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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 days ago

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Chapter 21- Paradise

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

Word Count: 13.9K

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

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

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“We have all of our bags?”

“Yup.”

“Passports?”

“Mhmmmm.”

“Plane tickets?”

“Yes.”

“We’re positive that we have-”

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

My wife.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

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

Your birth control.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“AHHHHHHH!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Pops.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sun, sand, and sex.

Lots of sex.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a dork, you know that?”

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Peña.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your birth control.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whoops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Jav?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m being serious!”

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

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

“You’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about that?”

“16?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, actually?”

“Yes, actually.”

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

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you so much!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

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

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

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

@msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler

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

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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saffusthings · 2 months ago

Text

It's Written All Over Your Face

oscar piastri x personal assistant! reader

summary: the one where they learn feelings can be messy. and weird. word count: 15.9k (...) warnings: abuse aftermath, a sprinkle of angst, don't try this at home kids, poorly edited writing a/n: i have a love/hate relationship with my writing of this chapter, but it seems alright. but it's got a couple scenes i'm excited for y'all to see :) also mc is a Hot Mess but i love her sm

Part 1 | Part 2

“O- Oscar,” she trembles, too busy to be bothered to be professional. “I think s- something’s wrong…”

He pulls her in tightly, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

"Shhh," he whispers. "I'm here. It's okay."

He's trying to be strong for her. He knows that she needs it right now, and even though something inside him is vibrating with fear.

She covered another cough with her hand, only to find it smeared a deep red.

Oh, that's blood.

"Y/N, what happened?" He finds himself asking, even though he already knows the answer.

“I don- I don’t know,” she wheezes.

It’s been a few minutes since Oscar went into the bathroom. Lando also doesn’t hear any of the tell tale signs of two people… well, getting it on - so tentatively, he calls out for his teammate. “Everything alright, Osc?”

"No" Oscar finally manages to get out, his voice choked and thick. "Things don’t look too good. Can you… Can you go get help?"

“What?” Lando rushes in at the first sign that something is not right.

He turns to give Lando a panicked look, his eyes wide and desperate. "I don't know what's wrong - just go get help or something!" he demands, desperate for someone, anyone to help them.

He wants to run his fingers through her hair again - wants to be able to soothe her - but he's worried he'll make it worse somehow.

This can't be happening. This isn’t fair.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come t-to lunch. I was g- going to, b-but…”

Her hands feel cold. Why are they cold?

"No, no," he says, giving her his most convincing smile. "Don't talk, don't apologize - just breathe. Breathe."

He's saying the words just as much to himself, he thinks. His mouth has gone completely dry, and he's sweating profusely. He can't tell if it's from the heat or terror or both.

Lando grabs his keys and reappears in a moment. “We’re going to the hospital. I’ll drive.”

He nods numbly, before forcing himself to think straight. This is not the time.

He tries to figure out how to do that. He's going to have to do most of the work here, but she's already weak as it is. He's going to have to try and carry her. When they finally reach the car, what feels like months later, Lando gestures for Oscar to ride in the back with her.

“Think she’d want you with her,” he explains quietly, before opening the driver’s seat and getting in. Oscar gives the older man a nod, climbing into the back of the car.

She's so out of it now, his efforts to sit her up only causing her to cough harder. He tries to keep his hold on her strong, trying his best to keep her upright on his lap so she'll have an easier time breathing.

"It's okay," he keeps whispering to her, countless times. "It's okay."

“It…” Her speech is getting more and more strained as time passes. “Hurts.”

He gives her a pained smile, trying to hide how absolutely horrible this is really going.

"Hey, I know it hurts right now," he says quietly. "But it's all going to be okay. We're on our way to the hospital now, okay? You've just gotta hold on. You can do that, can't you? Hold on for me, I know you can."

She wraps one of her hands around one of his. The touch is soft, gentle.

It takes him a few minutes to realize that it’s meant to be a firm grip on his hand.

He feels completely useless - more useless than he's felt in his life. He wants to be able to do something, help her out in some way - but he can't. He's helpless here, completely at the mercy of whatever is happening to her right now.

That's something that makes his stomach turn in terror. He's never been this scared for someone else's life before - and he doesn't like it.

As her eyes become half-lidded, he turns to face Lando.

“What do I do? Something is wrong with her, and I can’t tell what the fuck it is,” Oscar asks, frustrated, an undercurrent of panic in his tone.

"Hey, hey, just concentrate on getting her to stay awake, okay? She just needs to stay conscious. Just keep her talking, just anything. Doesn't matter what it is," he reassures him - although honestly, he's feeling just as scared, just as anxious as Oscar. His friend is coughing up blood in his backseat, and these cars ahead just won’t fucking move. In his mind, all he keeps hoping for is that they'll make it just one damn minute closer to the hospital. Just one more minute.

He starts to rub her sides gently - trying to get her to focus. His face is the picture of calm, a soft small on his lips as he soothes her.

"I'm sorry I got grumpy at you earlier. You didn't deserve that. I'll make it up to you later, I promise," he says.

“…Yeah?” She smiles weakly, trying to make him feel a bit better.

"Yeah, I will," he says, trying to sound brave.

Once they reach the hospital, Oscar wraps her arms around his shoulders as he works to prop her up, supporting her weight. He ends up looping an arm underneath both of hers, before he practically drags her along with him. They inch towards the doors of the emergency room, Oscar hoping against all hope that she's still conscious.

He can manage anything - he'll work through absolutely anything if she's okay.

There are no clear images - the entire rush of the hospital sounds like it’s happening… underwater?

She can vaguely register that she’s in someone’s arms - probably Oscar’s. The ceiling lights look more like blurry blobs, disfigured and unclear. She tries her best to keep her eyes open.

Oscar is the one to spot a couple of nurses walking out of the double doors, and instantly, starts striding up to them in a panic. "Excuse me? Help, please!" he calls out desperately.

He's trying to keep his voice from shaking, trying to get her to a hospital bed - and fast. His voice draws the gaze of the nurses, who look at them in astonishment, their eyes widening at the sight of the blood on her shirt. Immediately, they snap out of their stupor and get to work.

"Bring the gurney over!" one of them cries out, as they push one the double doors open, allowing him to rush into the hospital - the girl now limp in his arms.

“…O-Osc?”

He hears the sound of her small voice, the word coming out broken and barely there. She’s speaking, barely, and for now, this is enough assurance for him that she's okay.

"Oh, hey - it's okay, we're at the hospital now. You're gonna be okay, okay? Just hold on to me a little longer. We're gonna get you to a doctor, and it's all gonna be good - you'll see," he tries to reassure her, his hands gripping her shoulders gently - keeping her in his arms.

“I can’t-“ she wheezes out. “Can’t–“

He hears the sound of her labored breathing, and his eyes widen in panic.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay,” he coos gently.” You don't have to talk - just keep breathin’, alright? You just have to keep breathing," he tells her, voice straining to stay even, his knuckles going white with how hard they're gripping her.

“Can’t breathe–“ she finally manages to get out.

His eyes search desperately around for help, for a nurse, a doctor, somebody to come and help her. He’s just about to resume shouting for help when, like a breath of fresh air, he hears the clatter of the gurney being wheeled in, and two nurses pushing it up to him - ready to load her into the gurney.

"Just stay awake," he tells her desperately, his face going deathly pale as she is shifted from his grasp. He only just manages to keep the sob of relief in his throat as he watches them wheel her away from him, towards a trauma room.

The sound around him feels like it fades in and out - distant shouts for an IV, for blood, about a fracture causing a lung puncture leading to internal bleeding. Time is too slow and too fast all at once.

When something pulls at the corner of his mind, it’s only then that Oscar sees Lando trying to get his attention. He feels Lando gently nudging him again, trying to pull him away from the trauma room door - and his head snaps up, almost as if he's been woken up from a deep sleep.

"Huh?" he repeats back to Lando blankly. He blinks and shakes his head, feeling the fogginess in his mind start to clear a little. "What'd you say?"

He feels a little lightheaded - and it takes him a moment to realize it's from the fact that he's still not breathing right, too busy trying to listen to the nurses talk to the doctor through the door. Lando looks at him with a sympathetic expression, pulling him further from the door. "Come on, mate. She's gonna be alright. They've got it handled."

