with chopsticks. "Dig in."

.

"You look very pretty in that blouse..." He stabs his straw into his milk and takes a large sip. "The color really suits you."

"Oh, thank you." You manage the words once you swallow the strawberry you're eating. "Yours too."

Jungkook combs through his hair with his fingers. "Thanks, this t-shirt really brings out my eyes don't you think?" You laugh and shove his shoulder lightly.

"Stop, I'm being serious. I don't see you in this type of style often. It looks good."

He gives a playful shake of his head. "Where did you get that shirt anyway?" He gestures at your top again.

"At a store," you reply dumbly. "It was on sale. Gotta love a good deal right?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Never pay full price."

"That's exactly what I try telling my roommate. She only buys the best of the best but I think she could get the same thing 50% off if she waited long enough."

"You know Taehyung's the same way. Nothing but luxury from head to toe. I'm surprised he paints in a basic t-shirt and jeans some days."

You chuckle, feeling the air light and fresh. "Painting gets messy so it's better you not wear your best and brightest clothes. Sometimes I'll just wear a giant t-shirt that already has paint stains and nothing el–"

Shit.

You cringe at how quickly you can run your mouth. Jungkook doesn't need to know your painting attire evident from his sudden frozen up form.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be. I've heard worse." Jungkook clears his throat and looks out to the view in front of you. "This really is a beautiful spot is it not?"

Thank you for the deflection, you silently say to him.

"Yes, it's the best view I've seen in my life. I can't believe you found this place. It's like seeing everything for the first time again."

.

"__."

"Hm?"

"Is it weird that I–" He stops mid-sentence, hands rubbing his thigh. "Is it weird that I brought you here?"

"Of c–"

"No wait, wait that's not what I wanted to ask." He runs his fingers through his hair again, doing his best to keep eye contact. "What would you say if someone were to ask you out?"

You relax into a tight-lipped smile and quirk your head to a slight angle. "I'd probably say no because I'm on a date with you right now."

At this Jungkook's milk slips from his hand, spilling on his pants. You grab some napkins next to you and help him wipe the spillage off.

"We're on a date?" He stands the milk upright. "This is a date?"

"Yes, it very obviously is. I don't wear this top for just anyone you know." You close your mouth instantly and sit up straight. "You weren't meant to hear the last part."

"Wait, go back. I thought this was us hanging out. Remember? At the hospital, I said–"

"C'mon the flowers, the specialty chocolates, taking me to one of your secret hideouts. Not to mention packing all this food to share. It is most definitely a date. Do you not want it to be?"

"No! I mean of course, yes. But I would have dressed a lot better." He looks down at himself, embarrassed. "I just threw these on before I left the house."

"And what else would you have worn? I see you in dress shirts and slacks twice a week at the school, if not more."

"Oh, I guess you have a point." He lets out a sigh. "To be honest __. We don't have the most proper relationship for that kind of thing, do we? It's annoying that I keep saying it but I am still your professor until the end of this semester at least. Us dating would be kind of a breach of contract."

"So you won't call this a date because you think it's forbidden?" You cross your arms.

"Well not entirely. It's just...I'm scared. There it is. And if we plan to do any sneaking around business I need to know you...shit, this is going to sound so middle school of me...I need to know you're interested in me __."

"For fucksake Jungkook, I wouldn't have agreed to come if I wasn't interested." You move closer to his side so you're inches from his face. "You're the kindest person I've ever known and I'd like to know you more like you've been doing for me the past two weeks. You've gone out of your way so many times for me that I seriously can't keep up. And while I can't say that I'm in love with you since it's much too soon, I've become very attracted to you. It just sucks we're in a bit of an odd position with school and all. But we can make this work. I'm also in post-grad so I don't think we're doing anything that risky."

"What about Taehyung?"

"That's all you got out of what I just said?"

"Sorry, I'm just asking because you seemed into him at the art exhibit. You're both artistic after all." He fiddles with his fingers. "I'm just the guy who you got stuck with this year because you couldn't major in art."

You feel compelled to take one of his restless hands in your own, so you do–holding it loosely.

"Kim Taehyung was simply a visual interest," you say. "I never thought about anything serious with him. He's also faculty so unless he saves my life or something, I'm not really considering anything beyond a friendly report."

A moment of silence is exchanged as Jungkook lets your response sink in. And as long as your eyes aren't fooling you, you'd say he's more than pleased with it.

"So...you really wanna do this?" Jungkook asks with more anticipation than nervousness this time.

"Yes." You nod.

"Wow, okay um, well when do you want to go out?" He kicks his feet back and forth. And when he reflexively squeezes your hand you can't help but grin at his eagerness. "I'm free every weekend if that works for you."

"We should probably get to the end of this date first Dr. Jeon."

"Nooo, I like Jungkook. Can we stay with Jungkook when it's just you and me? Also, this isn't a date. We need a do-over."

You laugh, seeing a new side of him. He's more, hm, whiny than you thought–it's cute.

"Jungkook, we don't need a do-over. This can be a date if we want it to be. It's got all the elements already. Look." You lift his hand in yours. "We're already holding hands.

"Nope. When are you free?"

"How about this coming Friday after 4pm? Is that too far out?"

He shakes his head fervently. "It works perfectly for me. Let's do 4:01pm." Your baffled expression causes his own eyebrows to knit together. "What? You can't do 4:01?"

"I–yeah sure I can but I didn't expect you to suggest a time so soon."

"Well, you said you'd be free after 4pm right?"

You nod.

"Then it's a date!"

He smiles wide and you do the same.

Present

"Kook, grab us a cart. You won't believe what's on sale!" You stuff about five gold-foiled boxes under your arm. The yellow tag next to the price says 75% off which means you are for sure buying at least ten of these.

It's times like these that your husband enjoys watching you most. You can barely reach the self where the clearance chocolate is, nevertheless, you're on your tip-toes with arms fully extended above your head to grab at every box of sweets you can.

His inner hero wants to help but he's learned early on not to get in the middle of you and your favorite snack. It's better he listens to your request to get a cart instead.

"Don't hurt yourself in the five minutes I'm gone okay honey?"

"Mhm," you mumble, not really paying attention. "Kook this chocolate has caramel and orange inside. Oh my god, look." You show him a box of chocolates with cherry filling. "These are to die for. I need like six of these."

"Here give me some of those." Jungkook takes the boxes of chocolates from your arm when he sees them slipping from your hold. "I'll put these in a cart while you keep digging. But if someone else comes along, let them have at least one this time."

He knows how much of a little hog you can get with your candy.

"Are you kidding? Finders keepers." You reach for another box, the ones in the back are always the best.

"__."

"What? I'm doing all the hard work here which means I get to keep all the chocolate."

"Fine, fine. Be sure to check the expiration date too." Jungkook turns around to stalk toward the front of the store. If he doesn't get his butt to a cart soon, his wife is going to turn into a grizzly bear.

A very cute grizzly bear.

But a grizzly bear nonetheless.

"Did we really need thirty boxes of these?" Jungkook dumps the grocery bags on your kitchen counter. "I love you but this is insane. Who's going to eat all of this chocolate?"

"Well, I was planning on sending the twins home with some." You rummage through the bag then move to stack them in the pantry. "They'll be here in an hour so it can be a surprise from us."

"Yoongi's twins? You're going to send the two children whose father is a dentist a whopping bag of chocolate?" Jungkook hands you another box to put in the pantry. The little assembly line works well when putting groceries away.

"I'm only giving them one box okay? So Yoongi can shove it."

You hear a snickering behind you.

"Honey don't push the man who could likely yank all your teeth out of your head and end with, 'will that be all?'"

You roll your eyes. "Yoongi doesn't scare me like he scares you. But if you're so worried I will get his permission ahead of time."

Jungkook's mouth opens in response until he feels a slight vibration in his pant pocket. When he takes it out to check his initial good mood drops about ten degrees.

"Kook?" You watch as he reads whatever it is on his phone.

"Nothing." He switches off the device and places it face-down on the counter. "It's just dad."

"Something about your mom I'm presuming?"

Being Saturday, it's been a few days since Jungkook had his fallout with his mother. They were originally planning to stay in town until Friday but left Thursday morning instead due to Mrs. Jeon feeling "unwanted".

Your husband's been in close contact with his father ever since.

"Yeah," Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh. "She's journaling again apparently. It's what she does to cope with frustrations like me."

"I'm sorry Kook." You rub his arm soothingly. "Maybe she needs some time to think about everything that's happened. I know you want her to talk to you but maybe it's not all bad that she's jotting things down first."

"Yeah, maybe." He takes your hand and presses a light kiss against the back of your knuckles. "It's whatever though, Mom can have her fit. I'm not going to let her ruin one of the only free days I get with my wife."

You smile and quickly peck his soft lips–something Jungkook wishes would be longer.

"Love you," you say and return to your original task of putting groceries away.

 "Listen to me you two gremlins," Yoongi says on a bent knee. "Eomma and I will be back by 8pm. Until then your uncle Jungkook and Aunt __ are in charge. You know the rules, no jumping around on the sofas, don't into Aunt __'s paints, stay out of Uncle Jungkook's office, and under no condition are you to get into sweets."

He flicks his eyes to you for a brief moment then sets them back on the two seven-year-old girls in front of him. They look adorable with their matching space buns.

"But Appa–"

"No Eun-ji."

"Can't I just have one? Pleaseee?" She stares up at Yoongi with large eyes, hands clasped together. His second daughter Ari quickly does the same.

"We promise we'll brush our teeth right after."

Yoongi's face remains unmoved at his twin's relentless need for chocolate. Sure, he may be the one more likely to cave to requests when it comes between him and his wife but sweets were definitely off the table. His girls just got their teeth cleaned a couple days ago too, cavity-free, and he intends to keep it that way.

"Did you even bring your toothbrushes?" He knows for a fact they did not being that they weren't staying the night.

The twins exchange looks before breaking into a goofy grin. Mrs. Min leans down next to her husband at the moment and draws her girls into a hug.

"Appa and I will bring you back something better than chocolate tonight, okay?" She kisses her daughter's cheeks and then stands up. "Be good."

"K..." The twins let out a small huff then turn to set their backpacks on the living room couch.

"Hey," Yoongi calls after them. "Where's my hug?"

You let out a snort when you see Eun-ji face her dad again, tongue sticking out. Her sister gives a similar attitude with her hands on her hips and scrunched-up face. These girls might be in elementary school now but boy, those teenage years are sure to be rocking.

"Turn." You hear Ari from across the living room. She's standing on the sofa with her small hands holding a chunk of your husband's hair.

"Like this?"

"No the other side."

With his legs crossed on the floor, Jungkook shifts his head toward your direction with widened eyes. At this point, most of his hair has been pulled back into tight braids and finished off with yellow and pink hair clips. The only section left to do now was the underside.

"How do I look?" he asks you.

"Oh, you look breathtaking honey." You feel a soft makeup brush swipe across your cheek, courtesy of Eun-ji who's decided you needed a 'makeover'. You're not sure if that means a seven year old cramped on your style or what, but either way, you're getting bronze cheeks and glittery eyeshadow.

It's only been half an hour and the twins were already making you and your husband do their utmost bidding.

"Ari honey," you coo. "You should become a hairstylist when you grow up. You're doing such a good job with Uncle Jungkook's hair."

"I know," she sasses. "I'm good at this stuff Auntie. Everyone says that I am the queen of doing hair."

You and Jungkook giggle from the small child's gumption. It's good she's confident, you mouth to your husband.

He nods back. "Eun-ji's doing a great job too. You should see the glitter she's chosen for you."

"Not yet Uncle Jungkook," Eun-ji pipes up. "She can't look yet. It's a surprise!"

"Ah okay." He throws you playful eyes, eyebrows bouncing up and down suggestively. "A surprise huh?"

You flutter your eyes closed when you see Eun-ji dab her palette and reach forward to paint the eyeshadow over your lids. "Yup." she nods her head. "I'm giving Auntie the best color ever."

"Wow I can't wait to see honey," you say. "This wouldn't happen to be your favorite color would it?"

The tease in your tone makes Eun-ji grin. Of course, you can't see it but Jungkook can and it causes him to break out into a boisterous chuckle.

"You're so cute Eun-ji," he says, clapping his hands together.

"What about me?" It's Ari's sassiness making a comeback as she pushes the final yellow clip into Jungkook's hair.

"You're cute too Ari." You reassure the child and open your lids once Eun-ji gives you the okay. Not a second following that you're thrusted forward a hand-held mirror.

"What do you think?"

You glance at yourself in the reflection, blush blue eyeshadow that covers up to your eyebrows and bronze blush. You have ruby red lipstick on as well, Eun-ji's personal favorite.

"I love it, sweetheart. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." She gathers all the makeup containers and tools she can fit in her hands before making her way to your husband. "You're turn Jungkook."

"Okay, but can I pick what color this time?" Your husband smiles at the child with mirthful eyes.

"No." She sets the make-up in front of him and pops open a bright, Barbie pink lipstick.

"Anti-ti-ti-ti fragile, fragile!"

You watch from the kitchen as the twins jump around in the living room. After your makeover, the girls felt like a karaoke session was in order. They convinced Jungkook to join them so there he is with a microphone in his hand, belting the lyric of 'Antifragile' by LE SSERAFIM.

"Come on __!" Ari calls to you, breath heavy from all the rambunctious dancing. "Sing with us!"

You laugh and whisk the bowl of flour and sugar in front of you. "No you guys keep going. I'm a little busy at the moment."

"Doing what?" She runs up to the kitchen island where you stand, trying to peek inside the bowl.

"I'm making cookies."

"Really?" She rushes to the other side of the island to pull out the stool from underneath. Once she settles herself in the chair she looks at you with eagerness. "Can we eat them?"

"Hmm..." You pretend to think. "Didn't your dad tell you no?"

"Yeah, but you always give us sweets. Even if he says we can't have them."

The child has a point.

"How about this, if you help me make these you can eat them. But you can't tell your dad okay?" Ari nods. "Good, you can stir this for me while I crack some eggs."

"Just what are you doing?" You jump when Jungkook walks up behind you. "You wouldn't be giving these sweet girls something their parents told them they could have, would you?"

"Dad will be really mad if he finds out," Eun-ji joins in on the scolding. She turns down the music from the tv and folds her arms.

"Well I–"

"If you're going behind Yoongi hyung's back you're going to need some help, honey." Jungkook slides one of the kitchen draws open and reaches to take out a small plastic bag. He throws out two brand new kid-size toothbrushes, orange and blue. "Had a feeling we'd need these tonight after seeing you stock up on all that chocolate today."

"Now girls..." He turns to look at Ari and Eun-ji who seem to be busy mixing the bowl of flour and sugar together. "Hey girls."

They lift their heads.

"Make sure to brush twice before your dad gets back. This stays our little secret, understand?"

"Okay," they say in unison.

"Thank you Kook." You lean your head against your husband's firm chest, resting for a moment. This whole situation is kind of funny if you think about it. But you really hope you don't get beef from Yoongi later.

"Anything for you," Jungkook quips and kisses your head gently.

"Ew..." You hear Ari say.

"No it's not," Eun-ji bites back. "It's romantic, like the movies."

Ari scrunches her face at her sister. "No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Nope."

You and Jungkook wait for the two of them to simmer down but they keep going at it. Yes, no, yes, no...back and forth until one of them scoops up a handful of the flour in the bowl and tosses it at the other.

"Uh okay, no more! No more." You and Jungkook lunge forward to sweep the bowl out of their reach.

"How about you let Auntie and Uncle finish making the cookies and you two go back to karaoke?" Jungkook successfully persuades the twins and they run back into the living room in search of the next biggest hit to jam to.

You lock eyes with Jungkook now, wordless.

"Hm?" He hums at you.

"Mm." You shrug your shoulders and move towards the fridge but not before you're flicked with some of the flour yourself–your husband's hand powdery from the mixture. "Kook!"

You wipe your face, and light laughs fall from both your lips.

"Okay girls, get brushing!" Jungkook guides the twins to the bathroom. "Your parents are going to be home in fifteen minutes and that means these teeth need to smell like nothing my fresh mint." He squeezes the toothpaste on each girl's brush.

"Bursh, brush, brush," he chants and you shake your head as you wash the cookie sheet in the kitchen sink.

The twins have eaten about three cookies each and with chocolate stains all over their faces, they're going to need more than a 2-minute teeth brushing.

"Honey, I'm cracking the windows open and lighting my candles." Jungkook rushes around the house in search of his vanilla bean scents.

"I don't think that's going to take away the smell in such a short time. We should probably just take the beating Kook," you holler back.

"Oh, we're definitely getting dragged out tonight." He yanks the candle jars open and lights them. "The smell of freshly baked cookies is still too strong to hide but I'm hoping these candles will act as a distraction."

You hit your husband with the kitchen towel, the snap of it making him throw you a startled look. "Shit–do you not see the lighter in my hand?"

You roll your eyes. "Relax drama queen, you didn't have it ignited yet. Anyway, the candles aren't necessary if we're opening all the windows."

"It'll help though."

"Not really."

"Well, I think they will."

Jungkook goes back to lighting his candles and once he has the twentieth one lit, he's thoroughly pleased with himself.

As soon as the twins finish cleaning themselves up, they help scatters them throughout the house, leaving them in as many corners with surfaces as possible.

"Okay, that's it! That's the last one." Jungkook high-fives the twins and you toss the last dish in the drying rack.

"Good job team." You laugh and join them in the living room.

Eun-ji plops herself on the sofa with her backpack in her lap. "I had a lot of fun tonight."

Ari joins her on the couch with her own backpack in hand. "Me too." She pauses and then says something that you and Jungkook were very much underprepared for.

"You would make good mom and dads."

"You think so?" Jungkook shocks you by responding first.

Ari nods. "If you had kids, we could all play together. And we can have all the cookies we want because we'll be best friends. And best friends share everything!"

"So you want Auntie and I to have kids so you can keep hiding cookies from your dad?" Jungkook lunges forward to tickle the child mercilessly. "You little cookie monster!"

Ari rolls around on the couch, giggling repeatedly. You can't help but feel the thumping of your heart as you watch the scene unfold. And for the slightest moment, you imagine what it would be like with your own child.

All those thoughts are put to an abrupt end however when the doorbell rings.

Jungkook flies to the door to let Yoongi and his wife in. He flashes you a little smile before opening it, ensuring you that whatever happens he's got your back.

"Were you guys baking in here?" Are Yoongi's first words as he and the Mrs step inside the entryway of your house.

"Um, no? No, I don't think so." Jungkook feigns ignorance. "It must be coming from our neighbor's house."

With the twins home with their parents, you and Jungkook curl up together in your bed. You nuzzle your head in his inner shoulder and his arm holds around your waist.

"Those girls are a lot," Jungkook says. "But you know, I have to agree with them this time–it was kinda fun."

"Yeah?" You aimlessly trace circles on his chest.

"Still crazy, but yeah. I felt like I had a lot of good energy inside me tonight. And you know something else?" He looks down at you.

"What?"

"We'd make pretty damn good parents."

You bolt up from your reclined position the second the words drop.

"You can't keep doing this to me Jungkook," you say, your hands gripping the soft comforter. This isn't the first time he's teased you with having a baby and every time he does, you don't know what to take it as.

Is it a joke, is he serious, or just talking?

"You know how I feel and–"

"Hey." Your husband leans up to stroke your back with warm hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey. I don't mean to confuse you. I really am thinking about it you know? With everything that's been going on with my parents lately, I know I've been hard to pin down but I really am serious when I say we'd make good parents. Or when I say we might have a possible baby to make one day."

"Might. Could make. Maybe." You stare straight at your husband. "I know you're warming up the idea but you're still talking in such vague terms. I'm not at all trying to rush us to decide on a baby or not. But I just don't want to get a false sense of hope...that you'll say yes."

"Come here." He draws you into an embrace and kisses your cheeks, both of them. "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I admit the first few times I was more loose with what I was saying than I should have been. But I swear I, it was never my intention to be leaving you guessing. I'm so sorry."

"I just want to know what you really think Kook. So I can be sure where you're at through this whole thing. The last few days have thrown a wrench at us with all the stuff your mom's been doing. But I'd still like to be in the loop of things."

"Yes, of course. I'm going to tell you everything right now okay?" Jungkook takes a breath. "I want to give you a baby so bad and I think I'm 70 percent there. But I'm also 60% not there because I'm terribly scared that once it happens, once we have a baby...that I'll revert back to my original mindset of not wanting one."

"Kook–"

"Hold on a second."

You close your mouth and allow him to continue.

"I've already started seeing and feeling being around kids differently than before. So much so that I think we could be happy if we started a family together because I'm so happy when I'm with you. And if there's anyone I could do that with, it'd be you and only you. So yes, I want us to have a baby, as many as you want, but I want to be 100% there first."

"Okay, that's fair. I'm not going to lie that I don't feel a little out of body from what you just said. Just to clarify, you're saying yes to how many babies?" You shine your eyes at him. "You said you want to give me as many babies as I want right? How many would that be?"

"My limit is yet to be determined." He grins at you. "It seems I might need to repeat some things if all you got out of what I just said is that I'll give you as many babies as you want."

"No, actually." You grip his hand. "I heard what you said and thank you. I feel a lot better knowing your thought process through this whole thing. We both need to be 100 % in before deciding on this next step in our lives. And about you being worried that you'll revert back to not wanting children. I'm no expert but I don't think that'll be true given your recent exposure with kids has made you feel better than worse. You said it yourself–you had a lot of good energy inside you tonight."

"True. You make an excellent point there. I think I still need some more time though. I was even thinking that maybe I'll....talk to Hoseok about this."

"I'm glad to hear that Kook. Hoseok is an amazing man and I know talking to him about all this will be nothing but beneficial for you."

"Thank you for being patient with me." Jungkook pulls you both down on the mattress, closing his eyes when his head hits the pillow.

"Same to you." You snuggle back into his chest. "I really hope we can have a family together."

"Me too," you hear him mumble before you close your own eyes.

A/N: Yup I told you this would be a long one. Ty for sticking with me! Also, what do you think? Was it a first date or not? LMK your thoughts 🥰

Masterlist

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.7k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: The great 141 road trip is fine in the beginning, but being on the road for eleven hours clearly gets to everyone, especially you. For once, Ghost tries to show you some genuine compassion without any ulterior motives. 

A/N: Thought that this would not only be a fun part to write, but also a breather to get to develop more character dynamics. Feel free to comment what you think each member of the 141 favorite music genre is! Including your own~

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Such a long drive was new territory for the boys. They were so used to helicopter rides, armored cars, and jets to take them where they needed to go fast. For their size and stature, the minivan was cramped, slightly rough on the road, and just plain weird. It took a few seat adjustments before everyone was as comfortable as they could be. Save for Gaz. He just prayed that a pit stop was coming soon and someone would be willing to switch seats with him.

For the first hour, the ride was noisy with conversation. Conversation that tried to reel you in. Price, looking through the front windshield, asked you a question. “How do you know where you’re going, Hex?”

“I’ve spent time memorizing road maps around the area. We’re taking a back road. A scenic route. Any other cars on the road would further see this minivan as a family road trip through the country.” You elaborated, your eyes steady on the road ahead. There were a lot of twists and turns on this route, but you knew that it would pay out in the end.

“Hidden in plain sight.” Soap added, his tone showing that he was a bit impressed with the logic of it all. Perhaps you knew what you were doing after all. Without you meaning to or doing anything extraordinary, the group was slowly starting to trust you and your judgment as evidenced by your creative planning. You were becoming quite the leader as well. But, you weren’t completely out of the woods yet. They still kept some of their guards up, just in case.

“There’s a method to the madness. Don’t underestimate the power of assumptions.” You advised, a word of advice that would hopefully stick with them after all of this was over. If they listened, perhaps some problems the world was facing could actually be solved. 

Soap pulled out his phone with the intention of making this trip more enjoyable. Making sure that his VPN you required was turned on, he began to browse through songs using his music app. Once he added his favorite songs, he passed it to his captain. “Whatever you want, Cap. No genre limits.”

Price took the phone and rubbed his chin for a second in thought, his brick-brown beard moving with his fingers. Eventually, he added some songs to the playlist. Once he was satisfied, he passed the phone to Gaz who lit up at the idea. “Now it’s gonna feel like a real road trip!”

A few more songs were added before the phone was passed all the way up to Ghost. Hesitantly, Ghost added his own favorite songs. His teammates knew him decently well. They’re even seen his face before under the mask. However, there were still things they were learning about when it came to his personal life. One of which was his favorite kind of music. Thankfully, he was willing to share that information, trusting his team more and more with each passing day. 

He looked at you when he was done, wondering if he should even offer. Having watched the interactions from the mirror, you decided to stay out of it. When Ghost was done, you just shook your head for a silent “no.” Simon imagined that you were rejecting the idea in your mind based on the warning look you gave him. Don’t even try. That made him really wonder what kind of music you liked. The records back home were incredibly diverse. But what was your favorite? Jazz? Metal?

The phone was passed back to Soap. It was quite a diverse playlist. He didn’t realize that his team had such different tastes, but it just made him excited to give it a listen. He connected it to the car’s bluetooth and hit the shuffle button. Ghost went ahead and switched the car to bluetooth mode for him. Almost immediately, the car filled up with music, starting with one of Price’s songs. 

Instead of tuning out, you tuned in. Very much so. Small details, even favorite songs, could say a lot about a person. You were learning about the men now. Not for the sake of potential friendship, no. For the sake of information for potential future manipulation if things went sideways. You always prepared for the worst, even when times seemed like the best. 

The discussion carried forward, now with the ease of real music in the background. Gaz decided to take the plunge and ask you a question. “So. . . Hex. . . You lived a long time out in the woods. How did you survive on your own? There doesn’t seem to be a grocery store for miles around.”

You adjusted your sitting position, trying to get comfier in the driver’s seat. If you were going to deal with this for most of the trip, you might as well get as comfortable as you can. You answered, one hand on the wheel and one arm resting near the window. “I have an acquaintance who’s a farmer that gives me whatever I need. In return, I pleasure his wife, which helps save their marriage.”

His eyes got huge, not expecting the answer. He nearly tripped over his words. “Really?!”