He lets Lando shepherd him towards some of the waiting room chairs - a little bit further away from the door - as he listens desperately, trying to get some hint of what was happening from the murmurs inside.

The only things that actually register in his mind is what he's pretty sure is the sound of beeping heart rate monitors - and the sound of the nurse informing the doctor that there's more bleeding somewhere then they'd originally thought.

For a second time, Lando's voice is what breaks his train of thought.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he starts cautiously, afraid of setting off an emotional trigger of some sort. “But… do we know what happened?”

He blinks, and tries to focus on Lando, and not the faint sounds coming from the trauma room a few feet away. "I don't know," he tells Lando honestly, his eyes going cold like he's about to say something that he really just doesn't want to admit. "… But I'm betting it had something to do with her parents."

Lando’s not sure he understands. While he doesn’t know the exact nature of whatever is going on between Oscar and his assistant, he knows there’s something there. And he’s willing to bet that that means Oscar is the one who probably knows the most here.

His brows furrow. “What, like she’s sick?”

The younger man nods, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."

"I'm fine, Lando," he says quietly when Lando seems to continue to hover nearby - because he thinks maybe Lando's concerned about him, and he needs his best friend to understand that right now, he's okay. "I'm just worried about her."

“And why’s that?” Lando asks knowingly.

"Because she-" he stops himself again, realizing that the one thing he doesn't want to say about her is exactly what he's just about to blurt out. But before he can utter another word, their attention is stolen by commotion in the trauma room.

His head immediately snaps up, eyes wide as he takes in the noise. The heart rate monitor sounds different - the rhythm of the beeping is somehow even more intense. It makes a strange sense of panic encroaching across his chest - the way suspense music in horror movies are meant to, except a dozen times worse.

He can make out the sounds of nurses shouting different medical directives and things to each other.

What the hell is going on in there?

His throat tightens as he takes in the noise. There’s shouting - they're commanding each other to do things, and it sounds like discord. It sounds too hurried, and incessant beeping of the heart rate monitor doesn’t ease up either..

Lando spares a quick glance to check on Oscar, worried for him. He knows this cant be easy for him, and yet, Oscar's face has the serenity of a blank slate. He then turns his attention back to the room, trying to observe and figure out what’s going on through the small windows on the doors to the trauma room. Oscar, of course, does the same.

He can barely see anything through the little window.

It's all flashes of movement, and he's not even sure which colours belong to who - but whatever is happening, it's happening really fast. The nurses are still shouting and the heart rate monitor is still beeping furiously and no-one has come out to tell him what's happening, and nothing about this seems remotely okay.

This isn’t real.

This isn’t real. It’s all he can think, feel - over and over again. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

When Lando turns to look at Oscar, he’s gone pale.

Paler than usual.

“Oscar?” Lando’s voice sounds far away. “Osc? Hey, mate, I need you to look at me, okay? You need to breathe, yeah?” He feels Lando's hands on his face, gripping his chin and turning his head towards him.

He opens his eyes slowly - they're wet.

When did the room start getting blurry for him?

God, this feels like his worst nightmare is coming true.

If Oscar thought he was scared before, when the commotion started?

Then his heart stills in his fucking chest when the commotion is no more.

No.

No, no, no, no.

The silence feels all-encompassing - like it's drowning his senses. His chest feels impossibly tight. The room disappears - the noise around him mutes into a dull roar, and he can't breathe right now. He can't even feel his own fingertips.

“Sir?” A young man tries, attempting to get Oscar’s attention.

His head snaps up at the word, eyes blinking back into sharpness and his vision sharpening in an instant. He looks around, the sound of the nurse's voice bringing him back to his senses.

“Are you…” the young resident checks his clipboard. “… Mr. Piastri?”

The Australian nods quickly, swallowing hard before speaking.

He knows his voice is shaky right now. It's obvious that he's freaked out right now - everyone who walks by him is looking at him like he's going to fall apart, and he would if they'd just tell him what happened to her.

"Y-yeah," he manages, "that's me. That's me. Can you tell me what's going on?"

“Could you provide a valid form of identification? It’s all procedure - we can’t release medical information to anyone except to the emergency contact we have on file,” he explains.

Right. Right.

Provide information. Valid form of ID. Procedure.

It's all very logical. It's all very reasonable.

Oscar nods, reaching for the wallet on the other side of his back pocket. His fingers are only shaking a little, but it takes him an absurdly long time to pull out the card - because he can't remember where he keeps his ID and when he finally does find it, his hands feel some degree of numbness.

Lando puts a warm hand on his. “Mate, breathe,” he whispers, trying to get him to calm down. He’s just watched Oscar fumble with his ID four different times as he fails to slip it out of his wallet.

Lando gives him a small smile that he hopes is at least a little reassuring.

He takes a slow deep breath in and out - his fingers still shaking. Come on, Piastri. He tells himself - but the words ring false in his mind right now when he doesn't feel like he's really fully himself at this very moment.

Someone needs to tell him what's wrong with her.

“Mate, he needs your ID,” Lando grounds him gently.

"Right. Right. Yeah," he agrees, trying to compose himself. It's impossible. He can't think straight.

He finally manages to pry his ID from his shaky fingers, handing it to the man in the powder blue scrubs without another word. The assistant, after taking a moment to confirm, returns his ID and checks his notes before eyeing Lando warily, unsure if he should provide Y/N’s medical update in front of the third party.

He’s not looking to get fired, after all.

When all he gets in turn is a nod of confirmation from her emergency contact, the assistant swallows, and then starts to speak.

"Based on the X-rays and MRI tests, we’ve been able to conclude that Ms. L/N has suffered an extensive lung injury. That's most likely the cause of the bleeding. We've also taken her to intensive care for urgent treatment."

The man in the lab coat hesitates before ultimately continuing.

“Right now, the doctor suspects the cause to be an untreated fracture of her ribs,” he reads off his documents before looking up at Oscar. “We believe that the cracked rib or ribs placed pressure on the lung, causing a puncture and the subsequent internal bleeding.”

Cracked ribs.

He wants to throw up. He thinks he might even dry heave for a second, but he stops himself. "I don't- I don't understand," he tries to say, his voice thick.

Lando watches the blood drain from Oscar's face. He needs to get Oscar out of the situation - out before the dam breaks. So he takes a small step closer and rests a comforting hand on Oscar's shoulder again.

"C'mon," he says gently. "Let's go take a walk, yeah?"

Lando’s caught off guard when Oscar plants himself in that spot, his body resisting the older man’s hold.

"No." he forces himself to say. He can't think straight right now, but he doesn't want to move from the exact spot he's standing in.

He stares at Lando, his jaw clenched, "I'm not leaving until I see her."

“Oscar-,” Lando tries, gently yet firmly using his arm to usher Oscar in the direction of the door leading outside.

He knows what Lando's trying to do - he's trying to help him not freak out in public, he's trying to keep him from falling apart in front of the nurses.

Goddammit, Lando. Leave me alone.

He shakes his head, his hands subtly clenching into fists, "No! I'm not- I don't need to go outside, okay? I'm fine! Just let go of me!"

He glances at Lando, his face desperate, before he repeats his plea, trying to focus on the one thing he wants right now.

"I'm not leaving until we see her."

Lando’s hands come up to both sides of Oscar’s face. They don’t shake him, but they do hold him - Lando’s hands a warm and firm pressure against him. “Mate,” Lando says slowly, evenly. He makes it a point to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not talking sense. I need to know what’s going on, yeah?”

Oscar meets Lando's eyes, taking a steadying breath. "I just… I need to know that she's okay," Oscar whispers, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Okay,” Lando nods, trying his best to be understanding. “Yeah, I’m with you there.”

Lando’s eyes search his face for any indication of what he’s thinking.

"I like her," Oscar says quietly, finally managing to meet Lando's eyes, "A lot more than I should, and I'm afraid she might…"

Oh.

That wasn’t what Lando was expecting. But I can work with that, Lando thinks.

Lando nods, and he understands and for some reason, Oscar feels like he might start crying in sheer relief right there. That, of course, would be horribly embarrassing. His pride won't let him do it, so he holds back. But he thinks he can start breathing a little bit easier, knowing that Lando gets it.

He swallows hard, his eyes closing for a moment as he forces the words out, "With her, it's just… it's different, y’know? Like someone who speaks your language in foreign land, she just-"

He cuts himself off, choking on the words.

“Yeah?” Lando teases good naturedly. Sue him for having a little fun with it. “Sounds like she’s special.”

Oscar nods. "Yeah," he says softly. "She is." He looks up to find him wearing a small smile.

“Say, how’d you bag an assistant like that anyway? No way she came ‘cause of your stats,” Lando shrugs, something smug brewing in the curve of his lips.

Lando sounds genuinely curious as he asks, and it throws Oscar off a bit.

"I…" He stops, trying to force his mind to work right now. "She started out as a junior assistant at the team," he continues, trying to focus, but the memory of her at the beginning - her shy smile, her quiet, gentle nature - it's all flooding his mind again.

"She was… shy. More than shy - she didn't really talk, but- she was so quiet. The others-... they’d crack jokes about it, snide remarks and the like.."

"But when she did talk, she was... she was just so smart. And know how her sense of humor is - hers are the jokes that are actually funny.”

“That so?”

"Yeah," he says, the memory still fresh in his mind. He'd watched, completely entranced.

He'd never thought of taking the assistant out for a drink before, but he'd somehow found himself offering her one that weekend.

"She didn't agree to go," he remembers, his mouth curving into a bitter smile. "I think she thought it was like, a joke or something. Like I was doing it to make fun of her."

"She was pretty wary the first few times," he continues, his voice softer now. She'd always been shy and quiet as his assistant, but once he'd begun to earn her trust, slowly but surely. It was only then he'd seen a different side to her - the confident, sweet, gentle persona that only he was privy to.

"But then she got a little more open, a little more herself- god. It was this beautiful thing."

The idiot’s in love, Lando thinks. But some self-preservation instinct tells him that if he’d like to keep his body and his car intact, then he should keep his mouth shut.

At least this once.

They cross the threshold into the room, the sight of her broken body in a hospital bed greeting Oscar immediately. The room smells overwhelmingly of hand sanitizer, paper products and latex gloves. Fluorescent lights are dimmed, a couple of them on across the tiled ceiling.

She lays there, still and silent - not unlike the way she’d been asleep in his bed just last night. But like sand slipping through his fingers, that image gives way to the one before him: the present.

There’s dried blood on her lips from when she’d been spitting up blood earlier. She’s connected to all sorts of machines - the IV, the heart rate monitor, a couple other things Oscar’s sure must also be important. She’d hate this, he finds himself thinking.

Instinctively, he steps closer.

He’s almost frightened to get too close to her, too scared to make the wrong move somehow as he stands by the edge of the bed. She’s always had an elegance - a grace - about her that’s always commanded his attention. But right now, it’s all gone.

“They had to put her under to stop her from trying to speak or move,” an attendant pipes up, from where she’s been noting down her vitals in the corner of the. “Because of the fracture in her ribs.”

Oscar's face remains the picture of neutral, dancing somewhere between stoic and lost.

“She can still hear you,” he informs him quietly.

He reaches forward, resting his hand carefully on the top of her head, his fingers gently smoothing down her loose strands of hair. “I’m here now,” he murmurs quietly, his voice cracking with an emotion he can’t place. “You’re okay - you’re okay,” he repeats, more to himself than to her.

He watches her for a moment again - she looks more peaceful now, now that he’s standing here, talking to her. His fingers move through her hair, the way he sometimes did when she’d accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder.

“Do you think she can feel too?” he asks aloud, directed towards no one in particular. The attendant has left the room a while ago, but minutes blend together into one long indiscernible stretch of time.

Lando seems to consider the question thoroughly, his brow furrowed.

“I’d say so,” he answers, quietly. “She might not react to it, because of the drugs, but her brain would register the touch regardless. I don’t think there’s anything that would stop her from feeling it.”

He takes his free hand, carefully wrapping his fingers around her much smaller, bruised one.

Lando briefly wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him when the beeping of the heart monitor speeds up by a fraction of a second.

Oscar, on the other hand, remains focused elsewhere. It’s the oddest thing, he thinks - how he was dying to be near her and now that he is, he’s not sure what to say.

Say something, he thinks to himself.

But he’s drawing a blank. Everything he thought he’d say to her in a position like this vanishes from his mind and he’s left standing here, still holding her hand, a complete and utter blank.

He looks down at her face again, studying her. He can make out a scratch on her forehead that seems to disappear into her hairline, and he carefully runs his thumb over it. He stays like that, running his thumb over her forehead, over her eyebrow... until his eyes finally move down to her mouth.

He pauses, watching the slight part of her lips, her lower lip still caked with the dried blood.

He doesn’t quite know why, but all of a sudden the idea of her being dirty, of being covered in blood - of looking so unlike her - feels like venom in his veins.

His gaze is fixated on the dried blood stuck to her lip, and on an impulse, he grabs the tissue that’s resting nearby and reaches forward to clean it away. His touch is so gentle as he brushes the tissue over her lower lip, the dried blood coming off on the tissue.

He wants the image of her, bloody, dirty, to stop plaguing his mind - he wants her to look like herself again.

He continues wiping carefully, his touch feather-light, wiping away the dirt that’s stained her face. She deserves to be clean, to be safe, and so he keeps gently wiping at her lip long after the blood’s gone from her face.

“Osc,” Lando calls tentatively, trying to bring him back to the present from wherever his mind has gone. “It’s alright, it’s okay. She’s clean.”

He snaps out of his reverie at Lando’s voice, stopping the repetitive brushing of the tissue against her lip.

“I miss her too, y’know,” Lando pipes up. He’s not sure whether that’s helpful, but he says it anyway. The younger man doesn’t turn around to look at Lando, eyes still fixed on her face, afraid to miss anything if he loses focus for just a second.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice almost lost as he continues tracing mindless patterns on her palm.

“I’m not saying it’s the same,” Lando corrects gently. “I know that this… this is different. I’m not saying I don’t care about her, but anyone with eyes can see. “With you it’s different. You and her… it’s different,” he finally shrugs.

He doesn’t say anything, but he nods - his only acknowledgement of Lando’s words, not wanting to make a sound in case it disturbs her - in case she’s listening.

“She came to me.”

That makes him lift his head up for a moment, surprised by the statement, and he looks over his shoulder at Lando.

“She… what?” he questions, confused.

He nods, a fond smile on his lips as he reminisces.

“Yeah. Asked me a whole bunch of questions, all about you - what you like to eat, where you like to eat, what kind of gifts you like.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and mutters, more to himself than to Lando, “I have no idea where the hell this girl manages to get so much energy from.”

Lando’s reply is simple, like it’s obvious. “You.”

His brow furrow. Huh?

“Me?” he all but echoes, confusion clear on his face.

“Can’t you see it?”

He can’t figure out what Lando’s hinting at, so he shakes his head.

“I- I’m lost, mate. What d’you mean?”

“It’s… she’s different with you, mate. With everyone else, she’s more guarded, more reserved, more sarcastic. Not that she isn’t charming, but…” he trails off, trying to figure out how to put it into words.

“I don’t think she notices it either. She comes alive whenever you’re around.” For a moment, Luisa flashes in his minds eye.

He turns back to look at her again, his eyes scanning over her face, and then shifts his gaze to their hands - to his fingers, still tracing mindless patterns against hers.

He’s never noticed it - he thought that she always had this energy, that this was just who she was. But different? Oscar isn’t too sure about that. He looks down at her again and wonders why he never noticed anything himself before.

“She’s friendly, always. But anytime it’s the three of us, it’s like I get to be the third wheel to the most awkward and embarrassing old married couple ever,” Lando jokes.

For a split second, the joke makes him smile - a real, proper smile that’s genuine and not forced for any sort of public appearance. And, in that second, he almost imagines what it would be like if they were a married couple - like it wouldn’t be so bad.

“You guys finish each other’s sentences,” he deadpans.

“She’s just good at reading between the lines,” Oscar explains.

But he can’t deny that in spite of that, Lando’s not entirely wrong. Even in all their time alone, they’d fallen into a certain sort of rhythm - an easy flow, like they both just instinctively knew what the other one was thinking at almost all times.