“No, Kyle. You really think I would do such a thing?” You scowled. Internally, though, you were cracking up at his bewilderment. Soap and Price began chuckling in their seats. Even Simon was cracking a smile that no one could see. Kyle’s embarrassed blush that matched the falling red leaves outside made them even more amused. Who knew you had a sense of humor? A crude sense at that. 

He muttered an apology. At least he was a good sport about it. A part of him found it quite funny too. After the chuckles died down, you answered his question truthfully. “Kate does supply drops for me. Not all the time, just when I need more meat than the woods can provide. Everything else I grow.”

It was an answer that made sense and didn’t reveal much about yourself. Nothing too fascinating about it. At least, to everyone save for Ghost. He took note of your truth, pictured you growing fruits and vegetables, hands in the dirt and sweat dripping down your temple. He imagined you hunting too. A heavy rifle and camo. Patience, aim, fire. He thought that some of the foods he had from your kitchen tasted a little gamey. 

“Didn’t you ever get lonely being out there all by yourself?” Soap inquired, not afraid to ask the question that was on everyone’s mind. All eyes were on you as you took a deep breath.

“No, Johnny. Never.”

This was partially a lie as well as partially the truth. There were times where you did feel alone. Like the only human left on the planet. Kate’s calls every now and then help curb it a little, but it wasn’t the same as actually being in the same space with someone physically. Yet, when you were surrounded by people on a classified mission or watching disaster after disaster on TV, it made you glad that you weren’t a part of any of it. The flurry of different emotions coming from all different sides when with civilization was often too much for you. You needed control. More control than what you could usually get when you were on the outside again.

Simon was watching you carefully now, trying to pick up any indication of a cracked resolve. A twitch, a change in breathing, anything to read into further. There was no way you never felt lonely. Yet, you said it with such conviction that it startled everyone. Ghost just couldn’t believe you.

Having killed the conversation, the boy awkwardly tried to change topics. Now excluding you. Good. You preferred it this way.

~

A few hours in and the car was quiet. Light, easy music played now from the car speakers as everyone took a nap. Except for Ghost, of course. Fortunately, he did keep himself occupied by reading the book you lent him. The first couple of chapters were a miss in his opinion. After a couple more, it started to get good. It didn’t take him long to actually get invested in the story, reading between the lines as you had done when you read. You had good tastes.

Enjoying the quietness of the trip was something you didn’t think you would be able to do. Especially with Simon in the front. Surprisingly, he was being good which you hoped would like for the rest of the trip. Unfortunately, you jinxed it in your head. Out of the corner of your eye, he bookmarked his spot and took a break. Now, he wanted to talk to you.

“You didn’t play your own music.” 

“So?” You shrugged, wondering where he was going with this. Nothing good probably.

“Why not?” He simply asked, himself not knowing what the big deal was. It was just music. You could have even lied. Picked out music you hated. Instead, you just opted out, not even willing to risk three minutes of any particular melody.

You suppressed an annoyed groan. Not this shit again. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand, Simon?”

There you go again, saying his name with such disrespectful ease. It still made his heart beat faster hearing it from you. It still made his muscles tense in vexation as well. You noticed this from how the grip on his arms got tighter, his arms crossing his chest. “How much could music taste actually reveal about you as an individual?”

“A lot! God damn it, when are you going to drop this stupid shit? Quit playing your stupid fucking game?!” You spat, trying to keep your cursing at a low volume lest you wake up the rest of the team. Your knuckles were turning white with how hard you were gripping the steering wheel, desperately trying to keep your cool.

However, he didn’t drop it. He didn’t want to, so he wouldn’t. Simon could be just as stubborn as you which made you want to punch him. Have his teeth fall out of his mouth and get caught in his skull mask. “You mean to tell me that you’ve learned a lot about us based on our favorite songs alone? That’s just ridiculous, Hex.”

He could use your name as a curse too. Anything to get you to keep talking to him. Anything to keep your attention. To figure you out. As much as you didn’t want to give him what you wanted, you did anyway out of sheer aggravation. “It’s called Music Psychology, you fucking ass! Do they do anything besides tell you what to shoot in that god forsaken military?! Do they really keep you all fucking braindead?!”

“Watch your mouth, Hex! You don’t want to say anything you don’t mean.” Simon warned, his voice low like a bass about to snap its strings. He had to remind himself that you weren’t like them when it came to combat approach to cool down. The 141 employed leadership, strength, swift execution. An assassin like you employed other values, one being the art of psychology apparently. 

He wasn’t going to let you badmouth his team and those back home that don’t deserve your slander, though. Many people back home were plenty capable with their own skill sets. It wasn’t fair to put them all in one box just because they followed the orders of the government.

“Watch my mouth?! Have you even heard the shit that’s coming out of yours?! Or is your head so far stuck up your own ass that you can’t hear what you say?” You antagonized further, making the situation worse with each passing insult.

“Why are you so fucking defensive?! You cracked a joke earlier, but now asking about your music tastes is too much? You don’t make any fucking sense, Hex. What the hell are you so afraid of?” His own voice was rising with volume as he spiraled out of control as well.

You were practically yelling at this point like the rest of the world didn’t exist except for you and Simon. A personal bubble where you could really try to rip him a new one. You didn’t hold back. “I’m not afraid of anything, Ghost! I just want you to leave me the fuck alone! Why are you so desperate to know me?!

“You’re part of this team, whether you like it or not!  Whether you want to be an enemy or not! Part of that is trusting us with your life. All of it!” He argued, trapping himself in this conflict bubble with you.

Your temper was boiling over to the point you could cry. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just let this go? “Why can’t you understand that I am never going to be part of your team?! I never can and I never will!”

At that he paused. There was something about your last retort. Never can? It was oddly specific. What did that mean?

Just then, the light for gas lit up on the dashboard. You clenched your jaw, cursing more profanities that would have anyone blush. A couple miles down was a gas station. A wave of relief washed over you. Now you had an excuse to exit the car to get away from Simon.

You didn’t realize it before with how provoked you were, but the 141 in the back was awake and clearly heard the two of you bickering. The tension thick enough to choke on made it hard for them to interfere. This pit stop would hopefully let things settle down again.

As soon as the car was parked near an empty pump, the doors slid open to let the men out. It felt good to stretch their legs and breathe in some fresh air. It was about time Gaz was relieved of the back seat too. Price, Soap, and Gaz headed into the convenience store for a moment to pick up drinks and snacks, something that was essential for their road trip experience. You leaned against the car, waiting for the gas pump to finish. The entire time, Ghost sat silently in the front doing his own breathing exercises to get his temper under control. God, you were venomous. Troublesome, irritating, infernal, a million other words. Yet, you were beautiful when you were pissed. He couldn’t understand it.

Finally, the car was loaded up once again, now complete with drinks, snacks, and a full tank of gas. The seating arrangements changed, Price now in the back to allow Gaz a chance to let his legs stretch out more. Besides that, he didn’t really want to be up front with all of the conflict. He would normally break it up, but he still didn’t know enough about you to feel comfortable doing so. It was better for this to just play out. It wasn’t like Ghost couldn’t hold his own.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Soap ripped open a bag of chips followed by a joke. “Looks like mom and dad are fighting again.”

The smirk on his face was quickly wiped away as a pair of keys jingled right near his ear, embedded in his head rest. You had turned from your seat as soon as you registered his distasteful joke, thrown the car keys like a knife, and narrowly missed pinning his ear against the fabric. The car was dead silent as you stared daggers into him. Despite being a strong man with plenty of experiences with danger along with close calls, this experience had Johnny near pissing himself. If looks could kill, he would have been six feet under already.

What was worse was the fact that you missed on purpose. 

“Shut the fuck up! You are not to insinuate that again. Ever! Now, I don’t want anyone trying to talk to me or talk about me for the rest of this fucking trip. Talk to each other, I don’t give a shit. But no more dragging me into any conversation. Are we fucking clear?!”

You were met with quick, obedient nods followed by Soap gingerly handing you back your keys. Before you all knew it, you were back on the road like you didn’t just nearly kill Soap.

Simon was speechless, not expecting you to be so. . . dangerous. His feelings about what just happened were conflicting. On one hand, he wanted to fight you to defend his trusted sergeant that meant no harm, even if he didn’t really like the joke either. On the other hand, he’s never been more attracted to a woman in his life.

The car ride was silent for the next several hours.

~

Your muscles ached from your stiff position. You’ve been driving this whole time, only allowing gas breaks to be your time to stretch out. The boys have rotated seats every stop, now including Ghost who was finally giving you some space by being in the back. Last stop, though, he moved right up to the front with you once again. 

You were getting the dreaded road trip tunnel vision. After so many hours of driving, you couldn’t see anything except for the road ahead. You weren’t so much as driving anymore. You more like just looking out the front windshield, barely keeping up with the surrounding area that passed by. What you normally would recognize as trees, road signs, and roadkill were now just a big blur.

“You’re tired.” Simon commented, treading very carefully. He didn’t want to start another fight. Far from it. He just couldn’t bear to see you so exhausted from driving. 

“I’m fine.” Your voice strained, having lost some of it from the screaming match earlier in the trip. You weren’t used to talking so much as you have been for the past week, let alone fighting with words. A warm cup of tea with honey sounded so good right now.

Ghost took a deep breath in before he gently settled his hand on your shoulder. The fact that you didn’t shrug his touch away was very telling that you were really out of it. “Come on, Hex. Just for a bit. Pull over and I’ll take over the drive. We can switch back after you recuperate.”

It took you a minute to agree. Pulling off to the side of the road, you switched places. The room to stretch out in the passenger side was very much needed. Your bones cracked as you really gave yourself time to take it easy for a moment. “Just an hour. Then, we’ll switch.”

He nodded, finally agreeing with you on something out loud. “Just an hour.”

~

You ended up dozing off for longer than intended. Despite the agreement, Simon let you rest. The trip was already almost complete anyway. What was two more hours to add to your much needed rest?

When the car slowed to a stop, the gang woke up out of their naps, eager to exit the minivan and head into the average-looking hotel you had designated as the new checkpoint. It was nearing dinner-time, the city bustling with people heading to enjoy their meals. Price was ready for something other than chips. Soap and Gaz were already discussing potential food spots as if they were tourists. 

As they unloaded the car to carry their things into the hotel, you stayed asleep. Dead asleep. The deepest sleep you have had in what felt like a lifetime. The men were careful to not wake you up as they unloaded luggage after luggage out of the trunk. When everything was squared away with checking in as well as bringing luggage up to the rooms, you were still snoozing away, much to their surprise.

Price opened up your door, ready to wake you up to get a move on. However, Ghost stopped his hand from touching you. “I’ll take her up. Just go ahead and grab some grub.”

Well, John wasn’t going to say no to that offer. He would rather not be bit by such a feral woman. Though, he did feel like he had to warn Ghost of what he was really doing, having observed just about everything he was trying to do in regards to you. “You’re playing with fire, you know.”

Ghost unlocked your seatbelt and picked you up out of the minivan in a princess carry. Miraculously, you still didn’t wake up. “I know. . .”

The hotel staff were concerned with him carrying you into the hotel. A large man with a skull mask carrying an unconscious lady certainly didn’t look good. In order to avoid interference, Simon had a lie ready for when a bodyguard approached. “I know the mask is scary, but it hides some burn scars. I’m just taking the missus up to the room. She fell asleep in the car.”

Not being paid enough to question the lie, he allowed the both of you to pass by. 

You were heavy in his arms, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He could feel the softness of your skin, the firmness of your muscles. He could make out each individual eyelash that just barely kissed under your eyes. As much as you drove him crazy, you truly were beautiful.

The ding of the elevator reaching their floor knocked him out of his trance. Using a room key, he headed into your space for the next couple of days. The room was pretty basic. A bed, a dresser, tv, bathroom, nightstands, a desk. The only thing that really made it stand out was the original art of the wall made by local, Italian artists. 

He settled your sleeping body down onto the queen-sized bed, brushing your hair out of your face as you settled into the mattress. Looking at you like this was a breath of fresh air for him. He didn’t think he would be able to see you like this so soon. 

Sleeping around others was a sign of trust. Were you just really that exhausted? Probably. Ghost would still take this as a sign of victory anyway.

For a few moments longer, he studied your features. The sound of his stomach grumbling for a meal encouraged him to leave you be for now to which his brain protested. Then again, you probably wouldn’t like it if you found out that he watched you sleep.

Before he left, he took one last look at you, burning the image into his mind. “You said you didn’t sleep, kitten.”

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: How Will You Experience Good Luck This Spring? 🍀💰🌈

Sup y'all, welcome back to a rather verdant and hopeful pick a card reading! I hope y'all are antsy for a colorful free tarot game, 'cause I'll be rolling one out starting tomorrow 3/18, until Thursday 3/21. More details will be out tomorrow when the game opens, but today's three swatch selections will give you a little hint at what's to come.

Select one of the three green palette cards below, or from one of the corresponding emojis, to find out how you'll experience a bit of luck this coming season.

Pile 1 - Luck of the Irish Pile 2 - Winter Shamrock Pile 3 - Clover Patch

Pile 1 - Luck of the Irish 🌄

Mystery, Lady's Mantle - Fortitude, 14. Intuition, 7 - Clear Aura; IX Hermit, 2 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, 9 of Cups, Page of Cups

"Gently place your feet on the path you were meant to travel."

Hey pile 1, I'm seeing that you're going to be fortunate where traveling anywhere may be concerned. You're feeling more ready than ever to take on the outside world. Can you see the winding road in Lady's Mantle? Even if you're not traveling physically, you will be lucky in whatever path you begin to follow in spring. With the key in intuition, you may have recently had to overcome certain trials in order to get to this point, and you seem pretty anxious to move on. But your message says to "gently place your feet," not "scramble to get out the door without checking your shoelaces first". You're being advised to walk, not run to your nearest destination, perhaps because you may still need to come to terms with the decision you're making. Be sure that this next path is one you want to follow, and keep in mind that what may seem to be the next stop is not necessarily the final one.

During your last chapter in life, which may have ended as recently as a day ago or as long as a year, you've had to put up with a lot of stress. Trying to juggle your personal needs along with everyone else's drama. You may have had the strong urge or tendency to stay tucked inside in order to recuperate. Winter has mainly been about healing from the previous year. This spring, you will be luckier going out the door to your next adventure without the baggage. I see the Hermit as stepping out of a dark cave to feel the first warm spring day of the year. You'll be rewarded for your patience and determination in getting through your ordeal, if even just by making it through each day even when it was difficult.

The key reminds me of video games specifically. In day to day life, we use them as tools to get from one place to another. But in games, a key can symbolize either an opportunity to find some good loot, or the chance to step up to the next level. Now that you have this key, this solution to a particular problem, you'll be able to move forward with more ease. The way is being gently lit for you, like a glowing path that takes you to your next goal. As easy as it makes the game to have this glowing path, don't forget to pick up things and check out areas along the way. Keep at least one foot in the present moment so you can find these bonuses.

You may not be necessarily sure of where you're going next right now, just a vague sense that you're moving on ahead. And it's okay if you don't have it all figured out right now. You'll be able to see how you can manage the life you have now with the life you desire. Tap into what you want, and meditate on where you would like to go next if money, energy, time, or obligations weren't factors. Dream of your next adventure before you fall asleep, imagine one that you make your inner child sing. Envision that every time you take a bath, you're washing away parts of the past that you no longer need, as with sleep. Spring will bring to you a sense of replenishment and newness.

Pile 2 - Winter Shamrock ❄

Faith, Yarrow - Pocket of Protection, 21. Travel, 9 - Self-Acceptance; Capricorn, 8 of Wands, Taurus, Page of Cups, XI Justice

"Fill up from the healing waters of Mother Earth's sacred springs and connect to her heartbeat. Become as one energy."

Dear pile 2, your hard work is finally paying off somewhere. Your luck will let you open up to your life again, like a butterfly stretching its wings. The Travel card here can talk about being lucky in your travels, but it more specifically talks about the chance of a new job or project opportunity coming in. This is something you've been diligently working for, even if it's just working for a certain amount of time off. You're used to putting in a significant amount of effort to go further. Your luck this spring will give you a chance to rest AND receive blessings that are overdue, the kind of good fortune that comes directly from your energy and time.

I'm seeing an emphasis on 8 here, with Faith and the 8 of Wands. Perhaps this represents the days or months you've had to work and wait for something important. The Eightfold Path of Buddhism may have some relevance for you. Your luck will come as a result of sticking to your virtues. The Wheel of the Year may also have relevance. Taurus and Capricorn are both hard working Earth signs, they're difference being that Taurus indulges in what it has worked for, while Capricorn gets more empowered by regularly pushing to the top. Understand that you do not need to do any extra or go above and beyond for the sake of receiving this luck any more. You've done all you needed to do to attract this energy to you. Remember that hiking is more than continuously climbing; it also involves chances to eat a snack while watching the clouds roll by between the mountains.

The Taurus card was meant to clarify Yarrow. Taurus is known for "I Have", the sign for material possessions. See how Yarrow is being held between hands safe in a bubble? You may be lucky in receiving something special this spring like a gift, or an expensive item you've wanted to splurge on for a while. If you're not sure how you'll acquire it just yet, try not to get too winded controlling the outcome. If it's meant to be in your life, it will be. If it's out of sale in one store, luck will have it that you'll be gifted by a friend who thought of you as they saw it. Your most precious possessions will be protected by luck this spring, particularly during your trips and vacations abroad.

Time based blockages are melting away, and you may be surprised at how quickly things progress once you take the chance to stop and breathe. You'll find that time becomes less of a factor in how things progress this season. What may seem like a week-long ordeal could take only a day for you to resolve. Interview offers may come in fast and hot, which will only be noticeable if you're actually granting yourself the chance to stop and listen to these offers instead of pushing for a certain result. Justice wants you to balance your ambitious nature with a desire to take it easy and enjoy the good life. You'll be given the ability to do both this season. Accept the amount of progress you've already made, as you've likely done much more than you think. You'll increase your luck by accepting your current situation while having faith that your goals will still be there when you're ready to climb upwards again.

Pile 3 - Clover Patch 🍀

Cleanse, Red Clover - Center and Ground, 31. Release, 27 - Divine Light; XIV Temperance, 10 of Swords, Knight of Cups, 9 of Cups, 5 of Wands

"The light that you are seeking is already within you. Follow those things that bring peace to your soul."

Pile 3, wowie! You got the Red Clover next to Clover Patch! Notice how the flowers are wrapped around the heart. Some of you may have been battling a bad case of the winter blues, and this spring will give you a noticeable pep in your step. I recommend asking your doctor about Seasonal Affective Disorder if you suspect this is a regular issue every winter, although this is not guaranteeing you do have it. But I'm getting the feeling that you'll have the chance to heal your heart and regain a lot of lost energy and motivation either way. This spring will give you luck through giving you opportunities to find peace, joy, and contentment. You're stepping into light so you may bask in it. This fortune will bring about an internal change for you. (I'm hearing you'll somehow be luckier if you literally spend more time out in the sun!)

For some of you who are more religiously inclined, you may experience a deepened or renewed connection with your divine source this spring. Whether you pray to deities, ancestors, spirit guides, or your higher self, your connection will be empowered. If not as religious, you'll still feel more attached to the world around you and better aligned with your sense of life's purpose. You'll be feeling less "me against the world" and more "hey, the world's not perfect, but at least I've found my own footing." Temperance balances narcissus, of self love, and the iris, divine love. 10 of Swords shows that surrendering the past and allowing things to simply be will help you feel an refreshing and blissful period this spring.

I see a harp in Divine Light. It's less about moving forward and more about having the peace to dance in the now. Iris comes in many colors. This surge of spiritual awareness may come through in your artistic pursuits. Spring may help you creatively flow with ideas. Although Red Clover wants you to get you moving, it's also important with the 5 of Wands to ground these ideas by approaching them one at a time, little by little. Not everyone can do a productivity 180°, from making nothing to making 10 drawings a day. You'll have time this Spring to make art less of a chore and more of a joy. Art is a way to express ourselves, and you must have a lot to express after the winter you've been through.

Spring will give you a chance to play some catch-up, clearing away the things that drained your energy before. With peace of mind, it'll be easier to see what should stay and what should be left behind. Sometimes knowing what we don't want is as necessary as knowing what we do want. Major distractions are cleansed away in favor of working on what you've wanted to do for a while. If any of you struggle with artist or writer's block, I'm feeling relief here as chapters and sketches are drafted out freely as they come. If you're looking to renovate your living space, you'll have more ease in going through old things, replacing curtains, and dusting shelves to make more room. Your luck begins with inner peace, which radiates over time into expressing it through the world around you, reflecting your sense of spiritual connection. Art, home renovation, and even gardening are just a few of many examples for how you might creatively expand.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 47.3k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”

a/n: howdy folks! I’m pulling my head out of my ass and getting back into writing. These last few weeks have been leveling put for me and I’ve been feeling a lot better compared to how my life HAS been. These two were the perfect break even though this took my two whole months for only a few thousand words. I’ll be back sooner than last time with an update, but you’ll see me before then for another wip. Much love, hayhay 🤍

Chapter 8: What Was I Thinkin?

Three hours ago, if you asked Joel how the night would come to its end, he’d tell you he’d probably be in the cabin, laying in his cold bed, staring up at his ceiling fan, alone—with his right hand working his dick to the tune of the farmer’s daughter. In fact, three hours ago, he’d told Tommy something similar.

“Joel, man—I promise It looks fine.”

He adjusts the buttons on his shirt another time, stuck between leaving one undone and letting the opening linger down his chest. “Fine ain’t gonna cover it, Tom—ain’t no way in hell I’m walkin’ up to her lookin jus’ fine.” Tommy huffs from behind him and starts to go through the closet beside Joel while he stares at himself in the body length mirror behind the door.

“What about this one?” Tommy beams, He’s holding up a black shirt on a hanger, slight dust on the shoulders from it’s lack of use. He’s half surprised the moths haven’t gotten to it yet. Its buttons are made of iridescent pearls that snap in place, labyrinthian embroidery adorning the breast pockets. “Ain’t worn it since before the accident.” He lifts one of the sleeves in his hands, lingering on the fitted cuff.

His mind takes him back to half forgotten nights under neon lights, long neck bottles and ropers calluses on his rodeo-worn hands. To money wasted on buckle bunnies and broncs, to years taken off his life under the sharp hooves of a one ton animal—years he’ll never get back. Years he wishes he’d never taken for granted.

He was a more confident man then, not cocky—but proud of his abilities in the arena, proud enough to walk tall, speak surly. He was a master in his sport because he trained religiously, fully immersed in the idea that this was his only shot at making it. He still believes that, even now. He wishes you could have met him then, when he was that Joel—Rodeo buckles and spurs, cowboy hats and stadium lights. When he was a white straw hat and chaps, an unsullied grin with a thirst for adrenaline and belt buckles.

He holds the black cotton between his well worked fingers and longs to be that man again—if only for one night. Would you like him? A cowboy in his prime with worked muscles, before his beer belly and the softness in his chest really set in? “This one’s good,” he huffs, brushing the dust off the shoulders before unbuttoning it enough to remove it from the hanger. “Lemme help you.” His brother offers. Joel’s not naive, he knows the fear is visible atop the surface of his flushed skin, in the deepened frown lines and the shake in his hands.

Tommy is a lot of things, but once in a while he softens around his selfish edges and he bends a little, reaching out for the weeping limbs of his brother, struggling with all his might to keep himself standing up straight in the storm, a resilient and irrepressible figure to look up to. Tommy sees the way the longing shines through the perforations in his irises, the way his shoulders slump with oppressive burden—and he takes pity on the older man. “I’ll wash it real quick while you shower. It’ll be good as new, fresh outta the dryer by the time you're done.” He looks up at Joel, who’s still transfixed in the forgotten token of his former youth, of the man who he used to be. Items he’d left in storage down in Austin that Hank had so graciously shipped to Jackson.

He almost wishes he’d never gotten it all back, it was easier then—to hide from who he was when he wasn’t reminded of his past every single day, but once in a while—that reckless, spotlight chasing cowboy grasps for the surface. And tonight? Tonight is your birthday, the town dance, where you’re going to be, probably looking like something Joel doesn’t have a shot in hell with. It’s your damn birthday and he wants to ask you to dance but he’s not sure the fee quick dance lessons he got will suffice. What if he stumbles? Steps on your pretty little feet? Drops you?

“Joel—“ there's a snap in front of his face and he pulls himself out of the chaos inside of his mind. “Man, you are loosin’ it. I’ve never seen you this wound up over some girl—“ his eyes snap up to his brothers and he huffs lowly. “She ain’t just—some girl. She’s Hank and Lou’s daughter, people I think of as family. She’s smart and resourceful, sometimes a little reckless but she makes me feel like…like I’m alive for once.” Tommy sets the black shirt down and sit on the side of Joel's bed. Beside him, Joel's weight sinks onto the mattress. “M’gettin’ old, Tom. I don’t have a lot of good years left in me and I don’t know if I’ll ever have a opportunity like this again.”

Tommy takes a glance over at the distant look in his brothers eyes. “Opportunity?” Joel's eyes flick over and he sighs. He wishes Tommy had a little bit of what he had built inside of him, the innate goal of settling down, finding where he belongs and who he belongs with.

“At bein’ happy. Good memories for my restless nights.” If he fucked this up and missed his chance, he’s not sure he’ll have it in him again, if it will ever feel like this with anyone else. He thinks he’s done, thinks you’re it. He thinks he could give you forever if you’d let him.

“S’that why you’re so messed up in the head? What, do you think she’s going to shoot you down?” Tommy’s voice picks up in pitch, offense used like a weapon to get his point across and Joel appreciates the gusto. “Think I’m gonna go home alone tonight. Think it’s just gonna be me and the crickets and this damn hand again, dreamin’ bout how damn sweet she is.”

Tommy’s hand reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and he retrieves a silver flask, offering it to his older brother who takes it with unsure fingers. “Just be yourself, man. Walk up to her like you belong there. Just need a little bit of confidence, don’t let her think you’re second guessing yourself. I don’t know her like you do—but I know that girl is more than willing when it comes to you.”

Joel takes a long swig of rot-gut whiskey, lets is sink into his bones and find the will to drag himself into the shower and wash away the saw dust lingering on his skin from the floor of the dance hall, ease some of the soreness in his knees and back from learning how to dance.

When he’s finished, there's a clean shirt and a flask laying on his bed. Joel finishes off the whiskey before he fastens the first button.

Liquid courage is the only thing that gets him to town.

He’s everywhere—everywhere. His hands burn on your thigh, on your hip where they dig in just a little too roughly when he pins you to the wall beside the back door. The second it closed behind you, there was a desperation clinging to the early spring air, perforating the slight chill until it shimmied beneath it and took life in the form of heat dripping across your exposed flesh. It was sticky and hot, sucking you in like a vortex straight to the center of what your world revolved around—Joel Miller and his touch that feels like fire.

He tastes like alcohol and tooth paste and part of you wonders if that’s what's changed about him, why he was so willing to let go of his reservations in-front of half of the town. He’s been drinking, drowning his insecurities enough to throw himself at you bravely.

Will he still be this Joel when you open your eyes in the morning? Will he regret it?

His teeth dig into your bottom lip and your brain goes fuzzy, stars forming behind your closed eyes. Insecurities can wait until tomorrow, you decide. His hips press forward ever so slightly and the outline of his cock can’t go unnoticed, not with the way it makes the fabric of your panties drag against your clit tantalizingly. Behind your closed eyes, the stars morph into crackles of fireworks, filling your senses with bright pleasure and desperate desire to chase those lights into the night.

You hike your legs higher, trying to drag him into the delicious delirium with you. The movement pulls a guttural groan out of the broad cowboy. “Joel—Joel,” you need his hands to leave brands on your skin where they’ve touched you, setting fire to your soul. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” Is he crumbling like you, throwing himself into this very moment right here? Is he as desperate as you are? Does it feel like a travesty and a triumph? The yearning you’ve endured, for the victory of finally knowing what he feels like when he kisses the breath from your lungs.

It’s more than you know how to articulate—more devastating than you anticipated and yet—it’s still not enough. It won't be enough until his heart beats in time with your own and you feel him wrapped up in your body

His teeth dig into your jaw and your body reacts before you tell it to, searching for the release only he can bring you.

“Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

And suddenly, in the time it takes to flip on a light switch, he’s gluttonous, insatiable and voracious—a wild predator set loose just to turn on its careful handler. The only thing that comes to mind, in comparison, is a pack of wolves frenzied to sink their teeth into the supple flesh of their prey.

In your case—Joel is the starved pack—and you? You are but an unsuspecting doe, practically sacrificing yourself to his uncontrollable famine.

Those thick digits, adorned with callouses earned from laborious work, hastily push aside the fabric of your dress in search of your covered center. He feels so fucking good when those digits push their way past the hem of your panties and he gasps against the shell of your ear. Like it feels just as good to him, letting the pads of his index and middle finger tease the seam of your lips before slipping between and dragging those rough digits over your hardened clit. It’s all the built up want, longing, needing that makes him feel so other-worldly, you’ll never experience something like this, the rush of relief to finally be his.

His fingers dip lower, searching for the source of all this slick adorning his knuckles, when his thumb drags idly over your already sensitive clit. Its like an electric shock straight to your sternum, arching you forward in search of anchorage to this reality altering interaction. There's a hint of alcohol swimming behind your fluttering eyelids, but his shuddering groan is sickeningly sobering. You want to say something, tell him how good he makes you feel, but the words bubble up in your chest and hang in your throat in the form of a silent sob, your mouth hanging open and your toes curling against your shoes.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” Where the hell has this Joel been hiding? He’s never been so vulgar, so vocal and confident in himself. His fingers tease the soft ring at your opening, smearing slick around on his fingers when he leans against your front to press his face against your heaving chest and neck. His fingers plunge in—and your body jerks against his solid form. He lets you shudder and tighten up against him while his thumb moves steadily, never coming off the peak of your nerve—locked on it with such perfected percussion that there is no jerky catch, just steady—drowning pleasure. His rough pant of breath paints your shoulder in sticky warmth and your thighs tighten around him, begging to draw him into your desperation.

“She’s just cryin’ for me, ain’t she, Honey?” His drawl sounds like sweet tea on a hot summer afternoon, like your sight set on the Austin sunset from the seat of an old saddle, driving cattle through tall grass and endless horizons.

Being touched by Joel Miller feels like coming home.

He finds a steady pace, working his fingers in and out, each drag punctuated by the ridges of his knuckles and the rough pads of his finger tips. Just faintly, you can make out the wet sound your sex makes every time he fucks his fingers into you intentionally. Its instantaneous the way heat blooms in your pelvis, knotting up in your stomach until you’re so overwhelmed, you’re trembling in his grip. “She’s so fuckin’ greedy, pretty little cunt needs to be stuffed, don’t she? G’damn, you’re quiverin’—you gonna cum f’me already?” His words are like a dirty secret, never meant to be revealed—knowing exactly what kind of storm that truth would bring. Let the rain pour down, let the thunder crack and the gusts rip the apprehension from your bones—because Joel Miller wants you and you’ve been waiting for this moment for two years.

You’ve imagined this a million times, slipped your fingers between your legs to the mere idea of this revered and dignified southern gentleman—more once you’d put a face to the elusive cowboy. No matter how deeply you lost yourself to your imagination, none of it will ever amount to the way cold brick feels against your exposed back, the way denim jeans ruffs up the insides of your smooth thighs, the way a felt Stetson bumps against your temple when his fingers curl against a spot inside of you no man has ever found, dragging the air from your lungs, robbing your vocal cords of their melody. With your eyes rolled back and your desire strung tight, you manage to string together enough sound to produce words.

“Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum! Please!”

A third, assured finger slips in right beside the other two and slam forward, sending you spiraling down that one way path towards pure ecstasy. His fingers curl again and his thumb quickens, pushing you up and up until you’re sure you’re about to melt through his finger tips, a weeping puddle at his feet. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.”

His command is your saving grace, the final twist that undoes the well wound rope holding you together. A variation of his name rips from your throat and consumes the space around you, invoking a bright euphoria that shrouds every nerve ending you possess. He doesn’t even know what he’s just subjected your body to—a life altering experience that you will never be able to recreate with another person. “S…s’the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” is the only thing your mind conjures up once you’ve come down enough to speak. He’s still holding onto you, slowly slipping his fingers out and letting you down with a satisfied chuckle.

“Wunna taste you,”

How will you handle another assault from that honed attention? How will you ever unsee that unruly tousle of curls between your thighs?

He doesn’t give you long enough to form a protest before he’s rushing you through the parking lot, a determination in his step that you’ve never seen. He’s surpassed the point of antsy when he yanks open the passenger door and finds leverage on your hips to hoist you up, then toss you down on the torn upholstery. You should say something—tell him to slow down before you pass out from the burn of his hands—but fuck you don’t want him to stop, consciousness be damned.

Instead, you watch him set his cowboy hat on the dusty dashboard, the silver trim of the band shimmering with luster in the golden street lamps. He drinks your body in visibly, relishing in every curve and inhale of breath. When his vision finds yours, they are nearly black with desire—his pupils having consumed every inch of bourbony brown. When his big hands find your thighs again, the resistance bleeds away and gives way to insurmountable, greedy hunger.

“C’mere, girl.” The hands on your thighs dig into the flesh, leaving finger shaped dimples in your sensitive skin. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.” Jesus christ.

If your friends could see you now, they’d all laugh at how easy you are, but right now—it’s just you and your cowboy—you’ll never be anything but easy for him.

His hands move with fever, hastily pushing your dress up your hips. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” That same ferocious want consumes you, possessing your hands to work on their own accord, helping Joel shimmy your panties down your thighs and over your heels.

You have enough time to register the way he stuffs the black lace into the front pocket of his wranglers before that head of his is forcing its way under your dress. He spreads your legs easily, pushes and pulls with his hands until his mouth seals over your clit, drenching your nervous system in blinding heat.

He’s good, so good at this. His tongue slides through your dripping folds with a tedious, monotonous rhythm. He’s licking for a taste, for his own glutinous thirst based on the way he groans and sighs against the softness of your lips. His eyes flick up at the same time your body starts to quiver, trying to adjust to so much honed desire narrowed in on you. “J-Joel, please don’t st-top.” Your eyes start to leave his in favor of rolling back in your head when your chest arches out, searching for a breath of sobering air, for something to hold onto so you don’t crumble apart. “Feels so good—you feel so good.”

His mouth closes over you and he sucks, pulling your clit against the smoothness of his tongue as he flicks it over and over, soothing the sensitive bud, while actively robbing you of any coherent train of thought. The only sounds that leave your lungs are sharp gasps and whines, fueled by the low groaning sound he’s muffling between your thighs. He releases you and your body reels, drawing in breath after breath to catch up with your racing heart.

“Wunna split this little pussy open on me,”

Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck—fuck.

You have long enough to gaze down at him, watching as he slides the flat of his tongue through your lips, over the sensitive bud, before your head is dipping back again.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” you heave and he pulls away completely, shocking you into a mewling, whining mess. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body bares down on nothing, /wish he would just give it up already, unbuckle that belt, push down those wranglers and fuck you like you deserve. Joel grunts while he watches, letting it rumble through his whole body. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

His whole demeanor shifts, alternating from this brazen, confident cowboy to the man suddenly lost between your thighs, sucking and slurping, licking and moaning to himself. He’s gutless, starving and desperate, he whimpers when you squeeze your thighs and cry his name, holding on tight until the flash of blue and red and the sound of a loud voice rips him from his mission.

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

Joel rips himself away from your body before you even have a chance to cover yourself. “Fuck-fuck,” he looks around sharply, eying the lone officer in a tan blazer with flashing lights fastened to its hard top. The sheriff has a light in their hand, leaning over the side of the blazer. You manage to pull your dress down and scoot back, trying to hide yourself from the light shining on the two of you.

Joel's gaze falls away from the officer, parked behind the truck, blocking it in. Instead, he looks forward, into the clearing in front of the parking lot, half lit by the street lamp. His jaw clicks and he looks set on whatever is going through that big brain of his. “Put a seat belt on.”

What?

Joel grabs his hat and slides across the bench seat quickly, slamming the door behind him. He makes it across you and throws himself in front of the steering wheel, finding the ignition quickly to turn the keys in the shaft.

The chevy roars to life at the same time that he slams the gear shifter into drive and plows over the parking block. Before you have a chance to register what's happening, the blue pickup is sliding through mud and grass, leaving tire tracks in the field as he cuts through it towards the highway.

“Joel, what in the—fuck!“ you shout, reaching up for the oh-shit handle, while the other hand reaches for the solid form beside you, grasping him by the bicep as he snorts nervously. “Just—calm down for a second, we’ll lose ‘em.”

Your heart races and your nerves radiate through your entire body. You’re a good kid, you’ve never ran from the cops before, never been in trouble for crying out loud. You did your best in school, tried to make your parents proud despite your small side of rebellion. And yet, here you are—trying your best to hang on while he cuts corners and runs stop signs, old alleyways and back roads through the thickets. The truck roars past speed limit signs, loosing rodeo flyers pinned to telephone poles when he slams the gears—orange papers fluttering in the settling dust.

You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”

He snorts, taking another random left and speeding down the street. “Ain’t gonna get arrested, honey. Just trust me.”

Trust him? How could he even ask you that, like that wasn’t what this was all along. You trusted him like you trusted the sun to set and rise again, like you trusted the birds to sing and the rivers to run—you’d trusted Joel with your family’s dream and he never let you down.

Somewhere along the way, you lose the ability to fight off your grin, Joel manages to leave flashing red and blue in a cloud of dust. He cuts through a group of trees leading into a clearing and shuts off the lights. He drives by moonlight, effectively covering his tracks and making his way onto another road, leading up the mountain towards the ranch. He pulls off another dirt road that is cut out along the side of the hill, but he isn’t in as much of a hurry as he was before. He takes a last left, bringing the truck to the edge of the hillside that overlooks the entire town of jackson—from the dance hall—to the bar—to the red and blue set of lights on the south side of town, still looking for you and your cowboy.

The world grants you a few silent moments to catch your breath, before it completely robs you of tingling in your muscles, the conscious connection between the two of you. The reality of being truly alone with him is sobering, with nothing but the trees and the wildlife to offer a distraction.

Now that the air has cooled and your heart has finished pounding in your ears, you can make out the faint hum of the stereo, the FM dial lit up by the soft glow behind it. The station is still the same as it was when you were a girl, riding in your daddy’s pickup, playing old country music like it did in the days of your youth.

Now, it rings in your ears with the nerves seeping into your bones, settling into an uncomfortable dust. Right now, of all times? Anxiety has to claw up your chest and wrap around your throat while his saliva is still drying on the inside of your thighs?

Fuck, his beard is still glistening in the green-glow of the stereo.

“You’re starin’ at me.” He says almost quietly. You expected him to tease and flirt, maybe boast, but his voice waivers halfway through and you start to pick up on his slight nerve. Under all that charm and intensity is starting to give way to a much more vulnerable Joel—a man you know all too well.

“You’re just, uh—“ you swallow thickly and try to find the courage to meet his deep brown eyes. “Your beard is…wet.” When you do find his irises, his mouth picks up in a half smirk. If he’s as scared as you are right now, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. He’s giving it everything he’s got to hide it from you.

It’s been so long and you need this. Need to be touched, appreciated, worshipped.

The look in his eyes tells you that he’s eager to kneel.

“And who’s fault is that, hmm?” That sweet, sultry accent drags you in, sliding closer on the seat until you're nearly tucked into his side, leaned back against the seat while he looms over you. He’s still nervous, you can see it floating around in his dark eyes, but his jaw clicks like he’s trying to rein something in.

Silence falls upon you once more, but unbeknownst to the cicadas and the crickets, your dancing gazes say everything you need to hear. His eyes drop to your lips and yours to his. His tongue peaks out unconsciously, wetting his bottom lip ever so slightly—like he’s tasting you there.

His mouth clicks shut and it's then that you glance up. His eyes are back on yours, suddenly so much softer with a lulled arch to his eyebrows. In the depths of his eyes you find renewed hunger, fire burning in those pools of smooth chocolate. Your body relaxes, succumbs to the form of his plains of muscles adorning his body. When you tilt your head up to him in offering, you sink so deeply into those dark pools you can nearly taste the sweetness of him like velvety candy melting against your taste buds.

“Joel—“ you choke out, deciding then that if he waits a second longer you’ll suffocate.

There's things about this life that can never be stopped, inexorable phenomenons that are unavoidable. The seasons will always change. The storms will always come, lightning will always strike. The days will always end and the sun will rise again on the next.

And Joel Miller will always, always break when you say his name like that.

He falls into you with a sharp intake of breath, crashing his mouth against yours with surprising accuracy. It’s so easy to let him take over with the perfect combination of rush and savor he puts into the way he envelops you. His mouth is soft, but persistent, wrapping around your bottom lip when he sucks it between his teeth for a soft bite that makes you want to live in this moment forever.

You nearly do because you get absolutely lost in kissing him, you don’t protest when he leans you back on the bench seat, you don’t put up any sort of fight when he spreads your thighs with his wide hips. When his hands grip your knees, you know you’re completely done for.

He pulls away from your mouth and his eyes find yours in the low green glow and there, you find everything you’ve ever longed for.

“I…I think,” Joel shifts, looking down at his hands like he’s just woken up from sleep walking straight into your heart and soul. “I think I should get you home, s’gettin late.”

Late? Your poor muddled brain cannot keep up with how quickly he fades in and out of doing anything to have you, to be terrified to touch you. How quickly he slips into a starved desire to shaking in his boots.

Not for the first time, you wish you could reach right into his brain and pull out whatever it is that makes him think you don’t want those rough hands all over your bare body. He’s already had a taste of you, already kissed you—what more could be standing in his way?

“Home? Joel, we were just getting started—“ he clears his throat and sits up, trying to slide away from you but your heels dig into his tailbone and drag him back. “Started down a road we both know only leads to nothing but trouble and regret.”

What, the, fuck?

“I’m—you think this is a bad idea?”

The uncomfortable air settles back in between you and your legs around him loosen. “Think you're going to realize really quickly this ain’t what you want and this—I’ve got…too much on the line.”

He has too much on the line? What about the ranch? Your childhood home about to be lost to the bank? What about the dance hall where he’s built a new floor to make you smile? Does it all wash away with his assumed doom?

“What are you saying? This…this was a mistake? Joel I still have your fucking spit drying on my pussy and you—you regretted it already?” The realization feels like a dull blade straight to your gut, forcing it way in and twisting you from the inside out. It burns with shame and agony and you pull yourself out from under his sturdy build.

“I didn’t mean—I regret anything, fuck knows I don’t—“ no, no. You’ve given this man so much of yourself, committed so much to be thrown around and have your feelings stomped on.

“Then what the fuck does it mean, Joel! You—you made me cum while telling me you wanted to stuff my cunt but now you think this is…” you have a realization then, that maybe—just maybe, he does actually regret it. What does he think, you’d turn around and throw him out on his ass? If he truly thinks that low of you then maybe…

“This was a big fucking mistake.” You say coldly, making up your mind as you right your bunched up dress and adjust your fixed gaze on the passenger side window.

“Take me home.” It’s not a request.

It’s not an invitation, either, Joel understands as he watches you close the front door behind you later that night, settling his made up mind.

He presses his palm to his crotch twice and comes in his pants right there in the driveway, just like he knew he was going to.

And he feels like a fucking fool.

[accio-victuuri]

XZ’s GQ February issue candies 🍬

now that we all had the time to appreciate the lovely photos and videos from that cover & collab — which is honestly a whole meal on it’s own, now is the time for some sweets. 🫶🏼 nothing too extravagant, a few similarities and clues we have connected only. i think the best candy still is the fact that it’s now confirmed that zz & wyb both have a good relationship with gq. even rocco going as far as choosing xz to start having simultaneous cover releases with other countries. sit tight and wait for all the toxic narratives to be proven wrong. don’t sweat it. the road ahead is long. let’s enjoy life and support the boys! 🫶🏼

One thing i noticed, and was actually surprised about was WYB posting an ad for Super X as early as 8:00 AM. Tho he may post at 8:05, which is rare, he usually does ad posts at 10:00. The 8:05 is mostly done by the brands. We have talked about them trying their best not have work overlap, this is a minor one, but as soon as GQ posted at 9:30 i feel like i know what’s happening. Then it didn’t stop till 12:00 nn. It doesn’t help cause i’m clowning that the short film feature for this cover was assigned Chapter 8. WYB posted at 8, the full short film is 8. What a nice coincidence!

Knowing WYB is not a stranger to doing short films with GQ and their love for movies! It wouldn’t really surprise me now if GG does a full feature about LOCH with them. These two really chose the same publication to do exclusive for their projects 😌😌

the similarity that i love is them in the bathroom and then looking at the mirror. tho wyb’s are scenes from HB, these stills were first seen @ GQ.

there is a story here 👀👀

it’s nice too how GQ used ZZ’s photos and put them in the frames. what a nice touch! since this is essentially his dream 💭

+ peter pan pop up art book on the bed too!

overall, there is really not that much we can clown about when it comes to photos alone. tho what gg is wearing has an interesting story as shared by @rainbowsky here. some may say it’s the stylist and magazine’s choice but we still love seeing the association. In addition, the clothes were inspired by Nicole Kidman’s clothes in a Chanel perfume ad. i love the unconventional wedding dress choice here, it fits them! <3

moving on to the biggest way we can cpn tho is the interview & cover story.

i especially liked the questions, it wasn’t cutesy. it asked what needed to be asked.

here are some of the similarities i found with them and their outlook in life and career. 🤍

First of all, being professional is an unavoidable topic. You can have a non-major background, but you must have excellent professional skills. This is what I want to do, this is who I am. I feel that I am not enough, and i’m too far behind.

I think (improving acting skills) is a cumulative process. You can’t make a big step forward with just one movie. This is difficult for me to happen. So you have to keep filming, but you have to keep filming good films and don't consume yourself.

It’s the intent to be a better actor and the self awareness of not having that “background” people expect them to have. However, they can compensate by being professional. by being the hardest working person in the room. Sometimes I feel like it’s okay for them to praise themselves and not always be this critical, but i guess that’s what make them the best too cause they have high standards for themselves.

At present, I want to be an actor who makes the audience like you. Maybe everyone is not your fan, or even not particularly interested in you, but you know that he has a drama, Do you want to watch it? His dramas are all good. I want to do this. This is my current goal. Is it possible to become the actor I like? This is a rule.

THIS. This!!!!!! I feel like they both have this outlook. They don’t need every single person to be their “fan” but the goal is to become known and liked by the general public. That people are familiar with them as good actors with excellent works. It’s why there is absolutely no need to beat yourself up on who is the better fan. It doesn’t keep the boys up at night. Lol.

There are many. For example, Zhou Xun has always been my favorite actor.

Zhou Xun! Who has worked with WYB in various projects, primarily with Chanel! I hope ZZ gets to work with her too.

I used to take the subway every day. for me there’s nothing I can't do. What do you think I can do? Say hello and leave. It’s just that I don’t want to cause confusion and trouble for everyone or cause a bad reaction.

The two of them have the same intention of not wanting to cause trouble to the people. That means making sure their fans do not cause unnecessary public issues like gathering in certain places.

Everyone has their own boundaries, and some people have no sense of propriety. I stay away from such people, but when the boundaries are broken again and again and the bottom line is touched, I will get very angry.

Chongqing pepper is here! lol. I see them being very patient and understanding cause they know what people expect of celebrities. But they won’t also take things lying down. They will fight if need be.

In principle, I am a very rigid person. If I insist on something and I think it is right, it will be difficult to be convinced. For example, if I want to be an actor, I don’t want to do anything other than being an actor.

I just want to do it well, just try my best right now. Maybe the result is not good, but what should I do? This is all I can do.

Sounds familiar? Especially the part that says I want to do it well? They have the same braincell 🙃

Now let’s look at the cover story. First, i wanna point out the comment of the interviewer about ZZ: “Before meeting, I thought Xiao Zhan would be very cautious about interviews. To my surprise, Xiao Zhan had a rare sense of relaxation, answered all questions, and even had some humor.”

Which is actually a common misconception about XZ or — you know what? he was kind cautious before but as time goes by, he became more relaxed and candid with his answers. It’s still insightful, but not as practiced. In the Q&A, he mentioned that there are things that cannot be said. Setting boundaries like that. Similarly, WYB is the same. We’ve heard stuff saying that he is in a more relaxed state now. I love that for them!

I still sneak out to ride a bicycle, take a walk, and do a CityWalk. Only once, just now in after walking in the alley for 5 minutes, I was recognized. I also sneaked into the cinema to watch a movie. No one will care about you, really. after leaving the Internet, many things will be solved easily. Sometimes the world is right in front of us.

This goes out to everyone that says how can they go out? How are the CPNs of them spending time together be true? Well this is the answer. Sneaked into a cinema to watch a movie? I hope they do that together too ^^

When he goes to different cities, Xiao Zhan will bring the same type of pillows and quilts. "I will bring everything that can help me sleep well." He has also tried aromatherapy lamps, lavender essential oil, and various other products that make him fall asleep when applied on his body.

This is such an easy cpn for us. Remember that time DLS clowned WYB about the aromatherapy candles? HAHAHAHAHAHA!

-END.

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage January 2024 Issue ft. Kaku So Interview (translation below)

Publication: December 8, 2023 (between episodes 39-40)

"By any means necessary!"

Kaguragi Dybowski, lord of Toufu, the country of abundance, has the belief of, "We'll protect the country by any means necessary!"

Two years ago, as Gira and Racules Husty opposed each other, he cleverly used his words against the two of them. The king of N'Kosopa, Yanma Gast, accurately summed him up as, "Someone who's neither on one side or the other. However, he's trustworthy."

Kaguragi was just a simple farmer before ascending the throne, but 17 years ago, the death of Toufu's former lord, Iroki, was the turning point that changed him. Faced against Iroki, who was revived through the ability of Grodie, one of the Uchu Five Jesters, Kaguragi confronts her with the truth that she's been hiding in her heart. In order to protect Toufu's future, and hide the fact that Grodie mixed poison into Toufu's rice, Iroki plays the role of a villain who has monopolized the food supply, and attempts to entrust everything to Kaguragi. He is willing to get his hands dirty in order to protect his country and people. Kaguragi's way of being a lord was something he inherited from Iroki.

Kaguragi is once again determined to take the dirtiest road ahead. True to his words, while participating in the Royal Sentai's plan to recapture N'Kosopa, he cooperates with Racules, who has become a servant of the Uchu King. When Gira and Racules face each other again, who will Kaguragi lend his hand to?

-Kaguragi's humanity, brought out by his younger sister Suzume-

"King-Ohger has finally entered the fourth quarter (end of year broadcasts)"

Kaku: Wow, it all really happened so fast. When we were filming the pilot (episodes 1-5), it felt like a long time since I was nervous and unfamiliar with everything, but now, I enjoy the set so much that I think, "I don't want this to end" and, "I want to keep doing this for the rest of my life." The story is interesting, and I feel that I've been involved in a truly wonderful production. It was also good experience for me as an actor to play the same role for a year, and learn how to think about a character that's different from myself.

"Starting from the second chapter, there are more scenes where you interact with the other kings, but is there anything you consider to be important when expressing these relationships?"

Kaku: It was impressive that his relationship with Hymeno grew during the body swap episode, but even now, he doesn't have that many conversations with the other kings. I think there's more involvement with Racules. Still, I want to create a feeling that we're gradually getting closer, and that we acknowledge each other, rather than just being able to talk in a casual manner. Even now, the people of Toufu may still be the most important people for Kaguragi, but I think he's become the bigger man, someone who's concerned about the other countries and tries to protect the people living outside of Toufu. I'm mindful of such changes in Kaguragi.

"In the dialogue with Racules, who was mentioned earlier, the profound feeling that you wouldn't expect from Nichi Asa (Super Hero Time) became a hot topic."