“It makes work easier,” he adds on, trying to downplay it.

“Yeah. Work.”

He ignores Lando’s sarcastic tone - he’s too focused on something else right now.

“She should be awake by now, right?” he blurts out, looking back at Lando.

“I don’t know,” his teammate says quietly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he presses, his tone harsher than he’d intended.

He takes another glance at her face, hoping for some sign of change, some sign of life.

Nothing.

“Just talk. Whatever you want to say to her, anything - you can just talk,” Lando suggests awkwardly. It’s often that Lando finds Oscar a bit difficult to read, but now it’s impossible to know what will help and what will set him off..

“Right, okay, yeah,” he mutters, nodding.

He turns back to her, silence filling the room while he thinks. There’s something he really wants to say, a phrase that’s been on the tip of his tongue for weeks now - but the timing is awful.

He decides to start with something simpler instead. His voice sounds shaky when he speaks up again.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. “…Hey.”

He waits for a response, any response - a word, a twitch, a blinking of the eyelashes - but nothing comes. He takes another deep breath before he continues.

“You’re really stubborn, you know,” he chides. “Stupidly stubborn.”

“Just… just wake up, okay?”

He takes a glance at Lando, who’s standing off to the side and observing silently, before looking back down at her face. But she’s still the same as before - no response, no movement, no sign that she’s even heard either of them.

“Oscar…” Lando starts cautiously.

He has a feeling he knows what Lando’s about to say.

It’s not what he wants to hear.

“No,” he cuts him off before Lando even utters a word. “No, not yet. Just… give her a minute, okay?”

“Oscar…”

“No, stop,” he pleads, his voice cracking for a fraction of a second.

“Os-“

“I said stop,” he snaps back, turning to give him a pleading look. “She just… just give her a minute.”

Lando takes it upon himself to try to limit the damage. He’s already got one friend laying motionless in a hospital bed - he is not going to let Oscar lose it now.

“I just don’t think that that yelling at her will do-“

“I wasn’t yelling,” he bites back, though he knows that the volume of his voice was edging towards it.

“Oscar,” Lando commands, trying to get Oscar to listen.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look back at her. “Sorry, I just…”

Lando’s face molds into a sympathetic expression. He’s usually more comfortable in joyous environments, always the one to crack a joke or make things more relaxed. But here, he forces the discomfort down. Lando Norris is not one to let someone suffer alone.

The Australian knows what he wants to tell her - has desperately wanted to tell her, wants to say it so badly that it’s taking all of his willpower to not blurt the words out.

But the timing still feels wrong - the circumstances around them feel completely off and he can’t bring himself to do it. He looks back at Lando for guidance, Like there’s something the man can do that he can’t.

“She’s easy to talk to, isn’t she?” Lando remembers gas station runs, forbidden slushies and the dark of night as accessories to conversations that never seemed to end. Y/N is eloquent - there’s no doubt about it. Her words can command a room, can simplify the most

“Yeah,” he replies automatically.

“Then just talk to her. She was your assistant, our friend - before she was ever anything else to you,” Lando says indignantly. “Talk to her. Tell her what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. This might be the onl-“

“Don’t.” Oscar is quick to cut him off. “Don’t say that.”

Lando’s lips press together into a straight line, falling silent.

He turns to look down at her again, his mind working overtime as he tries to figure out what to say. Oscar says the only thing he can, sparing no time for niceties or lighthearted anecdotes.

“You have to wake up, okay?” he mumbles, almost to himself. “I need to tell you that you were right about the error in our tyre deg numbers.”

He laughs softly, in spite of himself, as the memory of her being the sensible one for once comes to mind.

“And… and while we’re on the topic, I just need to say that you were also such a pain in the ass during flights, alright?” he continues. “You’re always so difficult with me when we fly together.”

“And don’t get me wrong, it’s almost endearing when you’re all bossy and sarcastic -” he’s talking faster now, his mind speeding through all the things he wants to say to her “- but it makes me want to strangle you sometimes. You drive me absolutely mental sometimes.”

“But at the same time…” he hesitates. Oscar’s never really been a man of many words. He thinks a lot more than he speaks.

He hesitates because it’s the truth - she drives him crazy, in some of the best and worst ways.

“At the same time, I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you, somehow. Despite all the insane, impossible things I put you through, you’re always here for me, always taking care of me, always by my side.”

Her first thought feels like it’s a distant memory, located in some faraway room that she can only think of if she tries with all her might not to let it melt away.

She can feel her fingertips.

He’s rambling, the words tumbling out faster with each sentence, and he doesn’t even notice that her fingers twitch against his hand.

“And I know you never ask for anything in return, I know you don’t expect anything in return, I know you just want me to be happy and healthy and I don’t even know how you just-“

The next sensation she registers is much less kind.

Before she can settle into the moment of unexpected peace, a sharp, stabbing pain pierces her side. She feels like molten lava dunked in ice cold water. She feels painfully cold and burning hot simultaneously.

It’s the way her body suddenly twitches involuntarily, so fast and hard that it jolts him out of his rambling, that he realizes something’s wrong.

“Hey,” he says, gripping her hand a little tighter to get her attention, “hey.”

Her hand twitches once again, but they barely have time to pay any attention to it because suddenly the monitor spikes, sending off alarms, the loud sound blaring through the room.

A cold chill runs down his spine, and his grip on her hand tightens without him even realizing. The next thing he knows, a swarm of doctors are rushing into the room. Instantly, her hand is being ripped from his and he’s looking at Lando with wide eyes.

He jumps up to his feet instinctively, wanting to follow where they’re taking her but being pulled back by Lando.

“Wha-“ he asks, his voice carrying an uneasy pitch, his heart threatening to break his rib cage with how hard it’s beating now. “Will someone tell us what’s going on?”

The words would have been loud, but the alarm bares over them. Everything’s happening faster than they can keep up with - one moment ago he was trying to think of a way to say how much he cares about her and the next she’s being pulled away and the machinery around her is going crazy.

There’s a man in a white coat suddenly ushering them both out of the room.

“Why?!” he demands as he attempts to wriggle out of Lando’s grip, trying to dig his feet into the floor to prevent himself from being thrown out. “What’s going on?!

“No,” he protests, resisting Lando's pulling, “No, I need to see her-”

“Sir, you can’t be in there-“

“Why not?!” he demands, his voice rising in volume. “Why can’t I be in there?!”

Lando has his arm around Oscar's shoulders now, trying to physically pull him away. “Mate, we don’t want to get in the way-“

“No! I’m not-“

He stays frozen there like a historic statue, but the man is physically stronger and he’s not able to break free. It only serves to make him feel more claustrophobic.

Lando sighs. He never thought he’d need to wrestle Oscar. That kid’s got some serious fight in him.

He proceeds to put all his strength into holding Oscar back, trying to usher him into the waiting room. He can’t let Oscar thrown out of the hospital for not cooperating because forget the media circus - he’s not sure Oscar will be able to take not being able to see her.

Lando feels like something in his chest is cracking at the sight of seeing his teammate, his friend, practically his brother - the calm and rational one of the duo - fall apart.

Instantly, when he feels Oscar shift, Lando’s muscles tense in anticipation of holding him back as he tries to break free.

Except he doesn’t.

Lando looks down to find Oscar shaking.

He’s crying.

Oscar’s head is suddenly hung low, and his shoulders are hunched forward.

He’s practically shaking, on the verge of breaking down completely. And it probably shouldn’t be such a surprise - he’s been running on adrenaline the past few days, and it finally feels like his body is finally crashing. He’s leaning heavily against Lando, and it’s the only reason he’s being held upright.

He can’t help but think there’s a chance that while he’s out here, he’s losing one of his best friends.

That could be the last time he’d get to see her.

The possibility of that just makes him cry harder, his shoulders shaking violently despite his best efforts. He’s slumped against Lando now, practically being held up by his best friend. He buries his face in the crook of Lando’s shoulder, not even trying to fight any more.

“It’s okay, mate. You’re okay, you’re alright, yeah?“

The words help somewhat - Lando’s familiar voice, and the firm embrace - but he can’t help the broken sobs. His brain is running through the last few days, the last few hours, over and over.

“I can’t do this,” he rasps suddenly, his voice shaking. “I don’t know how to do it without her.”