Kaku: They're both planning something, and although they don't fully reveal their intentions, they're working together because they have mutual interests. His relationship with Racules is interesting to play, and it's alot of fun playing catch up with Yano-chan. As for Racules, there'll be more developments in the future that you can't afford to miss, so please continue to keep an eye on him.

"Other people who are closely related to Kaguragi include his younger sister Suzume and his retainer Kuroda. What do you keep in mind when interacting with them?"

Kaku: When in front of Suzume, I think it's his own fault that he can't help but show his true feelings of affection for his little sister. Kaguragi is surprised at how weirdly he's treated, and the feeling of being swayed by a younger sister who's different from Kaguragi's manipulative side I perform in a way that makes it look as funny as possible. Thanks to Suzume, I have the impression that Kaguragi's humanity has come out, and I feel very grateful for her character. As for Kuroda, when his name changed from "Kuroda-san" to "Kuroda" in episode 10, I asked Kanzaki Hajime-san, who plays Kuroda, "I wonder what the relationship is between the two of them." We've played our roles with the understanding that they've been friends for a long time, and when their pasts were revealed in episode 37, I thought, "So that's it."

"In the flashback scenes of episode 37, you played Kaguragi from the past."

Kaku: That's right. Because it was Kaguragi from before he became a backstabber, I was very careful about acting honestly. I actually wanted to lose some muscle for the role, but it was alittle too much to do in one or two weeks (laughs). For episode 37, the biggest surprise was the fact that Iroki was actually a good guy. In my mind, I imagined that Kaguragi was influenced by the people of Toufu and decided, "I have no choice but to do it myself" and killed Iroki. I didn't expect such a complicated backstory, so when I read the script, I was shocked. From the first movie in which Iroki appeared, the script's ability to draw out the words, "This was said there, so I can connect it this way" and bring them to a good Iroki was excellent.

"We think that Iroki reappearing in the first place was a surprise for many fans."

Kaku: I think it's really great that Iroki-san, or rather Hinagata Akiko-san has appeared again. I was nervous about us performing together, but it was alot of fun. I was fascinated by her range of acting, from the scary and bewitching Iroki, to the gentle and cute Iroki. I learned alot from her.

-Are Kaguragi's clothes incompatible with weapons?!-

"Please tell us about some of the most memorable interactions with Teramoto Shogo-san, who plays HachiOhger after the transformation."

Kaku: Even when he isn't playing HachiOhger, Tera-chan comes to the set to support me, so we often talk about Kaguragi and HachiOhger. Tera-chan is concerned about the height difference between us, so he tries to match my height by wearing platform boots. When I was worried that HachiOhger's fighting style didn't match Kaguragi's character, I said, "I like fighting styles that incorporate Japanese elements, so I want it to be performed like that." In episode 37, there was a scene where I consulted with Tera-chan about what kind of line delivery would be best. HachiOhger has some interesting movements. During the dubbing, I thought about whether I could do shouts that were different from the usual ones, such as "Un!" or "Hah!", so that viewers would pay attention to the action.

"In episodes 32 and 33, there were lengthy action scenes as Kaguragi, at that time, did you receive any advice from Teramoto-san?"

Kaku: Tera-chan came up with the idea for that sword fight! If I separate myself from HachiOhger's fighting style, I won't be able to maintain consistency, and I wanted to know how to make the action cool, so we had a close discussion about it. At first, I was worried and afraid that I might get hurt, so I couldn't attack my opponent or do a proper attack. However, Tera-chan taught me, "Your opponent's are also good at receiving attacks, so it's better to keep your arms fully extended," and I think that's how things turned out in the end.

"We remember being surprised when watching the broadcast, not thinking that you'd be able to perform such big, flashy movements in those clothes."

Kaku: Ah, well, I'm used to it (laughs). At that time, I remember being surprised that my wig came off during the action. Kaguragi's clothes have pretty long sleeves, and they often get caught on the OhgerCalibur, so they don't work well together. Especially when they get caught on KuwagataOhgers trigger (laughs). So, instead of simply slashing to avoid getting my sleeves caught, I performed parrying movements.

"Other than Kaguragi, if you had to choose your favorite character, who would it be?"

Kaku: It would be…..It's hard to choose one, since everyone including the retainers are good characters, I like them all. I watched the idol episode (episode 38), so I guess it's been Rita recently. That difference is too good…..I'm now wondering how the viewers will react to that episode (it hasn't aired at the time of this interview). What will they think when watching……because I'm exhausted just trying to pick it apart (laughs).

"That episode is the one where everyone is reading too much into Rita's behavior (laughs)."

Kaku: That's true, I wonder what the truth is. I think it'll be an interesting episode with that in mind. Ah, but, since idol Rita will appear in the preview during the upcoming Toufu episode, they'll be the one taking over the Twitter trends……poor Kaguragi……in that case, I won't pick Rita as my favorite character (laughs). I'll choose Yanma, who's a cool guy from a man's point of view, and someone you can leave things to with peace of mind.

"Let's go with that (laughs). Please tell us about some of the most memorable episodes that have been broadcast so far."

Kaku: For me, it's episode 37, I have no choice but to mention the Toufu episode. The story is about Iroki and Kaguragi's past, and how Kaguragi became lord. Kaguragi's been hiding what happened between him and Iroki for a long time, and thought he was going to have to live with it, but he unexpectedly found an opportunity to settle his feelings thanks to the enemy Grodie. Past Kaguragi’s efforts were paid off, and I feel very thankful for this episode. It was a very tiring role for me to play though (laughs). Man, it was difficult!

"It was an important episode because it told the story of Kaguragi's very being."

Kaku: At first, I thought of a performance plan to act in such a way that Kaguragi himself would be at a loss. However, Director Kazuya Kamihoriuchi told me, "It'd be better if you don't show emotion," so I went with his direction. As a result, I think the character of Kaguragi shined more brightly, and I have nothing but gratitude for the Director.

"Finally, please tell us about some future highlights."

Kaku: From this point on, it's a series of twists and turns, and the fate of Gira and Racules and the hotly anticipated development showing a resolution will be portrayed! Fans of the two of them shouldn't miss it, and Kaguragi will also be playing a very "standard" role among them. I encourage you to watch until the final episode!

_

Question to Masato Yano-san! (Racules Husty's Actor)

During the times when he's Shugo Mask, even though Yano-chan's mouth is sticking out, why does he make breathing sounds, or rather, have a raspy voice? (laughs). When he took off the mask, there were even some clicking sounds (laughs). I would like to ask Yano-chan, "What do you think?" in regards to the mechanics of it. Also, as I mentioned in the cast blog on the official site, there was a round of applause after Racules's speech scene, and it felt like everyone was in attendance. I would like to once again say, "Welcome home" and "I'm so glad you're back." (-Kaku)

Questions from Hirakawa Yuzuki-san! (Rita Kaniska's Actor)

Q: How does Kaguragi sneak around without anyone noticing? How do you think he takes care of his long silky hair?

In addition to the optical camouflage of his haori, I guess he also studied the art of tip toeing and other ninja skills. He's also good at disguises. Honestly, I really don't know (laughs). In my opinion, Kaguragi's hair has a rough, permed look to it, and I believe that he grew it out intentionally to give off the dignity of a lord. If he were to take care of it, I feel like he'd leave it up to the people clad in black while he soaks in the bathtub. Kaguragi doesn't seem to take care of his own hair (laughs). (-Kaku)

[m-jelly]

The bunny's keeper - Chapter 8

@ladycheesington <3

Levi x fem! reader.

Modern AU, fluff, romance, falling in love, Levi has tattoos and piercings, bad boy Levi, protective Levi, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of weapons.

Levi and Erwin have a final showdown with the last of Mr Seymore's gang. Levi returns to you and finds you covered in blood, cops everywhere and a dead man. After being treated at the hospital you tell the two detectives you're friends with along with Levi what happened when you fought for your life.

Massive thank you to @ladycheesington for helping me flesh this story out and helping with the side plot of Erwin and how the gang started <3

The end

Levi cupped your face in his loving hands. “Be good.”

“Be safe.”

“I promise.” He kissed you and sighed. “Keep the door locked, okay? Do not open the door for anyone.”

You hugged Levi tightly. “I will be good.” You squeezed him. “Please, please be careful.” You welled up. “This is the first gang war you’ve been in.”

He squeezed you harder. “I know. I’m a little scared too, but we’ll pull through this. This is a desperate last attempt from Seymore. We’ll win, don’t worry. I’m very skilled and we have all those old vets who work for me.” He released you. “It’ll be okay.”

You took his hands and showered them with kisses. “I have something for you before you leave.”

“Mm?”

You hurried over to a bag and looked into it and found what you were looking for. “Ah! Got it.” You stood before Levi and presented a small box to him. “I bought this for you.” You opened the box to reveal a simple black ring. “A ring.”

Levi blushed hard. “An engagement ring?”

You nodded. “That’s right. I have mine and I want you to have one, so we’re always connected.” You hummed a laugh. “We have these rings until we get married and we have new ones.”

Levi took the ring and slipped it on. “It’s perfect.” He pulled you close and kissed you. “Thank you. This will keep me strong today.”

You giggled. “It’s not a magic ring.”

“It is to me.”

“You’re adorable.”

He kissed your cheek. “I’ll be off now.”

You walked him to the door. “I’ll have a delicious homemade pizza for you when you get home. We also have ice cream.”

Levi grinned. “Exciting! I’ll see you soon.” He left the apartment with a spring in his step. He admired the ring you gave him and smiled. “Engaged…” He kissed the ring before walking to the meeting spot. “Erwin.”

Erwin turned to Levi. “You ready for this?”

Levi hummed. “I am.”

He looked over at his gang preparing. “From my calculations, these are the last of his gang. We’ve bought out most. It’s like a last-ditch attempt.”

Levi released a long sigh. “Something feels…off.”

Erwin let out a deep hum. “I agree. I’ve tried everything. My spies can’t find a hidden ploy at all.”

Levi’s eye twitched a little. “Let’s get this over and done with.” Levi cracked his knuckles when he saw a car pull up. “I have a date with my wife.”

Erwin laughed. “Fiancée.”

Levi showed off his ring. “Wife.”

Erwin smiled a little. “So, she gave you an engagement ring, huh? Cute.”

“Right?”

Erwin pulled out his knuckle dusters. “I’m going to ask Kay to marry me.”

Levi patted Erwin on the back. “You’re an incredible couple. You’re perfect for each other.” Levi looked ahead as a man sprinted towards him with a knife. “Tch, pathetic.”

With a graceful twist of his body and a flick of his leg, Levi kicked the man’s hand causing the knife to fly up into the air. Levi turned his body and caught the knife as it was coming down. With impressive speed, Levi moved behind him and cracked the back of his neck with his hand. The charging man was instantly knocked out and collapsed to the floor.

Levi flicked his wrist and launched the knife into another man’s thigh. He hurried over before jumping and kicking the knife out causing it to tear through flesh and release a fountain of blood. Levi’s long fingers wrapped around the man’s neck. With all his impressive strength he lifted the man, launched him across the road and slammed down on the car he arrived on.

To Levi’s side was Erwin throwing most of his weight into a punch and knocking a man flying. The power behind Erwin’s punches was always impressive to Levi. Erwin had thick muscle with power behind hits. Levi had speed, flexibility and a mean kick. The two of them right now as they faced off against Seymore’s men were a force to be reckoned with. They were a danger to every single person who dared stand against them.

Levi scooped up a discarded bat from the floor as the people he trained to fight ripped apart the enemy. He flicked the bat up and hit the bottom of a man’s chin and watched his body launch up at the sheer force of it. The bat whistled as it spun around in Levi’s hand. A groan emitted from it when he gripped it hard. With a slight turn of his body, Levi swung hard and smacked another enemy away from him.

As the fighting continued, a few things were becoming clear. Erwin’s gang was winning this fight easily; this city would finally be his and he could get justice for his father. The other thing was that Francis Seymore was nowhere to be seen, and that concerned Levi. When the fight was coming to an end, Levi’s observation ate away at him.

He moved through the downed men and growled. “Tch, where is he?”

Erwin panted a little. “Who?”

Levi looked around more. “Francis Seymore.”

Erwin frowned as he processed the words, his mind was so stuck in fight mode that now he was coming to his logical senses. “You’re right. I would have thought he’d come here to face us.”

“This…concerns me.”

Erwin pulled out his phone and called Kay. “Call your fiancée.”

Levi nodded and yanked his phone out. He called your phone and all it did was just ring. Levi knew you were home because you were making pizza. Part of Levi persuaded himself that maybe you’d gone for a shower, or that your hands were too dirty from making pizza. He paced a bit and tried your number over and over to get through to you.

Erwin released a long sigh. “Kay, you’re okay. Are you home alone still?” He looked over to Levi. “You are? Okay. I was checking as Seymore wasn’t here. I love you, okay? I have to go. I’ll be home soon.” He ended the call. “She’s not with Kay.”

Levi called you again. “Come one Bunny.” He gasped when someone picked up. “Bunny!?”

A male voice answered. “Levi Ackerman? It’s Detective Ramiro.” It was one of the detectives Erwin and Levi worked with. “You need to come back home, there has been an incident.”

Levi’s blood ran cold. He turned and started running with Erwin calling for him. Levi ended the call and just sprinted as Erwin chased after him. Panic throbbed through Levi. All he could think about was he should have been home with you. He remembered your sweet smile, lips, laugh, moans, and parting words.

“No.” Police cars and ambulances were parked outside the apartment block, along with a crowd of nosy people gathering. Levi moved through everyone and reached the front to see Detective Green, the other detective they worked with. “What happened?”

Green shook his head. “It doesn’t look pretty, but I want to assure you that everything is under control. There has only been one casualty.” He lifted the tape. “Come with me, we need your help. Erwin, Ramiro will want to talk to you.”

As Levi followed Green he noticed a body on the floor and blood around them, it was a clear sign they had fallen from a great height. His heart raced, but as soon as he saw the body and face it was a man, which meant you were the survivor in this. Levi was relieved but still needed to see you and hold you in his arms.

Erwin walked next to Levi. “Green? What the hell happened here?”

Green took them into the lift. “The deceased outside seems to have had a confrontation with Levi’s Mrs. I will warn you both, the apartment makes it look very grim.”

Erwin gripped his dear friend’s arm. “Levi? She’s alive, okay? He said only that man out there died. She’s alive.”

Green nodded. “She is alive. Ramiro knows more about her than I do.” He walked down the hall to the broken-down door to reveal bullet holes everywhere, the window to the fire escape smashed to pieces, food in the kitchen all over the floor, furniture broken and blood. There was so much blood that it was terrifying to look at. “Ramiro?”

Ramiro walked over and nodded. “Levi, I need you to come with me. Your fiancée is on the roof and she won’t let anyone near her. I need you to talk her down as she clearly needs medical attention.”

Levi’s eyes widened. “Clearly? Does she look that bad?”

Ramiro pulled a little face. “I won’t lie to you, Levi, she doesn’t look good. She’s been asking for you. Erwin, we’ll chat later. Priority is getting this lady off the roof.”

Levi carefully walked through his broken apartment to the fire escape. He saw blood on the railing up the stairs. He avoided touching anything and followed the detective up onto the roof. As soon as he arrived he saw the trail of blood and a mark where the man had fallen off. A little further down was you in the corner of the roof soaking in blood and pointing a shard of glass at police and paramedics.

Levi raced over to you and shouted your name. “Bunny!”

Hot tears ran down your cheeks. “Levi?”

He slowed down and approached you cautiously. “It’s me. Darling bunny, put the glass down, okay? You’re hurt and these people want to help you.”

You whimpered. “I’m tired.”

“I know, bunny, I know.”

You shook on the spot. “I’m sorry the pizza was ruined.”

He chuckled and moved right in front of you. “It’s just pizza. We’ll make more another time.”

“I made the place a mess.”

He reached over and caressed your cheek. “We’ll buy a new place. It’s all okay now.” He smiled softly at you. “Drop the glass.”

You shook a little then let all your strength leave you. You released the glass and sobbed. “It hurts.”

Levi scooped you up into his arms. “It’s okay. I’ll make the pain go.”

You cried hard. “Levi.”

He ran over to the paramedics. “I’m going to lie you down, okay? The paramedics will fix you up.”

You gazed up at Levi. “O-Okay.”

“I’ll be right here.” He caressed your cheek as a team rushed around you. “I love you.”

You smiled at him. “I love you, always.”

Levi looked up at the paramedics as they called out your wounds, the more he heard the more panic he felt. The damage done to you was concerning Levi, he couldn’t believe you were alive and breathing right now. He was impressed by how strong you were, but he knew that his protection of you would increase after you were patched up. He understood you might get a little bit mad at him but he had to protect you at all costs.

He stood up and held your hand as they moved you and soon placed you in the back of an ambulance. He smiled as you talked weakly with the paramedics about your love for Levi. It made Levi’s heart melt that even when you were bleeding and possibly on death’s door, you could not stop talking about Levi.

Levi leaned over you and kissed your clean cheek. “Darling bunny, you should rest. You’re hurt badly.”

You smiled at Levi. “You’re so handsome.”

“Thank you.”

You reached up and wiped Levi’s tears. “Don’t cry. I’m fine.”

Levi sniffed. “Bunny.”

“I’ll have to be nursed to health and I’ll have cute scars. You can help, right?”

Levi laughed through his tears. “Yeah, I’ll look after you.”

The paramedics went through what they did for you to the doctor. “We’ll look after Mr Ackerman.”

Levi watched you be wheeled away. “She’ll be okay, right?”

The paramedic patted Levi’s back. “She will. She’s an incredible fighter.” He waved a nurse down and explained what happened. “Could you make sure he sees her after?”

The nurse nodded. “I’ll take care of Mr Ackerman.” She smiled at Levi. “You and Mr Smith are doing incredible things for this city. We’ll make sure she’s okay. We’ll do everything we can for her.”

Levi let her guide him to a place where he could change his clothes and then take a seat. It felt like time was dragging on. The pain in Levi’s heart was overwhelming. He looked up when a doctor made his way over. Levi rose to his feet. “Is she okay?”

The doctor smiled. “She’s doing great. The surgery went amazing and she’s recovering now. You can go to her room.”

Levi shot to his feet and ran down the hall as the doctor shouted your room number. “Bunny!” He shoved your door open making a nurse jump and scream. “Bunny!” He blushed. “S-sorry nurse.”

She giggled. “It’s okay, everyone knows how much you love her. She’s doing good. She’ll be asleep for a while because of the drugs.”

He sat down and held your hand. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

“She’s like a bunny.”

Levi showered your hand with kisses. “You’re right. My precious little bunny.”

Time didn’t seem to exist to Levi as he sat by your side. Erwin and Kay arrived for a bit and made sure Levi ate something and drank. While Erwin and Kay were cuddled up sleeping you began to move and mumble. Levi leaned on the bed and looked at your face. He carefully caressed your cheek to wake you up slowly. A loving smile spread over his lips when you opened your eyes.

You smiled at Levi. “Grumpy. You’re so handsome.”

Levi chuckled. “Thank you, bunny.”

You reached up and pulled your oxygen mask off. “Better. Now, give me a kiss.”

Levi leaned over and kissed you. “You’re adorable.”

You hummed a laugh then winced a little. “Could you help me sit up?”

He pressed the button on your bed. “Slowly.” He sighed. “There we go.”

You sighed. “Better.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“I would love some food and something to drink.”

Erwin inhaled deeply as he woke up. “Mm, Kay and I can get that.” He smiled at you. “Welcome back.”

You smiled. “Good to be here.”

Kay welled up. “You’re a badass! What can we buy you?”

“Burger and fries, maybe a milkshake?”

Erwin pulled Kay close into a hug. “We’ll get that. Be right back.”

Levi gave his order then sat on your bed and held your hands. He released a long shaky sigh. “You scared me.”

You smiled a little. “I scared myself.” You shook a little as tears ran down your cheeks. “I thought I was going to die.”

Levi wrapped his arms around you. “Poor bunny. I’m here now, okay? I’m here.”

“I kept thinking of you the whole time.”

“That’s my brave bunny.” He pulled back and sighed. He glanced over at the door to see Green and Ramiro. “Gentleman.”

Ramiro smirked. “The troublemaker is awake.”

You giggled. “You’d be bored if I didn’t cause trouble.”

Levi frowned. “You two close?”

You smiled at Levi. “Well, since helping your little group out I’ve been chatting to your connections. I have a good friendship going with the detectives and the mayor.”

“You’re incredible.”

You waved at Green. “Hey Green, the baby doing okay?”

He nodded. “She’s perfect. Sleeping better.”

You pointed at Green. “He had a baby with his wife about two months ago.”

Levi looked over at Green. “What’s it like?”

Green smiled. “Lots of sleepless nights, but I love being a father. She is incredible and I keep crying over how cute she is.”

“I look forward to being a dad.” Levi gazed at you. “That’s if you…”

You gasped. “I do!”

Levi blushed hard. “Wonderful.”

Ramiro moved over and sat down. “I hate to break this moment, but we need to talk about what happened.”

You fiddled with your blanket. “I uh…I’m nervous to say what happened.”

“Why’s that?” He noticed you kept glancing over at Levi. “Ah, the fiancé.”

Levi whined. “I’ll keep quiet. I promise.”

You released a long sigh. “Okay.”

You felt your heart drop as soon as Levi left the apartment. A tiny whine left you, you felt like a dog being left behind by its master. A huff escaped you when your emotions changed. You pouted and turned to the kitchen area and started thinking about what to make. You did say ice cream, but you were thinking maybe brownies mixed in would be good.

You pulled on your apron with bunnies all over - gifted by Levi – and began making a nice small batch of brownies. Soon you were smiling and humming a little song to yourself. Once everything was baking, you started to prepare everything for a pizza night. You were thinking that maybe you could turn tonight into date night. After a cute date, you wanted to ride Levi all night.

A light knock at the front door made you frown. You weren’t expecting anyone and you hadn’t ordered a thing. Plus, Levi hadn’t been gone long so it was unlikely that he had finished the fight. You took your apron off and moved to the front door. You paused a moment and waited with a small hope that they wouldn’t knock again, but they did and a lot louder.

You put the chain on and then unlocked the door to peek out. You frowned as you stared at a man. “Can I help you?”

He grabbed the doorframe and leaned closer as he said your name. “That’s you, right?”

You gulped hard. “No, she’s out. I’m her friend.”

He pulled out his phone and tapped on it. He smirked and looked back at you. “You’re her. I’ve come on the orders Mr Seymore.”

“I don’t want anything to do with him. Please leave.”

He chuckled as he shook his head. “It’s not that simple. Look missy, he said to bring you to him. I do my job.”

You gripped the door a little. “What are you saying?”

“I do my job and I do it well.” He leaned closer. “I will take you back to him no matter what the cost is.”

You slammed the door on his hand and then the door shut. “Fuck off!” You pressed your hands against it. “I’m not interested! I am engaged.”

The man huffed. “Open the door. I don’t want to do this the hard way.”

“Kiss my ass!” You shifted a little. “Levi will come back here and rip you a new one!”

“No, he won’t. He’s too busy with the distraction.”

You whined a little. “I’m not letting you in! The door is locked and chained. You’re not getting in.” You heard a pop and then the chain locking the door shattered. Your body flinched when something hit you just below your collarbone. You looked down and saw blood trickling from a hole. “F-Fuck.” You stumbled back from the door and saw the lock and handle splinter. Your body flinched when something hit your body right above your pelvis. You stumbled back and bumped into the kitchen counter. “A-Ah…”

He kicked the door clean off and sighed. “Damn woman.” He stared at you and saw you were bleeding. “Shit, well those can be patched up.” He walked closer to you. “Now, stop playing around and come with me.”

You smirked a little and started laughing. “Never.” You whipped your arm and fist towards him with a knife clenched tightly in your hand. You plunged the blade into his cheek and through his mouth. You tried to yank the knife out, but it was stuck. “Fuck.” You let it go and searched for another weapon.

The man flicked his gun up and fired multiple times in his state of pain. One went right through your thigh and the other into your lower back to the side of your spine. He dropped the gun and grabbed the knife. “NNGH!” He grabbed your hair and tugged you away from the counter. “You bitch!”

You reached behind you and clawed at his face. You found where the knife had entered his face, looped two fingers in and pulled hard making him scream. As soon as you were released dropped to the floor, crawled over to Levi’s stash and found his knife. You pulled it free just as the man stormed over to you. You turned and stabbed him over and over in the legs to take him down.

He cried out in pain and kicked you in the chest sending you to the floor. He huffed and grabbed your ankle then dragged you across the floor. “You are just what Mr Seymore needs in his life. He’s always had weak women, but you’re strong.”

You opened your eyes as you were dragged. You looked around and saw his dropped gun. You grabbed it and pointed up at him and fired, but it clicked over and over. “Shit.”

The man stopped and looked down at you. “Ran out, sugar tits.”

You growled and threw it hard. The gun collided with his face right on his nose. You watched as blood gushed from his nose. You pushed yourself up and grabbed the coffee table. You screamed in pain and you swung and broke it over the man’s head. You shoved him back and then kicked him through the window.

You dropped to your knees and winced in pain. You saw the man moving a little as sirens rang out, your neighbour must have called for help for you. You stumbled closer to the man and grabbed the biggest shard of glass you could get causing your hand to be cut up. You raised it high but he grabbed your neck and squeezed hard.

He snarled at you causing blood to ooze out of his mouth. “You just need to pass out.”

You stabbed the glass into his arm as much as you could until he let you. You stumbled up the stairs and made your way to the roof. You tripped over the wall and fell onto your side. “Ah.”

The man clambered up the stairs and onto the roof. “UUUURGH!”

You swiped at him to get him to go away. When he backed up you swiped again and kept moving towards him. “Don’t touch me!”

He backed up more and grunted. “You.”

You swiped again. “Don’t!”

His legs hit the back of the wall, his eyes widened a moment and a fleeting look of desperation came but then it was gone once he knew you were not going to risk your life to save him. He fell backwards off the roof and continued falling until he collided with the floor below. It didn’t take long for the light in his eyes to fade away.

You looked over the edge and felt happy he was dead, but you knew that someone else would come for you. You backed up to a corner and watched the exits, there was no way in hell you would let Seymore have you. Marrying Levi and having children with him was all your heart wanted. You heard shouting and people talking. The noise got louder and a few people rushed up the stairs.