“I know, I know…”

“I’ve never even…” he chokes out, shaking his head. “I’ve never even told her-“

“You’ll get to,” Lando winces, trying to console his friend. He inhaled deeply, internally praying to any deity that exists that he isn’t lying to him.

“You will. Breathe, mate.”

Lando stands there, arms locked around the younger man for what feels like forever. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt himself somehow or collapse to the floor. It’s a while later when his body finally loosens up a bit.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles over Lando’s shoulder, his voice still shaky.

“Yeah,” Lando breathes shakily. At least he’s talking. “Yeah, o’course. Let’s get you sat, yeah?”

He nods his head weakly, allowing himself to be guided over to some of the nearby seats. He collapses onto the chair. His head is in his hands, his elbows on his knees, and takes several shaky breaths as he tries to regain some sense of control over his own body.

Get it together.

Lando is awoken a few hours later by the sound of approaching footsteps.

He’s startled and disoriented when he’s suddenly woken up, and he has to spend a couple seconds piecing together where he is. He always did appreciate a good nap.

He tries to process the time - it’s dark outside. He’s in a waiting room chair, and Oscar’s in the seat beside him, sleeping with his head propped up on the palm of his hand.

His eyes instantly lock onto the person approaching them, and he blinks a couple times before recognizing the doctor from earlier. The woman seems nice enough with deep smile lines and warm auburn hair. She speaks quietly, presumably in an effort not to wake the sleeping man beside him.

“Mr. Piastri?”

Lando gives a quick nod, silently gesturing to Oscar as he does. He’s the other one.

He looks over, gently shaking at Oscar’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, mate. It’s the doctor.”

Oscar’s eyes instantly shoot open, and he sits up quickly, any remaining drowsiness from sleep disappearing instantly. He’s instantly alert, his body tense, and a hopeful sort of fear in his eyes.

“Mr. Piastri?” she tries again.

“Yes,” he acknowledges, his voice coming out a little shaky. All the fatigue and tiredness from before seem to have left him at the doctor’s approach.

“Oscar Piastri?” she confirms.

“That’s me,” he nods again, watching her carefully. He’s trying to judge her expression, figure out what kind of news she’s come to give him. His heart is skipping beats, playing some sort of sick game, as he holds his breath.

“She keeps asking for you.”

The words immediately have the tension in his body dropping.

“She- What?” His tone is disbelieving, but there’s a part of him that feels lightheaded with relief.

The doctor smiles warmly at him, happy to be able to give some good news. “We’ve been successful in artificially resetting the bone in her ribs as well as patching the lung puncture.”

Pausing before she continues, she tells him, “In fact, you were very lucky to catch her when you did - if the nurses hadn’t seen her then, she likely would have choked-“

“Is she okay?” He swallows hard, trying to hide his voice shaking. “That means she’s well then, right?”

The doctor nods. “She’s still healing though, of course,” she reminds him, with a hint of an accent filtering through. Scottish, perhaps?

“I can see her?” he asks hopefully, already getting to his feet. “I can go in?”

The doctor nods in confirmation, before flipping a page up on her clipboard. “Just a few things before she has any visitors:

No outside food for the patient, and we wanna be as gentle as possible with her. Let's also try to avoid anything that would cause her stress - she’s just come out of surgery and we want her to recover nicely. Alright?”

He nods quickly, not even really caring what she’s saying to him at this point as long as it means that he can see her.

“Yes, of course. No stress. Gentle. I’ll do whatever you say.”

The doctor shoots Lando a wary look. Lando gives her a weak smile - He's harmless, he tries to tell her. “I need to see her,” Oscar explains, like it's the most obvious thing.

“He just wants to see her,” Lando reassures her. “Let him, yeah?”

Oscar shoots Lando a grateful look, before turning back to the doctor, his eyes practically begging the woman to let him in. She smiles kindly, turning around to guide the young man to Y/N’s room.

"That's funny,” she smiles, the kind that even has her teeth on display. “She said the same thing about you."

For the first time in what feels like so long, he starts to allow himself a spark of hope, and it makes his heart beat a little faster. His eyes roam over the doors on either side of them as the doctor leads him closer and closer to her room, his heart in his throat.

“When she was asking for me,” he asks, aiming for casual. “What did she say?”

The woman glances back at him and gives him a knowing look, like she knows something he doesn’t.

“That she wanted to see you,” she tells him as she stops before a door halfway down the hall. “She kept asking to see if you were here or around - likely to reassure herself.”

She chuckles, a deep, hearty laugh. “But she was quite determined - nearly told off a nurse before we finally calmed her down.”

The thought of her asking about him, and asking to see him, soothes a part of him that he wasn’t even aware was aching.

He lets out a shaky exhale of relief, his entire body relaxing as the doctor stops in front of a room. His gaze locks onto the door, and then back at the doctor, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"Don't worry," the doctor reassures kindly. "Your girlfriend is quite brave. The hard part is over, - she'll be okay."

“She’s not-“ He clears his throat, forcing himself to speak again. “Can I go in?”

"Of course," she replies softly, opening the door for him to enter before turning away to leave them be.

He gives her a short, grateful smile - before finally turning back to the open door. But then his eyes land on her figure on the bed and his breath catches in his throat.

She seems so small, so silent and peaceful. She’s covered in cuts and bruises that look fresh, dark purple and red marks covering her skin. And there’s an IV on her arm and god, he’d tear this place to pieces if he thought it’d bring her any comfort.

His eyes scan over her body, taking in the injuries on her, the way the bruises and cuts are scattered along her skin. His stomach clenches, bile suddenly threatening to rise up and overtake him. It’s more than he’d been expecting - more than he could ever be prepared for, the thought of her in this much pain-

He forces himself to take several deep breaths, steadying himself before continuing to approach the bed - slowly, carefully, like a scared animal.

“Y/N?” he murmurs under his breath. She barely stirs.

He gently places a hand on her shoulder, gently - so gently, mindful of the cuts and bruises scattered across her skin as he tries to shake her shoulder.

"Wake up,” he whispers under his breath, his fingers trembling. “Wake up, c’mon.”

She's disturbed from the thick haze of sleep by the feeling of warm fingers touching her skin.

Huh?

He feels her wake up, her body stirring as he keeps his hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her and reassure himself all at once.

“Hey,” he murmurs, as she starts to open her eyes. “Hey there-“

Eyes still bleary with sleep, her mind races to figure out what's going on. "O- Oscar...?"

She looks tired and disoriented, and it makes something in his stomach clenches. But the sound of his name from her lips is like a cool mist, soothing and familiar all at once.

“Yeah,” he confirms softly, his fingers gently tracing the same circle on her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Hearing Oscar’s voice after so long makes something in her chest feel weird and warm and-

“Oscar.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs, his fingers running gently through the strands of hair at the nape of her neck as his other hand traces small circles at her shoulder.

“I’m here,” he reassures, his tone as gentle as possible. Unsure of what to do or how to approach this, he resigns to standing there awkwardly. “I’m here. You, uh- you asked for me?”

Before she realizes, her face is wet with tears. Warm droplets trickle down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and onto her neck. She can barely see Oscar through her blurred vision.

“Whoa, whoa, shhhh,” he murmurs, trying to soothe her. “Hey, s’alright - shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here.”

He reaches forward, gently brushing the tears off her cheek. As the sniffles finally subside and Oscar takes a seat by her hospital bed, she turns her head toward him, taking in his presence. Every detail is one she’s trying to commit to memory - the swoop of his hair, the warmth of his eyes, the freckles that decorate his skin.

He tries to keep his expression encouraging, reassuring as she stares at him, but he’s sure that he looks as terrified and devastated as he feels. Instead of commenting on his own state of mind, he tries his luck. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?”

“Can we go?”

He tilts his head, not entirely registering what she’s said.

“What?”

She blinks once, slowly. “I want to go. Can you take me-“

“No,” he replies abruptly - before catching himself, mentally scolding himself for the sharp tone he’d used.

Instead, he tries to soften his tone as he gently adds, “No, Y/N. You need to stay here - you’re hurt, and you need medical care. They need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine now,” she tries. Whether it's the medications or the sleep or whatever the hell is supposed to be in that IV, she has to find her thoughts through a haze. “They fixed me, remember? I can-“

“No, sweetheart,” he replies gently - but his tone is still firm. “You’re not leaving. Not until you’re properly healthy.”