You saw they were police and medics, but Erwin had bought out people like them so there was a chance Seymore had too. You waved the glass around. “Levi!? Levi!?” You shook a little. “Levi?”

You were there for what seemed like a while until Levi came charging up the stairs. It scared you at first that you willed the man you loved to appear but as he moved closer while talking to you it made you happy. You stopped being scared and let Levi take care of you.

Levi put his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

Green stared at Levi. “Mr Ackerman. Please don’t do anything.”

You gripped Levi’s hand. “Grumpy, I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Levi clenched his jaw. “I just…”

Ramiro sighed. “Mr Seymore could have an accident before he is handed over to us.” He locked eyes with Levi. “You know, like some of the other people you’ve brought us.”

“Thank you.”

You showered Levi’s hand with kisses. “I love you.”

Levi leaned over and kissed you. “I love you so much.”

You hugged Levi’s arm. “You’re a good man.”

“I try.”

Ramiro stood up. “We’ll head out and let you rest. You’re incredible, trouble. Be proud.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

Green waved bye to you. “See ya soon.”

Levi played with your hair. “You’re so strong.”

You played with the blanket. “I did my best.”

Levi wrapped his arms around you and held you. “You are amazing.”

“You’re flustering me. I don’t know what to say.”

Levi kissed your cheek a few times. “We need to find a new place to live.”

You pouted a bit. “Can we afford it?”

“Of course.” He smiled at you as he pulled out his phone. “While you’ve been healing and passed out, Erwin has been working hard.” He showed you his bank. “Look how much we have.”

You welled up a bit. “That’s so much. I can’t believe it.”

Levi kissed the side of your head. “We’ll have a wonderful home outside the city that has plenty of rooms for our kids.”

You gasped. “Yes! Can I get a puppy too?”

He gazed at your pleading eyes. “No puppy.”

You whined. “Okay…

“I’ll get you a guard dog instead. You need to be protected.”

You squealed in delight. “Yay! Thank you.” Levi looked up to see Erwin and Kay return. “Dinner’s here.”

[bubbiethesaur]

Dancing part 3—chapter 8 spoilers for Long Road Ahead below

Someone else wanted a dance too

[ID: Colored sketch of y/n and Eclipse dancing. Eclipse is dipping an angry and unwilling y/n and holding them tightly by the thigh, back, and head with their last clawed hand extended. y/n is glaring up at Eclipse. Eclipse is wearing dark formal slacks and a light red shirt and is grinning down at y/n with a sharp-toothed smile. y/n is wearing a yellow tank top and blue jeans, is barefoot, and has a grey abstract sun tattoo on their left shoulder. End ID]

[avacoleman]

when the lights go out || a firstprince fic

summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either.  After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man.  As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.

chapter 8/8 || rated e || read on ao3 final word count: 56.7k

Epilogue New York, NY Four months later  FROM SCREEN TO THE PAGE TO THE BROADWAY STAGE, ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ PROVES HE HAS THE RANGE! Vulture excerpt The Crescent Valley star’s memoir, The ABC’s of ACD, debuted at number four on the New York Times bestsellers list. With an honest look at his start in Hollywood with the role that launched him into the public eye, Claremont-Diaz’s memoir has since been dubbed a must-read for fans of the hit show and beyond. Revered for its sheer candor and care as he opens up about his sexuality, Claremont-Diaz’s memoir has struck a chord with many in the LGBTQIA+ community. Claremont-Diaz received an overwhelming show of support online from fans, many of whom have shared personal testimony that the actor’s coming out inspired them to do the same with their loved ones. It’s an honor Claremont-Diaz doesn’t take lightly.

“From the outset when dreaming about putting my story out there, I always hoped to touch at least one person, as cheesy or cliche as that might sound.. To make that kind of connection, to show them that they aren’t alone, that what they’re feeling is not only valid, but that their truth is worth living? That’s everything. Every single comment online or message that I get from someone in a similar situation feels like armor each day. I carry that with me.”

Following a two-week tour for the book’s promotions, there are no signs of Claremont-Diaz slowing down. The actor is now gearing up to add another first on his resumé. 

As mentioned in his book and previous interviews, Claremont-Diaz once did stagework as a child in Austin. These days, however, he’s finding the scale just a tad bit bigger.

“Stage was one of my first loves. It feels right to be returning to it. I couldn’t have guessed it’d be in such a major way though. Broadway,” the actor said, a clear wonder in his voice. “It’s so surreal. I still can’t believe it’s happening. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to make sense of that.”

According to sources, the bright lights of the Great White Way aren't the only thing calling Claremont-Diaz to New York City.

When asked about sightings of him with boyfriend writer Henry Fox around the Big Apple as he prepares for opening night, Claremont-Diaz only offered his signature smirk and kept tight-lipped on any details of how the two met. Though the timeline is unclear of when they initially crossed paths, one thing is for certain: They appear to be in it for the long haul.

Claremont-Diaz has been an outspoken advocate for Fox’s debut novel which is set for release next spring.

With his focus now set on embarking on a new chapter in his career, Claremont-Diaz seems assured about the road ahead, even as he settles into a brand new city in order to complete his show run.

“New York is the place I need to be right now,” he replied simply. “Everything I love most in the world can be found right here. I couldn’t ask for anything more than this.”

[crazyunsexycool]

Unbreakable

Photos found on unsplash (expect for the quote and Steve picture which I got on google)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Most people cried with pure grief the day of the blip. Not you, your tears were from relief. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d be so close to death. Yet you survived. The road ahead would be long but if you survived your ex this would be a walk in the park.

Steve was doing everything he could to stop himself from drowning in guilt. He wasn’t Captain America anymore but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help. With the Avengers behind him and half of his friends gone he didn’t know what to do with himself. So he ignored his feelings in order to help others.

A chance encounter at a support group meeting might just be what you both need.

Trigger warning: this series will deal with domestic abuse and sexual assault. In no way is it romanticing it. Please remember you are responsible for your own media consumption. Minors do not interact.

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 8

summary: Javier wanted to show you a good time and take you to the farmers market. Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated how much attention you both would get in such a busy place.

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

rating: E (18+!!! Soft!Javier Peña (like so soft and sweet), Car sex, unprotected P in V (wrap it up!), creampie, hand job(s), dirty talk, praise, body worship, (1) bite, feelings, lots of kissing, fluff, teasing, Protective!Javi, Protective!reader, emotions, small town drama, feelings of insecurity, food mentions, whirlwind romance.) If I missed anything, please dm me!

word count: 16k+ (I’m sorry! A lot happens!)

A/N: Hello! I finished the full chapter, and I think it’s better all together, so here it is, and I hope you like it! There was a lot to cover, which is why it’s so long. Thank you so much for the continued support and loving these two! It means the world to me! ❤️❤️❤️ I don’t know how many chapters this whole fic will be, but we’re not even halfway through my outline. So, still, more to come! I do have a Spotify playlist for this story on the series masterlist if you wanna check that out. As always, this is dedicated to my bestie @juletheghoul and thank you to my incredible beta @invisibleismyname.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated and I do my best to respond to them all!

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It was a beautiful morning, the sky clear and blue. Javi was driving his truck, you sitting in the passenger seat, holding his hand on your thigh, heading to the farmers market. An oldies station was softly playing, and the air conditioning was cranked high to stave off the already considerable heat outside, even though it was only nine in the morning.

You were excited to spend the day with him and see more of the town. Your first week in Laredo mainly consisted of getting your apartment figured out, starting your new job, and learning where places were. You hadn’t gotten to really explore, and now you had an inside man to show you the spots worth visiting, and Javi said the market was one of them.

You weren't entirely sure why there was a nervous fluttering in your tummy. Maybe it was because you ran into his ex the last time you’d gone out in public for a date, and she unceremoniously spilled his secrets. You didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable like that again, and he’d told you that practically the whole town knew who he was and about his checkered past. You didn’t care what anybody thought about you or your relationship, you were happy, and that was all that mattered—what would bother you, was if anyone decided to do what Lorraine did at the restaurant and put Javi into a situation like that again.

You squeezed his hand in yours, so big and warm, engulfing your smaller one.

He looked over at you, wearing his aviator sunglasses and smiling.

You were willing to fight an entire town for this man.

You wouldn’t let anyone be disrespectful to him, and you knew he could stick up for himself—he was an adult man almost in his forties and had been dealing with this for years—but he was your boyfriend, your partner, and you knew he’d do the same for you. You had each other's backs; you were positive of that.

“What are you wanting to get?” He asked, eyes moving back to the road. “I know you wanted flowers.”

You smiled.

“Someone has spoiled me with flowers.”

He chuckled, looking at you again.

“And I’ll keep spoiling you,” he said with a wink.

You giggled, bringing his hand up to kiss the back of it.

“Probably fruits and veggies for sure. I’ll have to see what else there is.”

“I’ll get you whatever you want.”

You laughed.

“You’re not paying for my stuff. That’s ridiculous.”

He was staring straight ahead, and you saw his mouth turn down in a frown. He glanced over.

“I want to,” he said a little quieter, and your heart clenched.

“You may purchase a couple of reasonably priced items,” you said.

He smiled again, nodding.

“Okay.”

You chatted a little more, and before long, the truck was parked, and the two of you were walking hand in hand down the sidewalk.

The farmers market was located downtown in a large park. Big leaf-covered trees towered beside the wide concrete paths that the booths lined the edges of, and red brick retaining walls separated the grass from the walkways. It was a beautiful park, notably very green with the contrast of the red bricks.

The place was already busy, and you’d never seen so many people in one place the whole time you’d been in Laredo.

You saw Javi stiffen out of the corner of your eye, his hand tightening around yours, and immediately you were moving into his side and hugging his arm against you.

You looked up at him, his lips in a straight line, jaw clenched.

“You okay?” You asked.

He looked down at you, and you saw his eyes soften a little behind the darkened lenses.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” he said, squeezing your hand again, his attention moving back to your surroundings. He said the words, but you didn’t quite believe them, making you frown.

The two of you should have been lost in the crowd of people—just one insignificant couple amongst dozens of others, and yet you saw the curious looks and heard the whispers as you both walked by, catching mentions of Javi’s name. He hadn’t been joking about everybody knowing about you; the townspeople were apparently a bunch of gossips.

You stopped at the first stall advertising farm fresh eggs at a very reasonable price, the person manning it greeting you with a big smile and nodding at Javi, their attention moving to new people that walked up next to you.

Javi leaned down.

“You want some of these?” He asked quietly.

You tipped up on your toes so your face was closer to his ear when you whispered for only him to hear.

“We do need the extra protein with the way you fuck my brains out. It’s like you’re determined to wreck my pussy.”

He sucked in a breath so hard he choked on his spit and started coughing, covering his mouth with his arm.

Your free hand rubbed against his chest.

“Sorry!” You said.

He calmed down after some seconds, his face a little red and eyes wet.

Javi got the attention of the person who greeted you.

“Three dozen, please,” he said, voice a bit hoarse as he grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket, and you laughed.

Javi carried your purchases in a canvas tote bag you’d bought with the eggs in one hand and held yours in his other as you went from stall to stall.

You noticed he had his guard up and seemed to be on alert, eyes scanning the crowd, a hand always on you, keeping you close to him. He had a serious look on his face, lips dipping in a frown, the crinkle between his eyebrows more prominent. His demeanor was so different from how he was when you were alone, and it was a bit of a shock.

Was this how he was normally?

Intense, reserved, grumpy.

He was polite with others and replied when spoken to, but his answers were short and to the point, offering a forced smile if the occasion called for it, and it just made you miss his real smiles. The happy, genuine ones, so you made it your mission to try and get him to relax a little.

You were at a stall with artisan soap bars, holding one up to your nose as you smelled it. You were hit with scents of amber, patchouli, Madagascar vanilla, something floral, and some citrus. It smelled pretty good, and you lifted it towards Javi.

“Do you like this?” You asked.

He leaned in, breathing it in.

“Smells good,” he replied with a nod, but he was still frowning.

You moved up on your toes, and he bent his head so you could speak in his ear.

“If I got it,” you whispered. “Can I wash you with it? Just imagine my hands all over your body, maybe I’m behind you with my hand at your front, wrapped around your—”

“Cielito,” he interrupted in a rough tone. He turned his head to kiss your forehead. “Get it.”

You kissed his cheek, and he gave you a tiny smile that you counted as a win.

The flowers at the next stall were gorgeous, your eyes taking in the vibrant rainbow of colors neatly displayed.

“Which ones?” Javi asked.

You looked up at him, and the tiny smile had gotten a little bigger, which meant you had to get some—it would make him happy.

You smiled, turning to look at the choices.

“The pink peonies.”

He leaned into your space.

“I can name maybe three of what we’re looking at. Which ones…?”

You giggled.

“Sorry,” you said, reaching to grab a small bouquet and showing him your choice.

“They’re pretty,” he said, lips curving up a little more. His hand left yours as he juggled the canvas bag to get his wallet from his pocket, quickly paying. He put his arm around your shoulders as you both started walking, joining the many others walking down the path.

He’d forgotten how many people came out for the farmers market.

It was a big deal for their community. Everything sold was grown and made within two hundred miles of Laredo. It happened every second Saturday of the month, and it seemed like the whole fucking town was there to show their support.

It should be a good thing, everybody coming together and supporting the local vendors, but for Javier, it meant being in the spotlight, people watching him and Cielito with looks ranging from curiosity to pity. He felt like he was always the talk of the town, either because of what happened seventeen years ago with Lorraine or, more recently, with Colombia; his life was constantly a hot topic of discussion.

He’d gone from Javier Peña, the man who left the Mayor’s daughter at the altar and became a social pariah, to Javier Peña, the man who helped take down Pablo Escobar and the Cali Cartel and was now considered Laredo’s golden boy.

His accomplishments overshadowed his past sins—to most of the people. He was called a hero by many, still hated by some, and there were the ones who didn’t give a fuck one way or the other but ate up all of the news about him anyway.

All of the interest in him made Javier avoid town functions like the fucking plague. He didn’t like the hero-worship, never thought he deserved such admiration for the shit he’d done in South America, and then there was the opposite he experienced, too; the dirty looks, the sneers, the outright animosity. He had to change barbers because his old one was Lorraine’s uncle, and he’d been told he wasn’t welcome upon his return.

He’d kept to himself since coming back. He worked, ran errands, and drank alone at the bar and in the comfort of his father’s house. Javier hadn’t been seen with a woman and turned down any advances because he knew his reputation preceded him, he knew the women offering to buy him drinks only wanted one thing, and he was tired. He wanted more than just sex; he wanted connection, passion, an actual relationship, and by some fucking miracle, he’d found what he was looking for in a beautiful woman who simply wanted to help him pick out some produce.

But now he was being seen in public with her, a sign that something was going on between them, and he was pretty sure the town was collectively having flashbacks to seventeen years prior. The pitiful looks stung him the most, knowing that people felt bad for Cielito like she was making a big mistake being with him. Doubt was beginning to creep into his brain that maybe she was, maybe he wasn’t good for her.

He felt his frown deepen, and suddenly arms wrapped around his middle, Cielito’s head resting against his chest, her flowers at his stomach, and he relaxed a little, his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer to him.

Javier wanted to spend time with her, take her places, show her a good time, and be a normal couple, but being in a busy place like this made him wish they were back at her apartment or even the booth at El Mercadito—he hated all of the attention and felt awful that she had to deal with it. The people, the looks, the whispers, all of it had him on edge and alert, wanting to keep her safe from it all—shield her, protect her. He worried everything would be too much, and she’d end things, realizing he wasn’t worth all the trouble.

They were coming up to another stall after browsing only a few before.

“Ooh, this looks fun,” she said, unwrapping herself from him, and Javier missed her immediately.

He watched her pick up a bottle of red wine on display, the winery located a few towns away.

“Thoughts on wine?” She asked, showing it to him.

“I prefer whiskey,” he said with a shrug.

The man selling came over to them, Javier not recognizing him, and started going through his sales pitch about how the one she was holding was a sweet wine with hints of cherries and strawberries and other things he didn’t understand. He’d never been a wine drinker; he preferred stronger liquor.

“Did you hear that, Javi? It’s versatile.”

She was looking at him with big eyes and a smile.

Someone else got the vendor's attention, and he politely excused himself.

“What does that mean?” Javier asked.

“You can drink it with food or by itself. Do you like wine?” She asked.

“I never drink it.”

He saw her eyes brighten, a smirk lifting on her lips, and he knew whatever she was about to say probably wouldn’t be appropriate with people around, and he felt his heart begin to speed up.

“So,” she started, looking around, the others close by in animated conversation, and she leaned close, lowering her voice a little. “Does that mean you wouldn’t want to get wine drunk and fool around on the couch?”

He was reminded of the previous things they’d done in her living room, his throat going dry, want beginning to stir in his belly, and he had to keep himself from groaning, huffing out an amused breath instead. His lips turned up in a small smile.

“Get the wine, Cielito.”

She grinned at him, her face lighting up, and he felt his heart stutter at how beautiful she looked. It took a couple of minutes for her to make her purchase, and he placed the bottle in the bag he was holding, taking her hand with his free one as they started walking.

“When was the last time you came here?” She asked him.

He looked at her, seeing her curious expression.

“Fuck,” he sighed. “I don’t even remember.”

He hadn’t been in recent years.

“It’s a really nice place,” she said, leaning into him. “I love looking at all the different things, and it’s such a beautiful day to walk around outside.” It was still morning, and the heat wasn’t overwhelming, the tree branches overhead offering shade. Their gazes met. “I’m having a great time being here with you.” She smiled at him, and he could see it on her face that she was telling the truth, and his eyes widened.

“You are?” He asked, not able to keep the surprise from his tone.

Her forehead crinkled, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s not too much?” He asked slowly.

He knew she was seeing and hearing the same things he was. The older couple behind them were talking in hushed voices, but he’d heard his name and the wife say, that poor girl.

Cielito’s expression relaxed, a smile on her lips.

“Like I told you on our second date, I don’t care what people say about me. As long as I’m happy and you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

He smiled a little bigger and felt some of the tension in his body release.

“I’m happy being with you,” he said truthfully, bringing their joined hands up so he could kiss the back of hers.

Her smile got bigger.

“Then fuck ‘em.”

He chuckled lowly, leaning down to kiss her temple.

“I’d rather just fuck you,” he said for only her to hear.

“You’re insatiable,” she laughed.

He smiled.

“Only for you.”

All it took were her words to have his earlier doubts and worries slipping from his mind, replaced with thoughts of how much he adored her and how lucky he was to have her.

They approached a table laden with little glass sculptures of animals and plants, the woman running it looking vaguely familiar, but Javier couldn’t recall her name as she greeted them with a friendly hello.

“These are really beautiful,” Cielito said, smiling at the vendor.

“Thank you. I make them myself.”

Javier listened as the two women spoke for a few minutes, his eyes on Cielito, watching how genuinely interested she was to hear about the other woman’s craft. He felt himself soften a little, warmth filling his chest. He was feeling better knowing she was having a good time, and he was glad she chose to ignore everyone and just enjoy herself.

She ended up buying a glass tulip, the stem green, and the flower yellow. It was packaged up safely, and Javier happily took it when it was handed to him to put in the bag.

They walked hand in hand to the next stall selling raw honey.

“Well, if it isn’t Javier Peña!” The owner, an older woman in her early seventies, said in a strong Texas drawl.

“Hi, Mrs. Moore,” he said, giving her a smile.

The older woman’s hair was completely white, and she was wearing a brightly printed blouse in a fun pattern, with a denim jacket. She had always been fond of him and his family, and had been a friend of his mother’s.

“Who is this lovely woman with you? I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Pauletta Moore,” she said, sticking out her hand.

Cielito shook it, introducing herself.

“It’s nice to meet you, dear. A gorgeous couple!” Mrs. Moore’s attention moved to him. “Javier, you’ve gotten more handsome with age! When I saw your picture in the paper about all that stuff you did in South America, I could not believe it was the same young man who helped me build those bee boxes when you were what, nineteen?”

“I was twenty,” he said, turning to Cielito, who looked at him. “Mrs. Moore went to church with my parents, and she wanted to start beekeeping—”

“Something to keep me busy in my retirement,” Mrs. Moore added.

“And she asked around if someone could help her build the boxes—”

“And Javier’s wonderful mother offered his services.”

“She didn’t give me a choice,” he said with a chuckle.

“Such an incredible woman,” Mrs. Moore said. “I miss her dearly. She made the best tamales in Webb County, if not the entire state of Texas! But I’m happy she sent you. I used those boxes for years.”

He knew he probably looked a little surprised.

“Really?” He asked.

He’d had to go to the library and check out books on how to build them.

“Yes! Had to expand when I really started selling. I’ll always fondly remember you coming over in your white tank top and jeans, hammering away.” She looked at Cielito. “You are one lucky girl. He’s aged like a fine wine. Look at those arms!”

He felt heat crawling up his neck, clearing his throat as Cielito giggled.

“They’re good arms,” Cielito agreed, letting go of his hand to rub her own along his forearm. “And I know I’m very lucky.” She looked up at him, grinning, and he smiled back.

Mrs. Moore grabbed a jar of honey from the table.

“Take some honey!” she said, holding it out to him.

“Oh, Mrs. Moore, I couldn’t possibly—” He started.

“I insist, Javier,” she said, pushing it towards him. “It was with your help I got my start. Take it as thanks.” Her tone stated she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He carefully accepted it from her.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime, and don’t be a stranger!”

He chuckled.

“I won’t.”

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Moore!” Cielito said.

“The pleasure was all mine.”

Javier put the honey in the bag and retook Cielito’s hand, pulling her away from the booth. She started speaking when they were further down the path.

“I’m pretty sure if Mrs. Moore was thirty years younger, she would have definitely come onto you.”

He groaned, and she giggled.

“You’re just so handsome,” she continued. “And your arms are apparently lady kryptonite.”

He looked at her, and she was wearing a big toothy grin.

“Yeah? Do you feel the same?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You know how I feel about them,” she replied with a wink.

He leaned down to speak in her ear.

“That’s right, you think it’s sexy when I manhandle you,” he whispered. “You like it when I pull out, flip you over, and fu—”

His sentence was cut off when she turned her head, kissing him, a surprised sound coming out of his mouth.

“We are in public,” she murmured against his lips.

He kissed her quickly, pulling back to look at her.

“You started it,” he said with a smirk. “The eggs, the soap? Teasing me.” He looked forward, seeing the next booth. “Want some food?”

“I could eat.”

They arrived at a little pastry place, the table containing trays of different flavored croissants and danishes, all from a bakery in town. The owner running the stall was the cousin of a guy he’d gone to school with who Javier didn’t know too well; he was pretty sure his name was Mike—he saw he was right when he spotted the man’s name tag.

“Good morning,” Mike greeted.

“Morning. What would you like?” Javier asked Cielito.

“Hmmm,” she said, appraising what was in front of them. “Would you want to share an almond croissant?” She asked, looking at him.

“Yeah. That sounds good,” he answered. He turned his attention back to the owner. “Can we get one of the almond ones, please?”

“Sure thing, Javier,” Mike replied, getting a piece of parchment paper, grabbing the pastry, and handing it to Cielito. She let go of his hand to take it.

Javier moved the tote bag to his left hand, pulling his wallet from his back pocket with his right. He snagged two ones and handed them over.

“Keep the change,” he said.

“Thank you!”

He put his wallet away, his arm moving to rest on Cielito’s shoulders as they walked a little down the path and stepped to the edge in an empty space between stalls, the brick retainer wall next to them as she stood in front of him.

The croissant was golden brown and had slices of almonds and powdered sugar on top. He watched as she held it up to his mouth; Javier opened and took a bite. It tasted buttery and nutty, with sweetness from the sugar and filling. He’d never had one before; a little too fancy for him, but he had to admit it wasn’t bad, nodding his head as he chewed.

“What do you think?” She asked, biting into it.

“It’s good,” he said after swallowing.

She brought it back up to his lips, and he bit into it again.

It went like that until the pastry was finished, each of them taking bites until finally, Javier told her to have the last of it, loving the little smile she gave him.

She tossed the used parchment paper in a nearby trash can and returned, her hand reaching up to his face.

“You got a little sugar right here,” she said, rubbing her thumb against the side of his mouth, and he watched, eyes transfixed on her as she brought it to her mouth, her tongue licking away the powder. He gulped, feeling heat under his skin that had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

She smiled, eyes sparkling.

“It looks like I missed some,” she said. “Come here.” She beckoned him to lean down, and he did it, immediately bringing his head closer to hers, his heartbeat racing.

She got close to him, his face an inch from hers, as her fingers lightly grabbed his chin to turn his head at an angle. Her lips touched the spot her thumb had, kissing it first, then her tongue licked over the small area, Javier’s eyes closing for a second as a tingle went down his spine. He wanted to kiss her, and the urge became too much; Javier quickly turned his head to capture her lips with his. He was delighted by her surprised sound, his tongue tasting the sweetness on her lips as he kissed her, swallowing her moan when he deepened it. Her hand cupped his jaw, and Javier didn’t care if anyone saw—they were in their own little bubble, enjoying one another for the moment, kissing until they needed to breathe.

They finally parted, looking at each other with smiles on their faces.

“I liked the croissant,” he said.

“Good. I’m kind of thirsty.”

He straightened up, looking down the path at the booths as people passed by, until he spotted one, turning back towards her.

“Lemonade?” He asked.

“Lemonade works.”

He took her hand, and she followed, moving with the crowd of people, until he got them to their destination, standing in line behind a small family.

They got to the table and the person running it was one of Lorraine’s many cousins; he watched her face sour when she realized who her next customer was. Her eyes moved from him to Cielito and back to him.

“Javier,” she said in an icy tone.

He sighed.

“Hi, Tammy.”

He really hoped she wouldn’t make a scene. Cielito squeezed his hand.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“Just one lemonade, please.”

She glared at him and aggressively grabbed a paper cup from the stack, eyes on his as she moved in front of the big glass spigot jar that held the bright yellow drink.