She turns away, cross.

“You might feel fine now, but you- you were really hurt. You need to recover, and these people know how to take care of you,” he tries to explain.

“Whatever.” The syllables slur ever so slightly, making it sound more like whud-ever.

“It’s not fair of you to be mad at me for this,” he argues.

Her words are icy cold. “You can go now.”

His jaw clenches again, as he feels irritation stirring along with it.

“No,” he retorts, his voice still firm. “I’m sticking right by your side.”

“What if I don’t want you here?”

He falters at her words, something in his heart clenching.

“That’s not fair,” he retorts, the hurt clear from his voice. “You’re mad at me for no reason.”

She turns over, and continues her silent treatment.

His irritation boils over, and he grits his teeth for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to settle himself down.

“Hey,” he murmurs, fondness bleeding through his voice inadvertently. Placing a hand on his shoulder, gently trying to turn her towards him. “Don’t be mad at me. Just- just talk to me.”

“I don’t wanna,” she mumbles gruffly. “I want to go home.”

He swallows against the painful lump in his throat that forms when he hears the word “home” from her lips.

“I know you do,” he answers, his voice gentle. “And I know you want to be out of here, but they’re trying to take care of you, yeah? This is the best place for you right now.”

She keeps ignoring him, hoping he’ll eventually go away.

He can feel his irritation rising as her silent treatment continues - trying to drown out the voice in his head telling him that she’s just scared and confused, and that she doesn’t really mean it.

“Stop it,” he tries again, his patience starting to run thin as he grabs her shoulder, and turns her towards him this time. “Don’t be like this. You have to know I'm trying to help.”

He’s only greeted by more silence.

He’s silent as well for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the heart monitor, watching the steady rise and fall of the screen, the steady, slow beeping that tells him she’s okay, she’s okay.

He tries to keep his voice quiet and steady, to avoid letting his frustration show. “Please just say something. Don’t do this.”

The silence is deafening, and he hates every second of it.

With a small noise of frustration, he reaches out to grab her shoulder, his fingers wrapping gently around it as he tries to pull her towards him. When she’s forced to turn, he finds she’s hastily wiping away tears.

All of the irritation and frustration and even a little bit of anger immediately evaporates, leaving only the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her until she feels better. Without thinking, he gently uses his hand on her shoulder to pull her towards him, helping her up into a sitting position and then gently pulls her against his side, wrapping a secure arm around her.

He’s quiet for a moment, just holding her close to his side as he feels her body shaking against his. He moves the hand that’s wrapped around her, sliding his fingers gently into her hair, gently massaging her scalp in an attempt to help calm her.

“You can cry,” he murmurs gently against her head, placing a gentle kiss against her hair. “It’s okay, s’alright.”

“M’not,” she mumbles. “I don’t want to be here.”

“I know. I know you don’t..” he sympathizes. “But you need to be here for a while - you need to rest.”

She plays along. “Yeah,” she sniffles. “I s’pose so.”

His hand moves without consciously meaning to, wrapping a gentle hand around her other shoulder and pulling her entirely into his side, so that she’s practically falling against him, leaning heavily against his torso.

“Right,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just rest, okay? Rest - I’ve got you.”

He keeps her close against his side, still absently moving his fingers through her hair as he tries to keep her calm and settled. But what comes out of his mouth is, “You’re still mad at me, huh?”

“Actually…”

He lifts an eyebrow, his hand briefly stopping the soft massage, his heart briefly stopping when it does. “Actually?” he prompts gently.

It’s a wonder that Oscar doesn’t comment on how heart is thudding against her chest. Maybe its because he’s being polite. Yeah, he seems like the type to do that. Or maybe he doesn’t have good hearing. Stallard should probably know about that-

Her mental rambling is only cut off when somehow, words tumble out of her mouth, seemingly of her own accord. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to lay in the bed,” she mumbles, except the words come so rapidly that they’re barely understandable.

Immediately, she goes to backtrack. “Or not! It’s fine actually-“

For a moment, she watches as he just blinks at her. It’s a little disconcerting, really.

“Move,” he instructs her softly, gently maneuvering her so that he can climb in the bed beside her. Eh, he figures. They’ve been in worse situations than this.

Once he’s settled behind her, he pulls her back closer to his chest, tucking her tight against his side, her back against his chest, and wrapping an arm snugly around her waist. He closes his eyes, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Better?”

“Mhmm,” she hums contentedly.

He can feel himself smiling as he relaxes, his body melting against hers. He feels her relax against him as well, her shoulders losing some of their tension, and his free hand moves to rest gently on her stomach.

It’s over two hours later when Lando starts getting fidgety - the man is not exactly known for his ability to sit still. It’s been a while since he’s heard from his teammate, and he hasn’t heard any updates. Once Lando reaches his third round of pacing, his phone finally lights up with texts from Oscar:

She's okay

Doctor says she'll be alright

But we're both tired, so I'm going to stay the night.

Oscar glances down at where Y/N is resting against his chest, and he feels some of the tension leave his shoulders.

Lando successfully forces sends Oscar home to get some real rest before tomorrow’s free practice - only after Oscar makes him swear on his favorite golf club that Lando’d call him immediately if anything happened. He grabs an extra chair and pulls it over so that it sits right by her bedside, and he sits down on it, watching her.

The sight of her like this feels incorrect, like those AI images that distort reality. The hospital room, the tubes, the bandages and the bruising and the cuts - none of it looks right. His mind struggles to wrap itself around how her parents could have done this to her.

He’s lost in thought, his knuckles absently running up and down the back of her hand, when suddenly, her eyes flutter open.

“…O- Osc?”

She’s disoriented when she first opens her eyes, confused to find herself still in a hospital room when she’d fallen asleep beside Oscar. But then she looks up, and she sees Lando’s face.

“Hey… hey,” he says softly, smiling gently down at her as he keeps his voice quiet. “It’s me.”

“Oscar? Where’s Oscar? He was just…“ She looks around, confused. How much morphine have they been giving her?

“He’s at home,” her companion corrects eagerly, his voice gentle. “He had to go home, get some proper sleep. But he let me chill here and hang out with you.”

“He left?”

“Yeah,” he says gently, still speaking softly. “Only for the night, though.”

He keeps rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, trying to soothe her before she gets more upset than she already is.

“Oh.”

Lando’s heart clenches with pity when he notices the look on her face, her expression fallen, and his voice drops even further down to a whisper.

“I know you’re disappointed,” he consoles quietly. “But believe me when I say he needs the rest. You’ll see him again soon.”

Lando takes a moment to examine her in the hospital bed. He doesn’t need to be a doctor to notice how small she looks in the hospital bed - she always is in comparison with him and Oscar, but this just highlights it even more.

“How are you feeling right now? Are you in any pain?” he asks, his voice still lowered.

“I’m… feeling much better, actually,” she says carefully. If she lays it on too thick, Lando won’t believe her. “The meds have been helping.”

“You sure?” he asks, his voice doubtful, looking at her in a somewhat skeptical manner. “You’re really not in any pain?”

“Just a bit of discomfort, but that’s it,” she lies through her teeth. In reality, any real jostling of her midsection sends a searing pain through her side.

Lando gives her an uncertain look, still not fully convinced by her reassurances. His eyes search her face for any kind of hint to her real pain level, but she’s gotten too good at hiding it over the years for him to tell now.

He sighs. “Okay, fine. But if that changes, you’ve got to tell someone, alright?”

“Of course,” she smiles.

He gives her a look that says he’s still not convinced, but decides not to press the issue.

He returns the smile, gently squeezing her hand.

“Good.”

A beat.

“Are you hungry, thirsty? Or… or something?”

“I’m alright,” she answers, but is immediately interrupted by the sound of her stomach grumbling.

He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. ‘Alright’, huh?”

He takes the hint though, standing up straight and offering her a smile. “You stay put. I’ll go find a nurse and see if I can get you something to eat or drink.”

Like she can go anywhere. “Lando?”

He’s halfway out the door already, but he pauses in the doorway, turning back when her voice calls out to him. “Yeah?”

“Think the cafeteria has mac n’ cheese?”