He let go of Cielito’s hand to get his wallet, taking out the dollar needed to pay and stuffing the billfold back into his pocket.

She was back in front of them after a moment, her attention moving to the woman next to him.

“Word of advice, sweetie,” Tammy started, tone sickly sweet. “I wouldn’t grow too attached to this one. He’s the love them and leave them type, and really good at the leaving.”

His eyes widened, blood rushing in his ears as his stomach dropped.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

As soon as he saw Tammy, they should’ve gone somewhere else, and he was kicking himself in the ass for thinking she’d be civil. It made no fucking sense to him why this family was so adamant about making his life hell—Lorraine had moved on, married a rich and successful man, and had a family, for Christ’s sake. He wished they’d all let it go, it happened seventeen years ago, and they acted like they were trying to make him suffer for all of the time he’d been away.

He was about to speak when Cielito beat him to it.

“Word of advice, sweetie,” she said, using the same sickly sweet tone. His head turned towards her, seeing her glaring at the other woman. “Mind your own fucking business. But seeing as you’re advertising fresh-squeezed lemonade when in reality you’re using a powdered mix—” Tammy sucked in a breath. “I can tell by that artificial yellow color,” she waved her hand at the glass. “Also, the canister is literally on the ground behind you, barely shoved behind that sign proudly declaring you’re only using the freshest lemons. Where are the lemons, Tammy?”

“Right there,” Tammy said.

Javier looked at the table, seeing a basket with unnaturally shiny lemons.

“Tammy, sweetie,” Cielito continued. “Some more advice: If you’re trying to fool people, use real lemons.” He watched as she plucked one of the fruits up, moving the flowers she was holding to the crook of her arm so she could use both of her hands to split the lemon in two. It was made of foam, and she tossed the pieces onto the table. “As I was saying, mind your own fucking business, but it’s pretty fucking clear you’re bad at that, too. So, keep your falsely advertised lemonade and have a nice day.”

Cielito grabbed his wrist, leading him away, and Javier got one last look at Tammy seeing her face bright red, mouth open, and eyes wide, and he couldn’t help smiling, wanting to do nothing more than kiss his girlfriend on the mouth.

When they stopped walking, they were standing at a food cart, and he wasn’t paying attention; his eyes focused on the amazing woman next to him. He knew she ordered something, her hand leaving him as she dug around in her purse one-handed to pull out a dollar and turned towards him to carefully take the one he was still holding. She exchanged the money for a clear plastic cup containing a golden liquid, and she looked at him.

“Follow me,” she said.

She didn’t even have to ask. He was her shadow; he’d follow her anywhere.

They ended up in another empty spot by the small wall, her standing in front of him, their eyes locked on one another, and he was in awe—this woman who always stood up for him with zero hesitation, even when they’d barely known each other, she was ready to fight for him. He felt his features soften, the smile still pulled up on his lips, and he just felt so much adoration for her it was squeezing his heart and making his chest tight.

She held the cup up to him, and he saw her lips move like she was saying something, but his brain didn’t process the words.

“Sorry?” He asked.

She smiled at him—her lips softly curving up, and a knowing look in her beautiful eyes, like she could read his thoughts.

“You want the first sip?” She asked again.

He shook his head.

“No, mi Cielito. You first,” he insisted.

Her smile got bigger, taking a gulp and sighing when she finished.

She passed it to him, and he was surprised when he took a drink, not expecting the taste.

“Beer?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, handing it back to her. He looked at his watch. “It’s not even eleven.”

“People drink beer with brunch,” she said with a shrug, taking another sip.

“Brunch implies we’re eating something more substantial than cereal and pastries.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to make us something when we get back to my apartment.” She smiled.

At the mention of her apartment, he felt a pulse of excitement flow through his body, ideas of the things he wanted to do to her once they were alone. He needed to show her how thankful he was, how much he cherished her, and how happy he was to be with her. He stepped into her space, fingers tipping her chin up, eyes locked on hers.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” She asked softly.

He looked at her lips, wet from the beer, and he saw her tongue peek out to lick the bottom one, him mimicking her actions as his gaze moved back up.

“Sticking up for me,” he rasped. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did.” She was speaking quietly for only him to hear. “You’re my boyfriend, and I won’t let people treat you like that. And even if you weren’t my boyfriend, I still would have told Tammy off for being rude and a liar. She has to be related to Lorraine.” She made a face, and he chuckled.

“Her cousin.”

“Is her whole family a bunch of dicks or something?”

“Her brother’s decent, but he’s the exception—the black sheep of the family.”

“Okay, so a bunch of dicks. Noted.”

“Thank you,” he said again.

“Stop thanking me,” she said in an exasperated tone, smiling. “You would have done the same.”

That was true.

The need to kiss her was back, eyes back on her lips, seeing how inviting they looked. He gave in, closing the distance and slanting his mouth against hers, and he smiled when he felt her melt into it, kissing her harder.

He nipped at her lip and gave her one last kiss.

“Let’s finish our morning beer. I’m getting… hungry.” He said the last word in a deeper register and saw her pupils dilate, making him smirk.

“Then we better get our shopping done,” she said, moving her head to speak in his ear. “I’m feeling hungry, too, and not just for food. You ruined my panties.” She kissed his cheek before stepping back.

Javier groaned, a spike of arousal shooting down his spine at the memory of what they’d done in the kitchen earlier. She stood in front of him, eyes on his with a sly smile, lifting the cup to her mouth, and he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, drinking her in—admiring the way her dress fit her figure and accentuated her breasts, knowing how she looked without any of the clothes on. The thoughts and images in his brain had his body going hot, and the reminder that she was standing there with his come still inside her, had blood heading towards his dick. She was driving him wild, and he wanted to be alone with her and away from all of these people. The quicker they finished, the quicker they could go.

There wasn’t too much beer left, and Javier gently took it from her hand and gulped the remaining liquid down, tossing the empty plastic into the nearby trash. He grabbed her free hand.

“What do you need to buy?” He asked.

“Bread, vegetables, and fruit,” she replied.

“Okay,” he nodded. “We’ll get those things and go.” He pulled her along, on a mission to find those items and get them going. She giggled behind him as he led her down the path briskly, passing people until he found a place selling bread.

He recognized the woman running the stand right away.

Anna Martinez was in the same graduating class as him in high school, and they’d been on friendly terms, very friendly terms. She looked almost the same as she did in high school; laugh lines were the only thing showing her age. She still had the curly brown hair that went past her shoulders and lips painted red in the same shade she wore when they were teens. She now had a gold band on her left ring finger and a kid who probably wasn’t even ten that looked like her spitting imagine filling a paper bag with pastries for another customer.

On the table were loaves of bread, cookies, and pan dulce, Mexican pastries, laid out in front of them. Anna smiled when she looked up and saw him standing there.

“Hey, Javi,” she said. “Haven’t seen you since Danny’s wedding. Knew you’d come back to town, been keeping busy?”

“Hi, Anna. Just working on the ranch.”

She gave him a once over, nodding her head.

“I can tell,” she said with a wink, still smiling warmly when she looked over at Cielito. “You must be the woman everyone is talking about.” She stuck out her hand. ”I’m Anna.” Cielito shook her hand, introducing herself. Anna pointed at the child next to her. “That’s my daughter, Erica.” The child waved and returned to work, refilling a tray with sweet breads. “It’s lovely to put a face and name to the mystery woman Javi was seen around town with,” Anna said. “You know, I heard from a credible source you had a wonderful interaction with Lorraine.”

Cielito laughed.

“I don’t know about wonderful, but it was something,” she said.

“Oh, it was definitely wonderful. It’s good somebody put her in her place. That whole family thinks they rule this town, and it’s tiring.”

Javi sighed.

“It really is,” he said.

Anna looked sympathetic, and he quickly changed the subject.

“How are the kids? Your husband?” He asked.

She smiled.

“Kids are great, doing well in school and their sports. Alejandro just got a promotion at the bank, so that’s been amazing! How’s life treating you, Javi?”

He looked at Cielito, feeling himself smile.

“Life’s really good,” he replied. “Things are looking up.”

“I’m glad to hear that! Now, what can I get you both?”

Cielito and Anna had a friendly discussion about the bread, leading to Cielito choosing two loaves to buy and paying. Anna gave her the change, the bread safely in their tote bag, before getting a small piece of parchment paper and grabbing a chocolate chip cookie, holding it out to Javier.

“Here’s a cookie, Javi. For old time's sake. A strong man like you deserves it,” she winked.

“Let me pay for it,” he said, moving his hand towards his pocket.

“No voy a dejar que pages (I won’t let you pay).”

“Lo insisto (I insist),” he said.

She looked at Cielito.

“Tell your man to accept the damn cookie.” She shook her head, muttering. “Dios mío, que terco este hombre (So stubborn this man, my god.)”

Cielito laughed.

“You heard her. Take the cookie,” she said.

He reluctantly accepted it.

“Muchas gracias, Anna,” He said.

“De nada (no problem).” Her eyes moved to the woman next to him. “Keep him out of trouble, and don’t let him take you to the lookout.”

He felt his ears heat, clearing his throat.

“I’ll do my best,” Cielito said.

They started walking away from the booth, Javier passing her the cookie.

“For you,” he said.

“I’m not eating your cookie.”

He sighed.

“We can split it?”

She smiled.

“That is acceptable,” she said. He broke it in two and handed her half.

He had to admit the cookie was pretty good. When they’d finished eating, he took her free hand into his, lacing their fingers as they walked towards a stall with vegetables and fruits.

“What did she mean by not letting you take me to the lookout?” Cielito asked.

His eyes went a little wide, looking away from her.

“Uh, something stupid happened there years ago. You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said.

“Well, now I’m curious.”

He sighed again.

“Just high school kids being dumb.”

“Oof, the stupid things I did as a teenager.”

Aside from the Tammy fiasco, you were having a great time and ignored the looks and whispers, just happy to be with Javi, flowers in one hand, his own in your other, walking and talking to him. You could see that needling away at his walls had worked. You saw the stiffness in him slowly disappear, caught glimpses of the smiles you liked, and it made you happy to see him loosening up.

“It’s time for you to use the knowledge I bestowed,” you said, the two of you standing at a large booth with crates upon crates of colorful produce displayed on many tables. You let go of his hand, pointing at some tomatoes in front of you. “Find us the perfect tomato, babe. I’ll make you my version of a BLT for lunch.”

He looked at you, eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s your version?”

“A secret you will soon discover when we get back to my place,” you said with a smile.

He nodded, looking back at the vegetables, staring them down with a serious look, like he was trying to intimidate them into speaking. You smiled, because it was the same expression he had the first time you saw him at the grocery store. He picked one up, feeling it in his hand, and you noticed how easily he held it, the large heirloom tomato fitting in his palm. He pressed into it gently to test it.

“Too ripe,” he said, putting it down, and you smiled big, watching with rapt attention. He picked up another, going through the same motions and setting it back down. He looked for a second and picked up another, holding it in his hand, and inspected it before testing it with his thumb. He nodded to himself, holding it out to you. “This one.”

You took it, and you couldn’t wrap your fingers around it, checking it out and lightly pressing into it, the color of it bright red and unblemished. You looked up at him, and he was watching intently.

“Are you positive this is the one you want to go with?” You asked.

He frowned, looking unsure.

“Yeah..?”

You smiled.

“Congratulations, Javi. You picked the perfect tomato.”

This was when he gave you the biggest, happiest, genuine smile that took your breath away, when his dimple appeared and his eyes crinkled at the edges.

“Really?” He asked.

“Really! I’m so proud.”

He chuckled, leaning down to give you a kiss on the lips.

“What else do we need?” He asked.

“Arugula, avocado, and I’m looking at the fruit—need to get some for pies and maybe pastries.”

He ducked his head to whisper in your ear.

“For apology baked goods?” He asked.

“Yes,” you laughed.

His voice went a bit deeper. “Do you still feel my come?”

You softly gasped.

“Am I dripping out of you?” He continued.

“Javi,” you breathed.

Your cunt clenched at the reminder, reveling in the delicious ache in your core. He really had ruined your panties, the wet fabric sticking to you.

He went on, his breath tickling your ear.

“Thinking about how easy it is to lift up that pretty dress and wreck your tight—”

You turned your head, cutting off his sentence with your lips.

“Again, we are in public,” you said against his mouth.

He kissed you a little harder.

He pulled back. “Can’t wait to get back to your apartment,” he said with a smirk. He kissed your forehead. “I’ll get the avocado, and we can leave when you’ve gotten the rest.”

Javi was carrying two bags in his hand, keeping his other free to hold yours, while you held the flowers—it was the only thing he’d let you carry.

The two of you were heading toward the truck when some jewelry caught your attention, and you dragged him over to take a quick look. The person working the booth was a beautiful woman who, based on her looks, was a little younger than you. She ignored you, turning her attention to Javi.

“Hi, Javier.” Her tone was extremely flirty as she twirled some of her blonde hair on her finger. Your eyebrows were in your hairline, looking down to double-check that you were still holding his hand, and there it was, his fingers laced with your own.

“Hi, uh…” He didn’t know her name, and you smiled as your eyes moved to the handmade jewelry in front of you—all of the pieces made from silver, with intricate engraving work, and some with precious stones.

“Rebecca. The Wilson’s oldest,” she said.

“Right,” he said. You glanced at him to see he had a fake polite smile on his face, so different from the ones he had given Mrs. Moore or Anna.

“You’re looking really good,” she said and reached over the table to touch his arm, and it froze you in place at how bold she was being. You felt like there was a rock in the pit of your stomach, the tendrils of an unpleasant feeling beginning to form inside your chest.

“Thanks,” he replied, his voice tight and clearly uncomfortable with the attention. He moved closer into your side, Rebecca’s hand dropping away.

“You know all that stuff you did in South America; I’d love to buy you a drink sometime and thank you properly,” she said suggestively, practically eye fucking him.

Your body tensed up, feeling your blood boil at this woman’s blatant disregard for you. You’d seen the looks women gave Javi at the bar on your first date, and even while you’d been out today; you knew others found him attractive—you sure as fuck did, and you wouldn’t be bothered by mild, fun-flirting, that was harmless, like the interactions he’d had earlier, but this was different. This made you angry that someone would be so hurtful.

Insecurity was clawing in your chest, making it feel tight, because why would Javi choose you over someone so young and beautiful? You were beginning to spiral, feeling the emotions starting to overwhelm you.

“I’m not interested,” Javi said sternly, the polite tone gone. Your head whipped toward him, seeing that he looked angry. “And I clearly have a girlfriend—a fucking incredible one at that, and she doesn’t deserve this kind of disrespect.” He looked at you, and his face softened. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

You nodded, letting him pull you away.

You were both quiet as you walked back to the truck, his hand holding yours tightly.

His words played over in your head on repeat. I’m not interested, and I clearly have a girlfriend. Being seen together, holding hands, and showing public displays of affection didn’t indicate the nature of your relationship. With Javi’s past, most people would probably assume it was a fling or nothing special—but he’d announced it, and made sure they knew you were dating and that it was serious. Sure, he’d only said it to Rebecca, but the townspeople were a bunch of gossips, and you had no doubt the news would spread like wildfire. You were shocked with how easily he proclaimed it, and elated, just so fucking happy that he was so committed to you, and you felt silly for having any doubts.

Javi opened the truck's passenger door, leaning in to put the bags in the backseat, and turned to gently take the flowers from you, putting those in the back also. When he faced you again, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said softly.

“It’s okay,” your muffled voice replied.

He loosened his hold, a hand tipping your chin up to look at him.

His forehead was scrunched.

“It’s not okay,” he said. “It was fucked up and rude.”

“Maybe she didn’t know?”

He huffed out a breath.

“The whole fucking town knows. She knew. I was holding your hand, it was obvious, and she didn’t give a fuck.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, it was fucked up, and I didn’t care for it.”

“I know, Cielito.”

“Like Mrs. Moore talking about how handsome you are and your great arms? That was fine and fun. Or Anna being flirty and insisting a strong man like you needed a chocolate chip cookie? That was okay; she acknowledged we were together, and you got a free cookie.”

“That I tried to give you.”

“That we split.”

He sighed.

“I’m sorry. Just really fucking sorry you had to deal with all that and everything that happened today.”

“You can’t control what other people say,” you said with a shrug. “So, there’s no reason to be sorry. You also can’t help that you’re just so damn irresistible women lose complete common sense when interacting with you. Except for Tammy.” You made a face.

He chuckled, smirking.

“You seem to do pretty well with my irresistible charm.”

“It takes a lot of effort—like so much. Your neck looks so fucking good in that shirt, all I can think about is lick—”

He kissed you hard, interrupting your sentence, a moan slipping out of your mouth.

“Let’s head back to your place,” he said, pulling back, eyes full of promise.

“Okay,” you nodded.

You got into the truck, and Javi kissed you, before he shut the door and walked around to get into the driver’s side seconds later. You moved to the middle seat, wanting to be closer to him. He held your hand, resting them on his thigh as he pulled out of the parking spot and into traffic. The music was softly playing, the air conditioning blowing, and you leaned your head against his arm.

All of the negative emotions had been replaced with happiness, contentedness, need. You were still thinking about what he’d said to Rebecca.

“You told her I was your girlfriend,” you said.

“Of course I did. That’s what you are.”

You turned your head, resting your chin on his shoulder to look at his profile, admiring the curve of his nose and lips.

“I mean, I know we’ve labeled our relationship to each other, but telling others, I don’t know, makes it feel more real? We’re serious enough that we’re comfortable with people knowing.”

“I’m very serious,” he said without missing a beat.

Your heart sped up.

“What do you mean by that?”

He glanced over at you.

“If I don’t fuck this up.” He looked back at the road. “And you’re still happy with me in the future. Hopefully, you’d consider taking my last name.”

Your eyes widened.

“You’re interested in the possibility of getting married?”

His eyes met yours briefly, his eyebrows furrowing as he frowned.

“Yeah? Is that not something you want?”

“I’m okay with marriage,” you reassured. “It’s just surprising to me that after what you’ve gone through, you’d even fathom the idea.”

Javi sighed, hearing the creak of his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“I’m not against it. My parents were my example of what a healthy marriage should look like. If I marry, I want it to be with someone I genuinely love, who will stick with me through thick or thin, and not put up with any of my shit. And I want to have the choice on marrying—not doing it simply because it’s the right thing to do.” He looked at you again, eyes softer, vulnerability shining in the dark pools. “I want to marry for love, not duty.”

“That’s how it should be,” you nodded, a small smile on your lips. “And I want the same things. If I’m tying myself to someone for the rest of my life, I need to like them, love them, and know they feel the same.”

He smiled, facing forward again.

“I’m glad we have similar wants,” he said.

“I am, too,” you said, grinning.

You were leaning into his side, your left hand holding his, and you moved your right one across your body to rub it against his jean-clad thigh.

“So,” you started. “If this all works out, your goal is to one day make me Mrs. Javier Peña?”

He chuckled.

“Yeah.”

In the past when you dated, things were a bit more casual. You saw the other person once a week, and talked on the phone maybe one or two times between seeing each other, but with Javi, the two of you had packed basically a month of dates into a matter of days. It was a bit unconventional, but there was something between the two of you that you’d never felt with anyone else—a strong connection, and the fact you could see a future with him—that you wanted a future with him.

You could picture him meeting your family and friends, and knew they’d all like him, because he was charming and fun to talk to when he was comfortable. It made you sad that he couldn’t be like that all the time in the town he’d grown up in—that the people put him on edge, and only a few got to see what he was really like without his walls up. All this to say that talking about the future didn’t scare you—you knew he’d be a part of yours, and it made sense to figure things out and see if you wanted the same things.

“What else do you want?” You asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Kids? No kids?”

He tensed, throat bobbing, and he wasn’t looking at you, but you could see his eyes had widened, and you bet they looked a little panicked.

“Uh… I… I don’t… I’m not….”

Yep, panicked.

You squeezed his thigh.

“A topic for later discussion,” you said, throwing him a line. You started rubbing your hand up and down his thigh again, moving up and inward, feeling it tense, and going back down.

He looked at you.

“What… Uh… What about you?”

You saw his throat swallow.

“Kids or no kids, I’m happy with whichever.” You said truthfully. “It’s a big decision I’d want to make with my partner, and I’d want both of us on board, you know?”

“Yeah...”

Your hand was still moving, doing a circuit up and back down, over and over again.

“Pets?” You asked.

“What about them?”

“Yes or no.”

He visibly relaxed.

“If I had the space, yes,” he said, looking over at you and smiling. “A dog.”

“Not into cats?”

Your hand went further up his inner thigh, and he sucked in a breath before you moved it back down.

“Allergic,” he answered breathlessly.

“That is a damn shame.”

“Do you want pets?” He asked.

“I love animals,” you said. “I always envisioned having a dog and cat one day, but I can live without a cat.”

He looked at you and smiled.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. Dogs are wonderful.”

Your hand was still moving on his thigh, and you were feeling bold—everything he’d done and said while you’d been out and in the truck made you want him so badly that you decided to test the waters, finally moving your hand between his legs, and rubbing at his groin.

“Cielito,” Javi groaned, squeezing your hand he was holding. “What are you doing?”

“If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” you said.

You could feel him becoming interested under your touch.

“I… Fuck, I don’t want you to stop.” You heard his hand tightening around the steering wheel again, his words making your cunt throb, a heady rush of arousal coursing through you and making your ruined panties even wetter.

You kept moving your hand, his jeans the only barrier keeping you from touching his cock.

“Okay,” you smiled.

He was half-hard already, his pants beginning to bulge under your ministrations.

“What else do you want?” You asked.

It was taking him a moment to respond as you kept rubbing, seconds passing.

“A house,” he finally said.

“A house is good and would have the space for your future dog. I’d like a house with a little garden to plant flowers and vegetables. What else?” You asked.

He was fully hard quickly, and you moved both of your hands to the front of his jeans, undoing his belt and pants.

“Wha—” His word cut off into a moan when your hand wrapped around his straining cock, flushed, with precum beading at the tip, and throbbing in your grasp.

You let go to lick your palm before you started stroking him, your saliva and his arousal easing your movements, feeling the hot, velvety skin under your palm, solid in your hand.

“What else?” You asked again.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “It’s hard to think with your hand around my dick.”

You stopped, and he whined.

“Is it hindering your ability to drive?” You asked.

“No, no, keep going,” he urged, eyes on the road. “I’m taking care of it.”

You didn’t know what he meant, beginning to move your hand again, up and down, flicking your wrist on the upstroke to make him moan.

You were working him over, getting him to the point that precum was steadily dribbling, making your hand glide wetly.

Javi was panting out breaths mixed with gasps and moans, his eyes never moving from in front of him.

“You never answered my question,” you said.

“Uh, what?” He asked thickly. You saw him swallow. “Oh. Fuck,” he groaned. “Uh… happiness.”

You were aware that he’d made a couple of turns you hadn’t expected. You looked out the window, not recognizing where you were—no houses or businesses—the area looked like they were planning to turn it into a neighborhood, but right now, it was completely empty, just streets with no sign of civilization for miles.

You turned your attention back to him, admiring his profile, the curve of his nose, and parted lips.

“You deserve happiness,” you said. “After the life you’ve had, I want you to be happy. Anything else you’d want?”

The truck swerved to the side of the road, coming to a complete stop, Javi throwing it into park and tossing his sunglasses onto the dashboard. His seatbelt was quickly undone and practically thrown over his shoulder in a clatter as his upper body turned towards you. His big hands came up to cradle your face as he looked you in the eyes.

“You,” he said, crashing his lips against yours.

You moaned when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, sliding it against yours, kissing you desperately. Your tongues tangled, teeth clashed, noses bumped—you could feel that he wanted you just as badly, and it lit a fire in your belly, arousal burning brightly.

His hands moved down your body, quickly undoing your seatbelt and grabbing your ass, hauling you into his lap, your hand coming off him in the move.

You were straddling his thighs, his mouth on yours while his hands pulled your dress up your hips, bunching it there as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Fucking need you, baby,” he growled against your mouth. His palms were back on your ass, moving you forward to grind your covered core against his hard cock. “Feel what you do to me.”

As he rubbed against your clit, you moaned, sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

“Can I—?” He asked.

You didn’t need him to finish the question; he could have whatever he wanted.

“Yes,” you gasped.

Your mouths detached as you sat up, positioning yourself over him, Javi pulling your panties aside, and you started to sink down, watching his face, seeing his eyes close and lips part, that pained expression, committing to memory the wrecked look on his face, as you both groaned in unison.

“God,” you sighed once you’d bottomed out. He was stretching your walls, filling you perfectly, and making your cunt flutter around him. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Ride me, baby,” he rasped, eyes blown wide when he looked at you. “Take what you want.”

You rolled your hips, feeling him so deep, a moan slipped from your throat, and then you started moving, riding him the way he asked. You leaned in, kissing him hard as your hands moved to his shoulders for leverage, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, helping to move you up and down.

His mouth moved to your jaw, kissing along it as you bounced on him, the tension building in your stomach, working yourself up, getting closer to your sweet release, and you were relishing in the noises he made against your skin—moans, grunts, and gasps as he kissed down the column of your throat, peppering it with kisses, bites, and licks. You still had marks from the first night in your apartment littered across your neck and chest, and you loved them—reminders of the glorious things he’d done to you.

You were losing yourself to the pleasure, his cock hitting all of the right spots, and the slick sounds between your legs spurring you on.

Javi’s hand came up to your front, tugging the neckline of your dress and the cup of your bra down to free one of your breasts. Your nipples were already stiff peaks, Javi pulling the freed one into his warm mouth, making your back arch, pushing your chest into his face. He groaned around the bud, laving at it before his mouth moved to the skin of your breast, sucking hard.

He was thrusting his hips up to meet yours, a hand on your ass to help move you, mouth back to sucking on your nipple, and now his free hand was snaked between your bodies, rubbing at your clit. You were close, everything winding you up so tightly it felt like you were on the cliff's edge, feeling your inner muscles tightening.

“Come for me,” Javi ordered in a gravelly tone that sent electricity down your spine, and his hand was pulling your face into his, kissing you messily as you tipped over the edge, shattering. He swallowed your shuddering moans, your body tensing, clenching hard around him, and breaking your rhythm. Euphoria washed over you, spreading through your body and limbs in heated waves.