“Macaroni and cheese?” He repeats, sounding amused, but he’s still somewhat confused by it. “Like, mac n’ cheese, specifically?”

“Just a craving,” she mutters sheepishly.

“You are… something else,” he chuckles, shaking his head. Bringing his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, he declares, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you! You’re the best!” she whisper-yells after him,

He turns to head into the hallway again, and he throws a smile at her over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.

He returns to the room about fifteen minutes later, a large mug of hot tea and a bowl of what smells like shepherd’s pie in his hands. “Made you a cuppa,” he informs her, before her gaze lands on the fresh goods.

“Is that-“

Lando holds the steaming box out to her with an amused smirk, clearly proud of himself for his accomplishment. “Shepherd’s pie,” he confirms confidently, giving her a smile. “Just as you ordered, madam.”

“You didn’t.”

He grins, holding it out to her - he actually went and did it.

“I did indeed.”

“Wasn’t it closed?” she asked as she brought the tray table closer to herself, eyeing the comfort food with delight.

The first bite is so good she has to close her eyes to savor it. The warm, hearty food feels like manna from heaven for her weakened body - she could cry tears of joy. There’s no way this food was made in a hospital cafeteria.

Lando sets the tea on the table, watching her as she tries the food, and can’t help the smile that spreads on his face when he sees how pleased she is with the food he chose.

“Closed, yes,” he says, sitting back down on the chair he’d previously been in. “But I’m very charming and persuasive.”

“So you ordered it from a shop.”

He grins.

“And who’s the smart one?” he asks, watching her eat. “Turns out the place next door does a pretty amazing Shepherd’s pie. Who knew?”

She’s too happy at the food to be bothered to tease him back. “This is amazing, dude. You’re the best.”

He can’t help but smile again, watching her enjoying the food he got like it’s the best thing she has had in years. He’s happy to have done this one thing to make her happy - he can’t help but tease, though. “Well, you know…”

He sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“I am pretty great.”

“Alright, alright,” she says, waving him off. Now that she’s gotten a few bites in her, she gets a bit quieter. Eating and chewing is a surprisingly exhaustive task for someone who’s still on the mend.

She wipes the corner of her mouth, before finally turning to Lando.

“How is he?” she asks quietly.

He’s a bit surprised when she shifts the conversation, turning to ask about how Oscar is doing now, but he still answers willingly.

“He’s…” Lando hesitates a moment, searching for a word that would most accurately describe the situation .

“He’s… not great right now,” he says at last. Might as well be honest. “But… I think he’ll pull through. He’s a bit of a mess, but he’s… alright.”

“Yeah,” she sighs softly. She doesn’t look at Lando as she says it, feeling too responsible for his predicament. Instead, she tries her best to clean up after her meal - wrapping away the leftovers that feel like too much work to eat right now.

She gives her friend a tired smile before yawning. “Do you think it’s okay if I get some rest?”

He eyes her carefully, noticing the exhaustion on her face. “Yeah, f’course,” he assures her, standing up from the chair. “You’ve had a long few days. You should rest while you can.”

He takes the leftovers and sets them on the bedside table, before pulling the blankets up to her shoulders.

“Thanks, Lan,” she hums, before her eyes fall shut.

Lando doesn’t know when his own eyes fall shut, but they do.

Oscar does not, in fact, return.

Over the course of the next few days, Y/N gets very familiar with the hospital’s jello variety. She decides that she likes fruit punch the most, but that isn’t much of a surprise. What does surprise her, however, is when she wakes to a beautiful bouquet by her bedside. It’s an elegant collection, a haze of lavender florals - peonies and chrysanthemums - beautifully framed by stems of baby’s breath.

She eagerly reaches for the gift, excited to examine it up close. There’s a note tucked into the silk white ribbon that ties the wrapping together - a small cardstock thing that seems to have something written on it. Carefully plucking it out with her fingers, her eyes drift across the angular scrawl, penned in black ink.

“Heard you decided to sit Silverstone out. Don’t worry, it

was boring anyway. You know it isn’t the same with you.

I’ll swing by sometime with bad puns and greasy pizza.

That’ll fix you up real quick, trust me.

Get well soon, Loser.”

A smile blooms on her face as she reads the thoughtful words. She searches the note, trying to find the identity of the sender so she can at least send them a message of gratitude. Turning the card over, there's a misshapen looking smiley face next to a familiar name.

Love ya,

Logan

She’s lucky to have a friend like Logan - another American on the paddock, one who’s taken up the role of annoying older brother. They’d met through Oscar, initially - back in those early weeks of their rookie seasons. But then the conversation went to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza, and then the rest is history.

The card is returned to her bedside table as shuffles in her bed, turning over to get comfortable so she can take a nap.

Letting her head sink into the starchy fabric of the hospital pillow, she tries not to think of the feeling that rose up in her throat when the name on the card wasn’t the one she was looking for.

Lando wakes up to his butt uncomfortably numb. Someone seriously needs to work on a better replacement for these inconvenient contraptions disguised as chairs. Isn’t the hospital meant to make you feel better?

Lando’s fairly certain he was much better conditioned when he walked in this morning - at this rate, they may just have to wheel him out.

“-and this one you’re going to take orally 3 times a day, alright? So that’s every 8 hours, to help reduce pain and any inflammation.”

Lando blearily blinks at the noise, but the words slowly get his brain up to speed, and he sits up a little straighter. He glances at her, who looks about as sleepy as he does - her eyelids look heavy, and her voice is still a little hoarse from sleep.

“Okay,” she nods, taking the meds from the doctor, and putting them away in a bag by the bedside.

The doctor checks something off on her clipboard, before looking back up at the young woman seated on the side of the bed.

“Right then. And do you have someone with you at home who’ll be able to keep an eye on you these next few weeks once you go home today?”

Suddenly, Lando really doesn’t like the doctor or the way this conversation is going. He doesn’t like the idea of her being all alone for the next few weeks. With all the medication she’s on, she’s not going to be able to drive.

She nods. “Yeah. I do. I live with my boyfriend,” she smiles reassuringly. The lie is so good that it even has Lando confused.

She has a boyfriend? That she lives with?

Lando’s immediate next thought is, Does Oscar know?

But he keeps quiet as the doctor continues to finish up her lecture about Y/N’s instructions for care. Lando sits there quietly, not knowing what to think.

Boyfriend? That’s news to him. If she had a boyfriend that she was living with… wouldn’t he have known that?

He watches her as she quietly nods and talks with the doctor, and he’s left to wonder how long this boyfriend has been around. When the doctor finally leaves and the room goes quiet again, Lando lets out a little yawn and then turns around in his chair to face her. There’s a confused, almost suspicious look on his face as he regards the girl.

“So… you have a boyfriend?” Lando doesn’t know if he feels protective or betrayed, but neither make the conversation less awkward. In all the time the three have spent together, the young assistant has barely, if ever, brought up her dating life. Probably because she’s in love with her Google calendar.

“Hmm?” she says, gathering her things. Finally, free at last.

Lando can’t really blame her for wanting to get out of a hospital bed and away from the crappy food. But he also hasn’t forgotten about her boyfriend comment from earlier. He looks at her skeptically. “You said you live wit’ your boyfriend, do you?”

“Oh,” she shrugs. “Just told the doctor what she needed to hear so I could get outta here.”

Lando blinks at her - and he’s left with the sudden, weird urge to laugh for the first time all night. The Briton stares at her for a few more seconds, trying to sort out the mixed bundle of feelings running through his mind. Then, teasingly bumping his shoulder with hers and grinning like the cat who got the cream, he finally manages to ask, “So… Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” she says with a wave of her hand, like the mere notion is ridiculous. “Single as a pringle.”

“Yeah? That’s not what you told the doctor, though…” He sing-songs. If she is actually seeing someone, then Lando can’t help but be happy for her. He’d be even happier though if it was Oscar - then he could finally make good those on that cash from some of the other drivers.

Lando hums. He’s been meaning to add a new Richard Mille to his collection.

“She wanted to hear that I had someone at home in case something went awry. So that’s what I told her,” she explains simply. Once she’s done packing her things, she turns to Lando. “Ready to go? Oscar has a meeting soon and I’d like to be there for it.”