His lips left yours.

“Good fucking girl,” he rasped.

You were aware of both of Javi’s hands grabbing onto your ass, using his strength to work you up and down him as he chased his high and worked you through your aftershocks.

His head moved to the crook of your neck, grunting against your skin, feeling his hot breaths. You knew he was close when he started moving faster—your body going up and down in quick succession, until one last downstroke, where he held himself sheathed deep inside. His teeth sank into the soft skin of your shoulder, making you whimper from the pleasurable pain, as he came with a deep, rumbling groan that you could feel vibrating against you, his cock pulsing, filling you with his spend.

You were both panting, his lips on the same spot, sucking the heat to the surface of your skin, the flesh feeling tender, before he was moving to your neck as your highs ebbed away. His lap was a mess, you could feel the wet denim under you, and your panties were in a similar condition.

Your hands moved into his hair, tugging on it to bring his face to yours in order to kiss him. It was languid, sweet, his tongue slipping past your lips and making you moan softly.

His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you into him, so your fronts were flush together, and you continued to kiss, both of you wrapped up in each other—lost in one another, until there was a need to breathe, and you were pulling apart, resting your foreheads together.

A thought came to you, and a giggle escaped your throat.

Javi pulled back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a slight frown on his kiss-swollen lips.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You lied.”

His eyes widened.

“About what?”

“You told me there were two places where we’d fuck, but apparently, there are three.” You started laughing.

He made an amused sound, mouth turning up in a smile.

“I also said I’d fuck you anywhere, so technically I didn’t lie.”

“We’re going to get in trouble for public indecency.”

“No, we won’t.”

“Your dick is inside me, and we’re in public.”

He smirked.

“My dick is inside you, and we’re somewhere nobody will find us.”

Your brow rose.

“How can you be sure?”

“Abandoned development, or at least it’s been tied up in legalities for a long fucking time. Nothing out here and no reason for people.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“Javi, do you have a list of places where you can have sex around town?”

“I lived with my parents until I left for college. I wasn’t fucking girls at home with them there. I had to get… creative.”

“I’m amazed you never got caught.”

He grimaced.

“No,” you gasped. “Someone found you?”

“Once. The lookout. But the cop let us off with a warning.”

You sighed.

“We’re so going to get in trouble for public indecency.”

He pinched your thigh lightly, making you jump a little and laugh.

“No, we aren’t.”

“We better not,” you leaned in to kiss him.

Javi’s hand came up to cradle your jaw, slanting his lips against yours.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured.

You knew that was true.

“I know,” you said, breaking the kiss to look at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Sticking up for me.”

You could see it in the way he was looking at you, the liquid pools of his eyes on yours intently, his lips turned up, and his face relaxed—you could see the devotion, the tenderness, and it made your throat feel tight at being the recipient of the look.

“You’re my girl,” he said evenly. “And I’ll always stick up for you, Cielito. Zero hesitation. They can talk about and treat me however they fucking like, but you? No. I won’t stand for it. I’d take on the town—no, the entire fucking world to protect you. You’re the only person I care about. Period. Everybody else can go fuck themselves.”

“Oh, Javi,” you gasped, moving forward to press your lips against his hard. “I feel the same,” you murmured, and he kissed you harder, deepening it, both of you feeling something at the moment that you couldn’t quite name but felt deep in your souls.

You were breathless when you parted, smiling, and you leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

“It’s us against the world, babe.” His smile got bigger. “Wait, I’m not the only person. I mean, your dad’s gotta be up there, too.”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, he is.”

“Good. Haven’t met him, but I already adore him for helping raise such a great man.” You gave him a quick peck on his mouth. “I gotta say, you’re excelling at this boyfriend thing. You’ve made your girlfriend very happy.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Absolutely. Now let’s get out of here before your public sex luck really runs out.”

Javi laughed.

He was holding the driver’s side door open for Cielito to get out of the truck parked in his usual spot at the back of the lot under the big tree.

“I really messed up your pants,” she said, eyes locked on his crotch. “I’ll wash them after lunch.”

He looked down, seeing the dark wet spots and drying evidence of their activities from minutes before.

He sighed, looking back at her.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I have a change of clothes.”

She grabbed the bags from the backseat and the flowers, Javier immediately taking the totes from her as she got out of the vehicle.

She leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

“It’s fine. I need to do laundry anyway.”

He put both bags in one hand, keeping them positioned in front of his waist, covering himself as he shut the door, and took her free hand, letting her pull him along towards the apartment complex.

They made their way across the parking lot and down the concrete walkway, coming upon an elderly woman standing outside the door next to Cielito’s, her grey hair in a tight bun, a green watering can in hand as she tended to the potted plants under her window. Her head came up, eyes behind glasses, looking at them as they approached.

She smiled warmly at Cielito.

“¡Hola, preciosa (Hello, precious)!” She greeted.

“Hi, Mrs. Hernandez. It’s a beautiful day.”

“Sí. It is.” She glanced at the bags, and Javier pressed them closer to his body to ensure she couldn’t see his lap. “Did you go to the farmers market?”

“We did!” Cielito held out the pink peonies to show her. “It was wonderful.”

“¡Qué bellas (how lovely)! It was nice seeing you!”

They moved to Cielito’s door, her hand leaving his to get into her purse to grab her keys.

“You too, Mrs. Hernandez!” She said, her attention moving to unlocking the door and opening it, heading inside.

“Adiós, Señora Hernández.” Javier gave the older woman a friendly smile.

He watched her eyes narrow, glaring at him, and his face fell.

“Adiós, Javi,” she practically spat out his name. “Sin-vergüenza (shameless),” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she turned back towards her plants.

Javier sighed.

We were so loud she knows my fucking name and hates me. Great.

He stepped into the apartment and shut the door behind him, locking it.

Javier heard the kitchen sink running, assuming Cielito was taking care of the flowers, and toed off his shoes next to hers by the door. A long, grey wooden console table was against the wall in the entryway, a glass bowl sitting on it that she had discarded her keys in. He got his own out of his pocket and set them with hers, along with his wallet.

He paused, eyes stuck on their things together. Javier hadn’t realized how comfortable he felt in her apartment, putting his stuff with hers without a second thought. He looked over at his boots sitting in their spot next to her row of shoes like that’s where they belonged or his leather jacket hanging with her coats on the wall. She’d welcomed him into her home and life, carving out spaces for him to occupy, their lives mingling together tangibly and intangibly. It all seemed like it was supposed to be like this, and wasn’t it? It sure as fuck felt like it, seeing her keys with the colorful keychains next to his plainer set or his black jacket amongst her coats in shades of deep purple, blue, and grey, and all of it just made sense to him—they made sense, the two of them being with each other; their differences, similarities, and imperfections somehow fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

He couldn’t help thinking about the day and how she’d made him feel better being out in public, and getting him out of his head. He actually had a great time, aside from the glaring mishaps, but even those just brought them closer together.

A smile crept up on his lips at the realization that every day his feelings for her grew stronger and stronger, and he knew she felt the same, reassured that they had similar wants for the future. He was happy with her—truly happy, and sure things were moving quickly, but it felt right, and he wasn’t going to fight it.

“Javi?” Cielito called.

He turned his head, seeing her standing at the kitchen doorway, looking at him inquisitively.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Is everything okay?”

He started walking towards her, still carrying the bags in one hand, and when he reached her, his free hand pushed some hair away from her face, and he leaned in to kiss her.

“Everything’s great,” he said when he pulled back, looking her in the eyes.

“You sure?”

He sighed.

“Mrs. Hernandez hates me.”

She giggled.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She does. You should have seen the way she looked at me. If looks could kill, I’d be deader than a fucking doornail.”

Her hands came up to cup his cheeks, and she looked concerned.

“Oh, Javi. I’m sorry, we’ll just have to be… quieter.”

He felt his lips quirk up.

“But I love it when you scream my name—tells me I’m fucking you right.”

She laughed.

“Well, you’ll have to figure out another way to tell.”

He leaned in to kiss her, swallowing her moan when he nipped at her bottom lip and kissed her harder.

“You do get really wet,” he murmured against her lips. “And when you come, your pussy chokes my dick and soaks me.” He kissed her one last time, leaning back enough to look at her. “Can you keep quiet, though? Or will I have to cover your mouth?”

“Fuck,” she breathed.

“Do you want me to cover your mouth if you’re getting too loud?”

She nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

He smiled, kissing her again.

“Okay,” he said. “Where do you want the bags?”

She giggled, lightly patting his cheek.

“Come on. I’ll show you,” she said, kissing him quickly before heading into the kitchen.

She showed him where everything went, and gave him a quick lesson on how to store the different types of produce. He felt bad she had to reorganize her fridge to fit the three dozen eggs he’d gotten, but she reassured him that with the baking she had planned, and stuff she could make them to eat, they’d go through them in no time. It all was put away, the glass tulip residing on the table with the record player, and she held the soap in her hand, looking at him with a beaming smile as they stood in the kitchen.

“I’m going to take a quick shower before I make us lunch,” she said.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s a good idea. Can I, uh.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “Can I join you?”

She grinned.

“You have an open invitation to shower with me any time.”

“I do?”

“Definitely.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before grabbing his hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s get cleaned up,” she said, leading him out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom.

She’d put the soap in the shower and turned on the water to warm it up; the moment she turned towards him, his mouth was on hers, swallowing her surprised sound as his hands cradled her jaw.

He felt her touch his chest and move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one with practiced ease as they kissed until she pushed his shirt open, his hands leaving her face to shrug it off.

They parted, her eyes moving along his bare torso, her fingers sliding along his skin, touching him softly before she leaned in and kissed right over his heart.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, and he gulped.

“You’re so fucking handsome,” she said.

His body heated as she kissed all over his chest, and he moaned when she flicked her tongue over his nipple, his cock twitching in his pants as it began to harden and his fists clenched.

Her hands were on his hips as she moved lower, sinking down to kiss his ribs and stomach. Javier felt a little overwhelmed with the attention, not being used to receiving such worship, and that’s what this was—he could feel it with every press of her lips, the tenderness, and affection, the genuine adoration that she felt for him, making a pleasant shiver move down his spine.

And he knew she was doing it simply because she wanted to; she wanted to kiss him and show her admiration for his body without it being anything more than her appreciating his existence—no intention or expectation that it’d turn into something sexual, and it was a lot for him. He’d never had someone care for him like this, or kiss him so reverently, and it made his chest squeeze so fucking tight that he almost couldn’t breathe.

He loved it, couldn’t get enough of it.

Javier felt like he needed to say or do something, reciprocate, and make her feel the way he was—worship her in the same way, and he found himself pulling her up to stand, crashing his mouth against hers as he grabbed the hem of her dress and tugged it up, their lips parting as he got it off her body and tossed it to the ground.

His eyes trailed along her body, taking in her standing in nothing but her panties and bra, a matching set of red lace, and his throat went dry, his tongue wetting his bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said.

His eyes zeroed in on the visible mark on her shoulder from earlier, larger than the other hickeys littered on her body, and his stomach dropped.

“Shit,” he said, hand reaching out to touch it. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her eyebrows knit together.

“You didn’t hurt me. It’s just a little bite.”

“Cielito, it’s going to be a big bruise. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

She cupped his cheek.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad or in pain. I like it when you mark me. Sure, I won’t be able to wear sundresses for a little while, but that’s okay. Don’t stress.” She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly.

“Are you sure?” He asked, frowning.

“Yeah, babe. Now let’s get naked,” she said with a wag of her eyebrows.

He chuckled.

“Okay,” he said.

He undid his pants and pushed them off while she got her bra off, their pile of discarded clothes getting larger as he pulled off his socks.

He felt arousal burn in his belly when he caught sight of her come-soaked underwear.

“Fuck, baby, we really did ruin your panties.”

She laughed.

“Yeah, we did. I told you I needed to do laundry. The amount of undies I’ve gone through this week has been ridiculous, and I solely blame you.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“No, you’re not.”

He smiled.

“No, I’m not.”

They were both naked, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him into the shower, the hot spray hitting their sides.

“Can I wash you?” He asked.

She gave him a toothy smile.

“It’s sweet of you to ask. Of course.”

He grabbed the loofah and the body wash she liked, getting it nice and sudsy.

This was when he reciprocated the things she’d done to him.

He kissed her softly on the lips, moving to her jaw and down her neck, pressing a light kiss against the bite mark on her shoulder. He went lower, littering every piece of satin soft skin he came across with kisses.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered against her, hearing her suck in a breath, and it spurred him on, pulled him deeper under her spell as he continued peppering kisses over her chest, on her breasts, and down her stomach. One of his hands was on her hip, holding her still as he bent down, covering every inch he came in contact with his lips, wanting her to feel his admiration, his affection, how much he liked and wanted her.

He didn’t know how long he did it for, but she spoke, her voice pulling him from his trance.

“Javi, baby, I don’t think this is washing,” she said.

He chuckled against her skin, biting at her hip before he stood up.

“Sorry,” he said, kissing her on the lips.

“It was nice.”

He nodded. “Can I wash you now?”

She laughed.

“Yes.”

He smiled and got to work washing her with the loofah, going over the places he kissed and everywhere else until it was time for her to rinse off. She quickly shampooed and conditioned her hair before turning to him.

“My turn?” She asked.

“Sure,” he said.

He ducked his head to give her better access to his hair, and sighed when her fingers moved against his scalp. It just felt so fucking good, his eyes closing as his body relaxed under her ministrations; he needed to touch her, his hands landing on her hips. She had him wash out the shampoo, and then it was time for the conditioner, Javier melting under her touch. It was over too soon, his hair washed and rinsed, and he watched her grab the bar of soap they’d bought that day. She worked it in her hands to get a thick lather before she started rubbing at his skin. Javier sighed again as she moved all over his front, getting him nice and soapy before she moved to his back.

“Hey, Javi?” She asked, standing behind him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember when we were buying this at the farmers market, and I mentioned what I wanted to do to you?”

He swallowed hard, imagining her hand on his dick, and he felt himself getting hard at the thought.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Can I?” She asked, kissing his spine.

Javier shuddered.

“Fuck.” He was hard as a rock now. “Yes,” he said thickly. “You can.”

She pressed her body against his back, her arm moving to his front. He felt the groan vibrate in his chest when her soap-slicked hand wrapped around his dick.

“God, I love the sounds you make.” The huskiness of her voice sent a wave of pleasure to his dick. “Does it feel good?”

His head was tilted down, watching in fascination as her hand started slowly stroking him, seeing how his cock looked in her hand, her fingers unable to fully wrap around his entire girth, and his dick twitched.

“Does it, Javi?” She asked again.

“Yes,” he gasped.

The soap made everything slippery, her hand working in a steady rhythm until she twisted her wrist on the upstroke, and Javier’s mind went blank, moaning loudly.

“You feel so good in my hand,” she said. “So big and hard. I love when you stretch me open—you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

He felt pride swell in his chest, and his dick twitch at her words. She sped up, and he felt every nerve in his body alight with each stroke of her hand and flick of her wrist. He knew he was gasping out moans, feeling himself getting close.

She had done this enough times that she knew what he liked, and he was overcome with what he was feeling; her hand wrapped around him, her body pressed against his, the sound of her voice, all of it pushing him closer to his orgasm.

“I’ve got you, Javi. I’m going to make you come—make you feel good.”

He loved every moment, letting her do what she wanted to him, his hips bucking into her grip.

Her other hand was resting on his stomach, his muscles beginning to tense under her palm as his body thrummed.

“Are you going to come, baby?” She asked.

“Fuck,” he said breathlessly. “Yes.”

She picked up in pace, making Javier gasp out breaths. He wanted to touch her, needed to feel her skin, and his hand moved back behind him, grabbing onto her hip.

His eyes slipped closed, everything building up.

“Come for me,” she ordered.

Her words did it, making him fall apart with a shudder as pleasure coursed through him, and her name fell from his lips, ropes of his come spilling onto the shower floor, her hand milking him dry.

“So good for me,” she purred.

His body slumped, blissed out, and panting.

Her hand slowed to a stop; Javier opened his eyes and saw her come and soap-covered fingers still around him.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

She let go of him, feeling her move behind him, rinsing her hand clean, and a moment later, both of her hands were rubbing against his stomach, her body pressed against him as she kissed his back.

He melted into her embrace as he came down from his high, basking in the soothing touches, with a deep sigh escaping his lungs.

Eventually, he turned in her arms, Javier’s hands pulling her into him, leaning down to kiss her hard. She moaned against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue inside. He moved her, walking her back up against the shower wall.

“Shit,” she hissed against his lips. “Cold wall.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, kissing her again.

He pulled back to look at her; her lips a bit swollen, and out of breath.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he said.

She smiled.

“You’re handsome, yourself.”

“Let me eat your pussy,” he started bending down, wanting to get his mouth on her.

Her hands grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him up.

“No, no,” she said quickly, and he paused, looking up at her.

“You don’t want…?” He asked with a furrow of his brow.

She had a reassuring smile on her lips.

“I’m good.”

He stood back up.

“Are you sure? Because I’d really fucking love to.”

She giggled.

“Remember what you said this morning about the whole you don’t always have to reciprocate? It’s a two-way street. Sometimes I just want to make you feel good without needing anything in return.”

He frowned.

He had said that, and he understood where she was coming from, but at the same time, he really wanted to eat her out.

“Okay, I get it,” he said. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

She giggled again, pushing up on her toes to kiss him. His hands were resting on her hips.

“You’re very adorable, and I love how ready to go you are.”

His lips curled up in a smile.

“It’s you—can’t get enough. Haven’t had this much sex since, fuck, maybe my twenties? I would have passed out by now if we hadn't relaxed last night.”

She laughed.

“I’ve never in my entire life had this much sex. It’s very new and exciting, and really fucking good.”

“Yeah?”

“Javi, I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve made me come.”

He felt his chest puff out a little.

“Good,” he nodded.

“God, you’re so smug about it. I love it.”

He smiled.

“Good,” he said again.

“I’ll let you know if I need an orgasm or two later on,” she said with a wink. “Right now, though, I am starving and want to make you a BLT.”

“I can’t wait to try your version.”

Her face brightened.

“I hope you like it! I worked on the recipe a bit and think what I’ve created is very good.”

He kissed her quickly.

“Then let’s go make lunch,” he said, hand moving down to grab her ass.

She laughed.

“Okay, handsome.”

The shower was turned off, and she got them towels, both drying off, Javier finishing before her.

“I’ll need to take care of my hair,” she said.

“Of course,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Do you want me to grab you some clothes?” He asked.

She smiled.

“Can you get me a t-shirt out of the second drawer in the dresser and underwear from the top?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Do you have clothes to lounge in?” She asked.

“Clean jeans?” He replied.

She made a face.

“You don’t own pajama pants or sweats?”

“No?”

“Underwear?”

“Yes?”

She looked surprised.

“Do you wear the underwear?”

He smiled.

“Yes? When I’m working,” he said with a shrug.

It was more comfortable doing his work on the ranch.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You worked yesterday, and there were zero undies on your body when you came over.”

He chuckled.

“I like that you noticed. It’s because I was coming over.”

The realization hit her, and he laughed.

“You don’t wear underwear when you see me for easier access to your dick!”

“That’s one reason,” he said. “Also, less laundry. I don’t like wearing them unless they’re necessary.”

She shook her head.

“We’re going shopping tomorrow.”

He frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

“If we’re hanging out, I want you to be comfortable. So, we’ll get you something better than jeans.”

He felt his chest squeeze. It was like the body worship all over again, having this clear evidence that she cared about him. His throat got a little tight.

“You, uh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Plus, if you’re in sweats or pajamas, you’ll be comfier to lay on when we watch movies.”

He liked the idea of that.

He nodded.

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

He bent his head forward to kiss her.

“I’ll grab your clothes,” he said when they parted.

“Thank you,” she replied.

He left the bathroom, walking naked into her bedroom.

His duffle bag was on the floor by the door, and he stopped there first, grabbing what he needed and slipping on his clean pair of jeans, not bothering to button them.

He went to her dresser, pulled open the top drawer, and stared at her underwear. Eyes roving over the lace, silk, and cotton in various colors and patterns.

“Cielito?” Javi called.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Sexy or comfy?”

He heard her laugh.

“Dealer’s choice.”

He pulled out a lacey white thong and, imagining her in it, had blood rushing south.

“Shit,” he whispered.

He put it back, looking at the choices. He’d only seen her wearing lace, but she had a good selection of cotton and a few silk pieces. She had talked about being comfortable. He nodded to himself, grabbing a lavender pair, and shut the drawer, the shirt already in his other hand.

Javier walked back into the bathroom, seeing that she had just finished her hair. She smiled at him, happily accepting the offered clothes. She held up the underwear.

“I see you went with comfy. I’m surprised. I was honestly expecting a thong or none.”

He watched her put them on, setting the shirt on the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“No underwear was an option?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

“No underwear is always an option, but I’d prefer to wear something,” she said, straightening back up.

“Will you wear a thong at some point?”

She giggled.

“For you? Yes.”

He smiled.

She grabbed the army green shirt, taking a good look at it, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“This didn’t come from my dresser,” she said slowly, looking at him.

“It’s one of mine.”

Her eyes went wide.

“You want me to wear your shirt?”

“I brought you a couple.”

“You brought me shirts to wear?”

“Yeah? Just some old ones I had laying around,” he said with a shrug.

He’d gone through his clothes at home and realized he owned nine t-shirts, bringing her two of them.

She moved forward, throwing her arms around his neck, the shirt in her hand, and leaned up to kiss him.

“This is sweet,” she murmured against his lips.

He wrapped her up in a hug, holding her close to him as he angled his head, the kiss getting greedier, deepening it and pulling a moan from her when his tongue curled against hers.

Her body is soft against his, her presence surrounding him, keeping him in the moment, and not wanting to stop kissing her, until the need to breathe became too much, and he finally had to break away from her, sharing panted breaths as they looked at one another.

“Will you wear it?” He asked, words coming out breathless.

She nodded her head.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He smiled, releasing her from his arms, and watched her put it on, his eyes moving along her body as he took in how it fit on her.

Fuck, she looks good.

This was the best idea he’d ever had. There was just something about seeing her in his clothes that did something to him, and he loved it. He pulled her back into his arms, slanting his mouth against hers in a searing kiss that had a surprised sound escaping her throat, his hand trailing down her back, feeling the material under his fingers until they were on the soft cotton of her underwear, grabbing a handful of her ass and making her squeak against him.

They were breathing hard when they separated, looking at each other with smiles.

“Thank you for the shirt,” she said.

“No problem.”

“You hungry?” She asked.

“Starving.”

“Let’s eat, then.”

He followed her to the kitchen, watching her move about the space with practiced ease, opening the fridge, cabinets, and drawers, and setting different things on the counter for their meal. He asked how he could help, and she’d handed him vegetables to wash—tomatoes, arugula, and an avocado. He took the task seriously, washing them under running water while Cielito got a pan out and placed it on a burner to heat up.

He finished with the produce, and she handed him a bread knife to cut one of the loaves they’d gotten at the market.

Javier eyed all of the ingredients laid out on the countertop. There was a little sealed container that had something that looked like mayonnaise in it.

“I’m trying to figure out your secrets,” he said as he started slicing the bread.

She came over to him, standing behind him at his side as she put her hand on his with the knife.

“I’m going to teach you a secret, if that’s okay?” she asked, looking up at him. He nodded, letting her move his hand. “Don’t push down on the bread—you want to saw lightly back and forth.” She demonstrated the knife easily moving through the loaf with hardly any effort.

“Okay, I can do that,” he said. “How thin do you want the slices?”

She thought it over for a second.

“Maybe a little thicker than regular sliced bread.”

He nodded, and she moved back over to the stove, cutting open the package of bacon.

He went to work, slicing a piece on his own.

“That’s perfect!” She said, beginning to put the meat in the pan.

He smiled at her.

“Have you figured out my secrets?” She asked.

He looked at her.

“You’re not using the usual things I do for a BLT.”

She laughed.

“No, I’m not. The container has garlic aioli that I made earlier this week,” she said, pointing at it. “I use that instead of mayo. No iceberg or romaine lettuce; I go with arugula for an added pepperiness and then the slices of avocado.”

He cut another piece of bread.

“That all sounds good,” he said.

“It is!”

“How much bread do you want?” He asked.

“Enough to make four sandwiches,” she replied.

“Got it.”

He was comfortable and relaxed, happily doing the task set before him, listening to Cielito hum a song he wasn’t familiar with under her breath, between bits of small talk. He smiled to himself, that this was his life now, spending his Saturday afternoon making lunch with his girlfriend after they’d spent the morning going to the farmers market. It’d been a day, but even with the bad, it had been really fucking good so far, and he was happy to spend his weekend with her, doing whatever she wanted.

He had the bread finished, and the remaining loaf wrapped up before she was done cooking the bacon, and he found himself coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her middle, resting his head on her shoulder. Her hand not holding the spatula, set on top of his as she let out a contented sigh.

This was one of those moments he’d dreamed of—hugging her while she cooked, the two of them making another meal together. He pressed a soft kiss behind her ear, and she turned her head, having to lean back a little to get their lips to meet in a misaligned kiss that he felt her body relax into.

She looked him in the eyes.

“Are you happy?” She asked softly.

He smiled, nodding his head.

“I am. I really fucking am.”

She smiled back at him.

“Me too.”

She sighed softly.

“Is this crazy?” She asked.

His eyebrows knit together.

“Is what crazy?”

“Like this,” she said, waving the spatula. “How happy we are—how quickly we’re moving?”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking about how to respond.

“Do you feel it?” He finally asked.

She now looked confused.

“Feel what?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, just that it feels… fucking right. Do you feel that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I don’t think it’s crazy.”

“You sound very sure.”

He sighed and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“Growing up, my pops told me he knew my mom was the one the moment he saw her. She was laughing across the room, and he just felt it in his gut, and they were happily married for over thirty years, until the day she died. I never understood what he’d meant—I had never felt anything like that before. Love at first sight is a fucking joke, and I don’t buy into the true love bullshit, but I think it’s possible there’s a person out there who complements you—accepts your flaws like you accept theirs, and you just work, and your lives fit together? I don’t fucking know,” he said quickly. He took a deep breath. It sounded a lot dumber out loud than in his head. “It sounds fucking stupid, but what I’m trying to say, is I think I get it now, that gut feeling? It all just makes sense, and I think you’re my person.”

She didn’t speak, her eyes on him as his heart raced in his chest.

He probably sounded fucking insane. He opened his mouth to tell her to forget what he’d said, but she spoke first.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” she said softly. “What you said makes sense to me—it is a gut feeling, and I like the idea of there being a person out there who complements me, and it makes me really fucking happy that you’re them, and I found you.”

He felt his dimple when he smiled.

“I’m happy you found me, too.”

She smiled just as brightly, her free hand coming up to run her finger down the bridge of his nose before leaning in to kiss the tip of it.

“I really fucking like you, Javier Peña.”

“I really fucking like you, too, Cielito.”

And he turned her body to kiss her properly—slowly, sweetly, their lips moving together in sync, like a rehearsed dance, until he nipped at her bottom lip, deepening it, and the fingers of one of her hands carded through his hair.

Javier had never once felt lucky in his entire life; he’d felt pretty fucking unlucky with all the shit he’d been through, but standing here in this kitchen, kissing Cielito, Javier couldn’t help but think maybe he was the luckiest man on the entire fucking planet—everything somehow led him to this point, and the only way he could explain it was pure luck.

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[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 8. Summer

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 8 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.8k // 44.5k

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III. Summer

Evie — April 24

Evie drops her head back against the cold ceramic of her bathtub. She had wished when she had first gotten in that the scalding hot water would loosen the knot in her chest. So far, it isn’t working, and the water's already lukewarm.

Evie had given herself the rest of the 21st to mope in her apartment. She put her phone on silent, sat in front of her TV watching old Disney movies, and ate so much ice cream and pizza she felt sick. She had cried all through the Lion King— Hakuna Matata could only remind her of one person now— but she tried to be normal when Tito had called, confirming he had safely landed and made it home.

She pulled herself out of bed the next morning and asked her manager, Gibbs if there were any extra assignments she could be doing. She made sure to have a conversation with Evie about work-life balance, which Evie just blindly nodded through, but gave her a few more pieces to edit all the same.

Evie sinks deeper into the water, thankful that the ache in her muscles has been seeping away slowly, at least. For the past few days, she has been sitting in front of her computer, only leaving to use the bathroom and pick up the take-out she orders.

It hasn’t been bad; the focus has meant that she’s now ahead of schedule on her work assignments, and she's making significant progress on her book. Elizabeth, the agent— her agent— hadn’t given her a deadline, but she knows the book is being shopped around to publishers. The sooner she can get a draft done, the better.

Her conversations with Tito have also returned to a familiar pace; it almost feels like he’s just on an extended road trip. It’s only when her eyes catch on the glaringly empty spots around her apartment that she remembers he’s not coming back.

She slides all the way into the cooling water. She hates getting her hair wet in bath water, but she’s hoping it might force her to think about literally anything else. She breathes out and watches the bubbles rise to the surface.

Yeah, didn’t think so.

She sits up, sending water crashing over the edge. Fuck. She watches her bath mat get slowly darker and decides that’s good enough for now. She steps out and begrudgingly washes her hair in the shower.

She’s still deep in thought, drying her hair at the sink, when she notices the second toothbrush still sitting in the holder next to hers. Somehow, she’s gone the past four days without noticing it. She just stares at it; she thinks she should probably just throw it out, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

Evie puts her hairdryer down and just looks at herself in the mirror. Her skin looks sallower than it should be by late spring; it makes her dark circles more noticeable. She knows she looks tired— she is tired. But she also doesn’t want to take a break. 

Without meaning to, her hand comes up to touch her neck; the bruises there are almost gone now. Her fingers push on the biggest one firmly— barely any sensation. Evie bites her lip as she traces the path they take down her chest. She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut as she turns off the lights and steps back out into her bedroom.

Tito — April 28

Tito decides it’s probably time to show his face downstairs when the clock hits 11 am and trudges down the stairs in sweatpants and a hoodie. He can’t decide if he would feel better if his mom was downstairs in the kitchen or not around. He finds out that he's relieved when he sees her sitting at the dining table. She smiles at him softly and stands up when she spots him.

“Good morning, honey.” His mom pulls him in for a hug, and he just lets himself melt into it. She pushes his hood off and gently smooths down his hair. “Do you want me to make you anything for breakfast?”

He sighs. It feels weird to ask his mother to make him breakfast at his age, but the tug in his chest just lets him nod. “Yes, please.”

“Okay,” she says as she drops a kiss to his temple, pushing him to the kitchen island, “What do you want? Omelette?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, sliding onto a stool, “Thanks, Mama.”

He sits in silence, watching her work, the familiar sight settling some of the unease in his stomach. His fingers pick at the fraying edge of the dish towel in front of him.

“Hey, Mama?” he asks softly.

She hums in response.

“Do we have any tea?”

She turns around, her eyebrows slightly raised, “Tea?”

“Uh… yeah,” his voice quiet.

Her brows furrow for a second before returning to neutral. “Yeah, honey. It’s in that drawer over there,” she says, pointing with the spatula.

He puts the kettle on while he opens the drawer to look at his options: chamomile, green tea, Earl Grey. He settles on what he thinks would be the closest to the one he usually drinks, Earl Grey. 

When he sits back down, he takes a deep inhale of the tea; the aroma does seem to help him relax. He can’t place why he suddenly wants to cry, but he bites his lip to push through it.

He feels a gentle squeeze on his arm. “Come on, let’s go sit at the table,” his mom suggests, and he follows her without comment.

“Thanks for the omelette,” he says, looking at her worried expression and forcing himself to smile before digging in.

Even though it tastes as good as it always does, he finds himself struggling to finish the plate in front of him. He just ends up staring at the plate, pushing the eggs around for some time before his mother’s voice breaks through his haze.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks gently.

“Hmm?” He looks up, startled. “Oh, nothing. It’s really delicious. I just think I’m full.”

She sighs, getting up from her usual seat at the other end of the table and sitting down next to him. She rests a warm, solid hand on his forearm.

“Anthony, you know that’s not what I meant. What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself since you’ve come home.” Her voice is so full of concern he flinches.

“I’m just tired, Mama. I promise I’m okay,” he forces himself to say.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Or if it’s about hockey, your father? Or even Franky. I know this year has been hard for you. Are you worried about next year? Contract talks?”

He swallows hard, “Something like that, yeah.”

She hums mournfully and pulls him into her side. “I know, it sucks. I hate to see you hurting like this. Do you think you’re going to go into the city soon? I think maybe seeing some friends will cheer you up. You’ve been in your room so much it’s making me— You know you can stay here as long as you like. You can stay here for the whole summer if you want. But I’m worried about you. You need to get outside. Take your mind off whatever’s bothering you.” Her hand rubs along his arm as he turns into her shoulder, sobs trapped in his throat.

He is not going to cry right now. He is not going to cry right now. He is not going to cry right now. 

He counts his breathing until it feels a little more under control before sitting back up and sending his mom a small smile. “I know, that’s probably a good idea. They’ve been blowing up my phone for the past week.”

“Is that who you’ve been talking to on your phone? We weren’t eavesdropping, just— You sounded like you’re having a good time, is all. Maybe you should see whoever that is?”

He doesn’t manage to hold in the heaving sigh that escapes his lips. “Yes— Well, no. But I’ll reach out to some of the boys to see what they’re up to. I want to go see the babies too, so I might go and visit Franky soon.”

“Good,” his mom nods, smiling, “Good. You know, your father and I love you so much. Whatever happens with your career, we are so proud of you. So so proud. No matter what, it’s going to be fine— you’re going to be fine. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Mama. I know,” he says wetly.

She leans in to kiss him on the forehead, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “Now, finish your breakfast.”

A fragile laugh bubbles out of him. “Okay.”

Evie — May 4

Evie opens her door in confusion to find Kelsey and Leanne standing there. She can't do anything but watch as they barge inside, clearing her mess and pulling food out of a Thai takeaway bag.

“Uh, guys? What are you doing?” she asks more urgently.

“We,” Leanne starts, voice stern, “Are fixing whatever this is.” She looks at Evie with a pointed stare.

“Yeah,” Kelsey joins in, just as enthusiastically, “We haven’t seen you, and we've barely even heard from you in two weeks.”

“And!” Leanne points, accusatory, “We heard from Gibbs that you’ve taken on like three new projects, and you’ve already finished one of them. Have you even slept?”

“Yeah, you don’t look like you’ve slept.” Kelsey walks over and pokes at her face. “Have you even washed your hair this week?”

“Well, actually, I—” Evie starts to protest and then thinks about it. Kelsey’s right. She hasn’t washed her hair this week. 

“Gigi, what’s going on?” Kelsey’s face softens as her hands come to rest on Evie’s shoulders.

“I mean nothing, really; I haven’t been as focused on work so far this year, so I want to catch up. I guess I’ve been working a little too hard.”

Leanne and Kelsey look at each other, and both roll their eyes. 

“What?” Evie squeaks.

“Go,” Kelsey pushes her to the couch, “Sit down. Go!”

Evie sighs and just complies. To her surprise, they just enjoy each other’s company: hanging out, chatting, and laughing. Over the course of the evening, she starts to feel the deep tiredness in her bones. She feels the dull edges of her mind and the ache in her back. She had gotten so used to Tito’s presence that she didn’t really notice all the ways he had seeped into her life until he was gone. 

It’s a couple hours later when she’s digging into a pint of Cherry Garcia, that they speak up again.

“So, are you gonna tell us how you’re doing now? Honestly?” Leanne prods, innocently blinking at her.

Evie sighs and rests her head on the couch. She blinks at the ceiling and tugs on the strings of her hoodie— Tito’s hoodie. She’s been wearing it every day and hasn’t washed it yet, even though it doesn’t really smell like him anymore.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been kinda M.I.A. recently, huh?” Evie chuckles humorlessly. “After the whole—” She cuts herself off and waves her hands around. “You know? I just wanted to not think for a bit. Just shut my thoughts off. Work’s been good for that.”

“You know you can talk to me— to us— whenever, right?” Kelsey offers gently.

“I know, I know. I just don’t even— Like I made a choice, and I still stand by it— I just…” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think I just miss him more than I thought I would. Like, we still text all the time, and we FaceTime multiple times a day, so it’s not like I could even ask for more. But yeah, it feels really weird now without him here? Just so quiet and empty. Which is ridiculous because this place is tiny and barely fit both of us.”

“You guys never talked about it?” Leanne asks.

“Yeah, even after those hickeys? I mean, we were obviously preoccupied, but I saw the way you both looked. I mean, my god, Lee, you should’ve seen them,” Kelsey says, leaning towards Leanne conspiratorially.

Evie groans and buries her head in her hands. “Don’t remind me,” she mumbles into her palms. “Nothing really even happened. Like, we made out a bit, but—”

“You what!” Leanne screams.

Kelsey laughs, “Oh my god, Lee. When they came around that corner, I swear— You’re telling me, you guys didn’t fuck because it—”

“Oh my god, stop!” Evie groans into her hands, covering her reddening face, unable to suppress her laughs. 

She’s thought about that night plenty: standing at the sink, taking a shower, cooking at the stove, sitting on her couch, typing on her laptop. All. Day. She tries to bury it down deep every time she talks to Tito and sees his sleep-tousled hair when he’s sitting up against his headboard shirtless in the morning light. 

“Earth to Gigi?” Kelsey pushes her shoulder lightly.

“We lost you for a second there. Do you need us to, like, give you some time or something?” Leanne winks, smirking.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Evie tries to glare at them and fails spectacularly, bursting into laughter.

“Wait, okay, so you seriously didn’t fuck?” Kelsey asks once they’ve calmed down.

“No!” she gasps, through giggles, before calming down. “No, we were interrupted—” 

“Sorry,” Leanne winces.

“No, stop, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Evie reaches out to squeeze Leanne’s hand. Evie feels guilty that deep down, she irrationally does hate Leanne a little.

“I know— it just should never have happened. And it fucked up your night. I feel fucking bad about that.”

“Well, don’t. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. It probably would’ve been a mistake anyway. We had our chance, and we didn’t take it. I guess— I guess I’ve been moping a little about that. Just that, you know, it’s too late.”

Leanne takes her hand and squeezes it in return, “I really don’t think it’s too late.”

“Yeah, what Lee said. I don’t really know what you think you’re too late for.” Evie opens her mouth to interrupt, and Kelsey just shakes her head. “No, shut up, just listen, okay? You guys still talk all the time. And if nothing has changed. Then you’re not too late. ‘Cause you guys are already dating— you have been for months— you just don’t know it yet, apparently.”

Evie opens her mouth and shuts it, unsure what to say to that. She stares at her ice cream, pushing the rapidly melting mess around with her spoon. Eventually, she says, “I don’t know. Even if we were, we never talked about it. And it’s not going to matter if he doesn’t re-sign here.”

“You think?” Leanne cocks her head. “Why do you say that? Like, you guys can do long distance. Or, you could move. You work remotely full time.”

Kelsey nods vigorously. “I mean, I don’t want you to move. But— If you didn’t want to move, you can always travel to him during the season however often you’d like. I think if you guys want to, you can make it work.”

“Yeah, if only to see where it goes,” Leanne echoes enthusiastically.

Evie looks at both of them, staring expectantly at her. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

“Honey, not to beat a dead horse, but you’re already dating. You’re more dating each other than Leanne here is with her actual girlfriend of like almost a year—”

“Hey! What the fuck? Why you gotta bring me into this?” Leanne squawks.

Evie laughs as they squabble for a second, muttering, “God, I can never introduce you guys to Barzy. You three would be insufferable together.”

If Evie is honest with herself, she does think about saying something. She catches herself flirting with Tito constantly. She can tell Tito’s thinking about it, too, with the way she notices him flirting back— or just flirting with her in general.

“Seriously, though,” Kelsey says after a while, “You should think about it. About saying something.”

She smirks, “I do think about it sometimes. He keeps FaceTiming me shirtless, or in just a towel, or sweaty after a run. It’s fucking killing me, and I’m pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose.”

Both girls squeal, somewhat deafeningly, demanding to know details. Evie’s tired. She’s tired from working fourteen hours a day for two weeks. She’s tired of hiding, pretending like she feels differently than she knows she does. She’s tired of lying to herself. So she just lets go, allowing them to pull out whatever gossip they like from her lips.

Tito — May 13

Tito sits on a foam plyometric box and pants. For the first time in his life, he hates the soreness in every single muscle in his body. It’s been impossible to find any satisfaction in the burn. He knows that he needs to stay in shape. He also knows that out of all the summers in his career so far, this one's important. He knows he needs to make an immediate impact wherever he lands next season. 

If he’s sick of the gym after only a week, he’s ten times more sick of the calls with his agent. Every time he gets an update, he feels a headache right between his eyes.

“Tired, already?” Francis asks. “Well, you’ve still got two circuits left.”

Tito groans so loudly it draws the laughs of the other NHL guys training around him.

Francis nudges his foot, “You can ignore me, but your rest is up. Come on, get up!”

Tito sighs and follows his brother to the next station. A group of guys have the gym booked after them. Most notably, he spotted Brandon Gignac when they walked a few minutes ago. He thinks about whether he should say hi. He’s worried that it would be obvious to Brandon that Tito thinks about his sister every moment of every day. 

At the next break, Francis interrupts his thoughts. “So who’s the girl?”

Tito chokes on his drink and barely avoids spitting it all over the gym floor. He coughs hard, trying to get rid of the burning feeling in his throat. The smirk on Francis’s face is so smug and so knowing that he wants to just turn around and walk out the gym door. 

“What?” he splutters. 

“Anthony, I’ve literally known you your entire life. You’re always on your phone. Mom says she hears you on the phone all the time. You suddenly drink— what is it? Earl Grey?— well, tea all the time now. Trust me, I know there’s a girl.”

Tito snorts. “Aren’t you supposed to be bugging me about the next circuit already?” 

Francis hums and looks at the clock on the wall behind Tito. “Hmm… You’re right. But we're talking about this when you’re done.”

“No, we’re not,” Tito mumbles under his breath as they walk over to the final station.

They're cleaning off the equipment when Francis sidles next to him again.

“So…?” he starts casually, “Who’s saved in your phone as chouchou with a couple emojis next to it then?”

“What?” Tito says too loudly. “How do you know—” He slams his mouth shut, but he doesn’t quite stop himself from glancing over at Brandon.

“Wait,” Frances says, following his eye line.

Tito tears his eyes away so fast that he gets a little dizzy. “Franky, I swear to god.”

“Wait a sec— Oh my god. Oh my god!” Francis says, too loud.

“Francis! Shut up!” he whispers.

“Oh my god,” Francis leans in closer, even while Tito continues to ignore him, “It’s Gigi, isn’t it? I can’t believe— God, it’s so obvious now, you bring her up in our calls all the time.”

“Francis, I swear I’m going to rip your balls off,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Okay, well, you’re not going to because you love your nephews, and you want a niece,” he grins smugly. “So, are you going to tell me anything?”

“No,” Tito turns to glare at him, “No I’m not, because there’s nothing to tell. We're just friends. Shut. Up.”

He can’t stop his gaze from darting to Brandon in the mirror as he finishes wiping the bench, his jaw clenched so tight he can feel a low throb of pain in his skull. When he’s done, he meets Francis’s eyes again. He thinks he hates the sympathy he sees there more.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Stop looking at me like that,” he grunts.

“Tito, it’s okay if she doesn’t like you. You’re a catch; there’ll be others.” Francis squeezes Tito’s shoulder as they start walking towards the changing room.

“That’s not the— She’s not— It’s complicated, okay?” Tito sighs, frustrated.

Francis scans his face, a look on his face that's so much more ‘dad’ than ‘big brother’ it hurts. I guess that's what happens when you have two kids. 

“You should go say hi, then. He’s looking over here. It would be rude not to,” he whispers. Before Tito can respond at all, he pushes him to Brandon with a wave.

“Fuck you,” he mutters quietly over his shoulder before turning around and sending a smile at Brandon.

“Hey, Tito! It’s good to see you!” Brandon calls to him with a big smile on his face.

“Hey Brandy, what’s up?” Tito smiles, extending a fist bump.

Evie — May 24

“Evie, I'm so fucking proud of you!” Tito’s voice rings so clear and bright through her phone, his smile infectious as he beams at her. “You fucking did it!”

She giggles. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a published author!”

“Well, I can.”

“Oh, stop it. You haven’t even read it; how could you know?” she scoffs.

“Well, firstly, you’re probably the most eloquent person I know—”

“Big word,” she quips.

“What can I say? I like it when you teach me things.” 

She’s mesmerized by the movement of his neck as he laughs. She just wants to reach through the screen and touch the soft skin there. 

“Seriously, Evie. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you still don’t see that. You know better than anyone that they wouldn’t just take on any book. They must’ve also seen how great you are.”

Evie shifts in her seat, “I— I don’t know what to even say to that, Solou.”

Tito sends her a smile that makes a warmth spread through her chest. “You can take me out for that dinner you keep talking about.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, mon chou. Something really fancy,” he grins cheekily, “I’m not a cheap date.”

A nervous laugh bubbles out of her, her cheeks warm at the thought of actually sitting across from him at a restaurant again. They’ve done that plenty, exploring the many different restaurants around Chicago— as friends. She can’t help but wonder if it would feel different as a date. 

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” she says, her voice strained.

They're silent for a moment, both lost in their thoughts, gazing softly at each other through the pixels of their phones. It just doesn’t feel like enough.

“You know, I would accept a McDonald’s drive-thru if that meant I could celebrate with you,” he pauses and sucks in a deep breath, “I’m sorry I can’t be there tonight.”

Her breath hitches, her heart thundering in her chest, “Oh. That’s— That would’ve been nice, yeah.”

He sighs, his face straining against a sad smile. “So, what are your plans tonight? You gonna go out with the girls?”

“Yeah, Kelsey booked us a table somewhere— she won’t tell me where. Just told me to wear something nice.”

“Well, I mean, that’s not going to be hard,” he smirks.

“Shut up.” Evie rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching into a grin.

“You look hot in literally everything. But, if you want, I can help you pick an outfit,” Tito winks.

“God, you’re so—” she groans. Her cheeks are flaming, and she watches herself get redder in the small box in the corner of her screen. She sets her phone down, drags her hands down her face, and emits a silent scream.

“What?” She can hear his voice call smugly through her speakers. “It’s the truth! Come on, show me what you’re going to wear.”

Evie shakes her head, ignoring the small flicker of heat that licks at the base of her spine. That seems to happen every time they video call lately,  the flirting between them becoming shameless. They’ve been playing a dangerous game, trying to catch each other off guard; every so often, she picks up the video call in just a thin, loose-fitting tank top or a loosely wrapped towel.

She sets him up on her nightstand, against some books, and shows him a few dresses she got recently. She catalogs each response for examination later. She knows immediately she’ll be wearing the silk, floral dress that made him bright red and mute for a minute. 

“God, I think that’s the most beautiful— You look incredible, chou. Fuck,” he had whispered eventually, voice tight and strained. She had sent him a wink, did a little twirl, and giggled as she ran off camera to change back into her tank top and shorts. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear him when she sat back down.

By the time they hang up, her cheeks are sore from smiling, and she feels so light and happy despite the ache she feels at his absence.

She opens her Instagram and swipes through all the congratulatory comments on the publisher’s post. Her eye catches on a notification.

@titobeauvi91 mentioned you in their story

She clicks on it to see that he has shared the publisher’s post with the caption, “So proud of my best friend! What an incredible and deserved success. I can’t wait to read the book when it’s out. Watch this space for more details!!!”

She watches it three times, marveling at his unending support, and something clicks in her mind.

She searches through Tito’s Instagram and sends a message to Francis before she can change her mind.

To @tankus22: Hi, I don’t know if you remember me or my brother Brandon Gignac. Or if Tito’s mentioned me. But I was just wondering if I could give you a call sometime about his birthday next month?

Tito — June 1

To chouchou 🧁✨: hey, you booked your flights home for fête nationale yet? i wanna make sure i’m around. barz keeps asking me to go out to BC to see him this summer. chouchou 🧁✨: not yet, but probably going to fly in the friday before? like the 21st or something. To chouchou 🧁✨: nice! you got any plans for that yet?

His mind keeps flicking back to his birthday next week; he feels the stinging pain inside his ribcage. It’s not like he asked her to come. There’s no reason for her to come. He’s not having a big party or anything, just a dinner at his parents’ house. 

His friends might drag him out during the week when he comes back to the city. PLD has been complaining about his ‘sad boy’ status all summer— his words, not Tito’s. He just can’t bring himself to go out, especially now that Brandon’s reconnected with the group. The two groups have largely combined; they’re training together, hanging out afterward, and, more importantly, going to bars and clubs together. 

He likes Brandon a lot, but it makes Tito feel like he’s crawling out of his skin when he’s texting Evie the whole time they’re hanging out. Like he’s hiding something. He’s glad that she told him that they were friends, at least. 

He’s also extremely glad that Francis is usually busy with his family or the new training program he’s running. Anytime Francis and Brandon are in the same room, he sends smug, all-knowing looks at Tito the whole day. It makes him feel off balance, stumbling over his words, his skin too tight.

He picks up his phone again when it vibrates in his pocket.

chouchou 🧁✨: nope! not yet. you going to a party or anything? To chouchou 🧁✨: eh? i’ve been invited to a couple. haven’t made up my mind yet. chouchou 🧁✨: well let me know if you do!

Tito sighs and picks up his Xbox controller again. He tries to not feel too disappointed that he probably won’t see her for a few weeks still. He wishes he didn’t miss her so keenly that it consumes him. At least the Earl Grey tea is still weirdly comforting.

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[phantasmagoriaq]

Writing Pattern Tag Game

Thank youuu @telegraphavekiss for the tag, this was fun!!!

Rules: list the first lines(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern.

1: -You’re all here for Anthony?

2: A sharp ring woke him up suddenly. He could see the light of the phone screen on his nightstand, hands moving messily in the dark as he couldn’t manage to find his glasses.

3: "It’s been a long time. I don’t really know what to start with, I’d like to ask you so much, I need to know so much. Instead, I just ask you, beg you to not throw this away, just stay with me until the end of this, please?"

4: He should’ve really seen it coming. Should’ve expected when no answer came through, or when the line up came out and the name was missing, and still he jumped out of the van, running around the already parked ones, hopeful.

5: -Hi Anthony, it’s uhm… it’s Tim, again.

6: The road moved slowly under his eyes, the low rumble of the engine settling a soft constant rhythm in his head. Steve and Geoff were asleep, Tucker drove silently as Andrew, sat next to him, held up the map that had miraculously avoided getting them lost for the past six years.

7: He stumbled a little on his feet when he got up, head spinning just enough for him to know he had to take it easy. He usually never drank, or at least never drank a lot, so he wasn’t really used to the warmth that kept spreading through his chest, nor to the way his whole body just felt light and very heavy at the same time

8: Warped Tour felt as some kind of fever dream, it was the parallel world the characters get shot into and that takes the shapes of everything they’ve been warned against.

9: They should’ve talked about it. He cursed himself throughout the whole next day, when both them and Circa finished their July shows, when he gave Anthony a hug goodbye and felt him sight against his chest.

10: Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do.

Is there a pattern? I'm not 100% sure, I mean all these are chapters off from the same fic so I wouldn't be so surprised if some elements were similar, they all seem a little boring though so I got to work on making the first phrase catchier. I guess I like, where I can, to start off with dialogues, I try to never make the scene too obvious and usually don't say right away who's the main character/who has the pov in the chapter. I find it funnier to hint it for a little before actually writing down the name, but I guess it shows less here since, again, it's all from the same fic.

I literally know 3, 4 to exaggerate, people on tumblr and two have already been tagged so uhm, I guess I can go with @hibiscusteabag and @tony-ruunaser-alighieri , have fun!!! Plus anyone else that would like to do it and wasn't tagged, go ahead!