“So let me get this straight,” Lando says, no longer thinking of luxury watches. This time when he speaks, the tone of his voice is quite clear that he’s not happy with what he’s hearing. “You lied to a medical professional - told her you were living with a boyfriend - so you’d get discharged earlier… and there’s a meeting at work?”

“Yes,” she deadpans. “Now that you’re all caught up, can we go?”

When they arrive at the MTC, it’s business as usual. They each go their separate ways - Lando off to do whatever it is that Lando does, and Y/N to her office. She turns into the familiar space, dropping off her things, and taking inventory of the stack of papers that have accumulated on her desk in her absence.

Oscar’s sim session was okay. It wasn’t the greatest practice he’s had, but it wasn’t a complete disaster of a session either.

He tries not to think about the fact that he’s only semi-focused on the practice. His mind keeps wandering away from the simulator, and his eyes find their way to the office door that’s right across from the simulator room, where a familiar name plate adorns the door.

He shakes his head. His mind has been imagining her in this familiar setting - filling in the gaps where he’s used to her being. There’s been at least three occasions where he’s walking into her office, caught up in his theories or hypothetical to remember for a moment that she isn’t here.

A member of the janitorial staff saw him one of those times.

It was embarrassing, to say the least.

And yet his mind continues to picture her sitting at her desk. His brain supplies an image of her - a memory? - her, hard at work on her laptop or tablet, completely immersed, headphones on, chewing on her pen.

Except, when he blinks… the image of her is still there.

What the fuck?

“Good afternoon,” Y/N greets, trying to keep her voice as casual and even as she can.

He nearly jumps up at the sound of her voice - but it’s also a familiar, welcome sound. Before his mind can catch up to his brain, he lets out a blunt, “You shouldn’t be here.”

She flinches ever so slightly at that.

“Was discharged this morning,” she smiles professionally, trying to keep it light. She decides to leave out the part where she orchestrated her own discharge from the hospital so that she could be at work, because she has a feeling that her boss will not react well to that.

He wants to be relieved. He does. But he also can’t stop the feeling of annoyance at the idea of her returning to work within hours of being discharged from the hospital.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” he starts, and the irritation he feels is definitely showing in his voice. “You were discharged this morning, and you came here?”

Her lips press together into a straight line. He’s the one who’s annoyed?

“I am here now. Whether you choose to utilize my services or not is, of course, up to you.”

“That’s not an answer,” he counters, walking towards her. He’s definitely trying to suppress some feelings right now - irritation, relief at the sight of her, and something else that he can’t place.

“You’re supposed to be resting - not here,” he stresses, his stance and tone both authoritative.

“Oscar,” she hisses lowly. “I believe we have a guests.”

Y/N points her gaze in the direction of Zack and Andrea who seem to be making their rounds this morning, the CEO and team principal respectively. He turns to see both Andrea and Zack walking by and greeting people in the nearby rooms, handshakes and half hugs.

He can’t lose his cool now, even if what she’s doing right now is downright idiotic. He clenches his teeth, his jaw tight, but he manages to keep his irritation tampered down.

She can’t help but feel a little hurt by that. After everything, he could at least pretend to be happy to see her.

“Thank you, Mr. Piastri,” she says sarcastically, before plastering a fake smile onto her face. “Anything else?”

The too-tight smile she throws his way is unexpected.

He tries to ignore the fact that it makes him feel like the world’s biggest dickhead.

“Er… no,” he says, sounding a little unsure. “That should be everything.”

“Very well,” she nods curtly, before walking off to god knows where.

She sets course for her office. When she reaches the sleek door, she pushes against it with, letting herself inside.

Taking a seat on one of the armchairs placed by the coffee table, she leans her head back against the cushioned backing. Unshed tears of frustration stay locked in her chest, taking a deep sigh instead.

Why the fuck is she so worked up about this?

Everything is fine - she has no idea why she feels like shit. Oscar’s reaction to seeing her back from the hospital doesn’t mean anything.

It shouldn’t mean anything. Right?

He watches her leave his office, and the whole time - the whole time he feels like he can feel the disappointment radiating from her.

It’s unwarranted - she has no reason to be pissed at him when she’s the one who’s being an idiot, he tries to convince himself. But he doesn’t quite manage.

He knows he’s in for a long evening.

The nagging feeling in his gut leads him to her door. There’s no reason to be nervous, right? Y/N has been here for the good, the bad, and ugly - sleeve deprived rants and mood swing and one drink too many and even giving him a ride from the sheriff’s office that one time he caused a fender bender.

Before he thinks it over any more, he pushes again the elegant oak door.

Her office is some combination of elegant and cozy. To one side, there is a sitting area - cream coloured armchairs he’s been a frequent visitor of. Against the wall, navy bookshelves frame both sides of an art piece, the shelves of books punctuated by hand crafted decorations.

To the far end of the room is where her desk is, a large monitor displaying the McLaren logo adorning the glass wall. There’s a few picture frames oh er desk that he’s seen dozens of time’s before - a little boy at his first soccer game, friends at a birthday party, someone posing at the top of some rock formation. Her vase has been filled with dainty lilac flowers.

Her tall, black office chair sticks out, and it’s there he finds her, face illuminated by the glow of the computer she’s diligently working on. The clacking of keys is the only sound in the room, interrupted only when she turns to note something down.

She’s a vision. A beautiful, perfect vision, with her hair pulled back into a claw clip, loose strands framing her face. And he’s frozen in place, unable to do anything other than just stare.

His heart is racing out of his chest, and after seconds of just staring, he tries to get his mouth to work.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks gruffly, surprised by how rough his voice comes out.

“Get lost, Lando,” she grumbles without looking. She’s not in the mood for Lando’s attempts to cheer her up - she just wants to be a miserable workaholic in peace.

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at that. It’s a quiet one, but hearing her think that he’s Lando amuses him.

“What, no time for me?” he asks, the tone of his voice teasing even though he’s feeling anything but on the inside.

Her eyes fly open in recognition, before she returns her attention to her desktop. Her eyes focus themselves on the facts and figures, making it a point not to pay him any attention.

“I’m not in the mood,” she mumbles, still upset from earlier. What is he even doing here?

The silent treatment, really? After he spent the whole afternoon worrying about her? She doesn’t get to just ignore him after he spent the whole day unable to function.

That thought makes him start to feel irritable. “I don’t care what ‘mood’ you’re in,” he snaps, not caring how harsh he sounds.

There’s something about the way she’s avoiding his gaze, ignoring him - she’s doing it on purpose. She’s making a point of deliberately looking away, looking elsewhere. It makes him frustrated, it makes him feel raw, like he’s suddenly vulnerable, out in the open.

“Look at me,” he says in an authoritative tone, his irritation seeping into his words.

“Don’t want to.”

His jaw clenches at her response. She’s being petulant, and maybe he does deserve it, but god does it piss him off.

He walks closer to her, stopping right before her and blocking her from moving any further away.

“I said look at me,” he repeats, his voice coming through gritted teeth.

With a roll of her eyes, she brings her gaze to his face.

He tries to resist the urge to immediately look her over - to make a visual catalog of each cut, bruise and injury on her skin, to catalog which specific shade of blue and red every mark is, to count how many stitches are on her forehead - to catalog the full extent of the damage that’s been done.

Instead, he forces himself to look into her eyes, his irritation turning into intense, barely concealed anger.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back today,” he accuses, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Well, here I am.”

There’s more clicking, a shift in the color of the light reflecting her face as she switches between tabs. A beat of silence passes over the room.

“You done?” she says with a raised eyebrow.

Nope, he’s not done. He hasn’t even started.

“No, actually,” he shoots back, his anger bubbling up at her feistiness. “We’re not ‘done’ until we actually have a real conversation.”

“What are you on about?”

“You heard me,” he says, his voice more firm in response to her disbelief. “If you think we’re just pushing this to the side, and act like everything fair and dandy, then you’re very mistaken.”

Finally sparing him a glance, she tells him nonchalantly, “I don’t see much for us to talk about.”

His face scrunches, eyebrows pinching together as he holds back a scoff. “I’m the one over here who’s trying to fix whatever the hell this mess is,” he points out, gesturing with his finger between the two.. “I’m the one who’s actually worried about you, after what you went through -”

He breaks off abruptly, not wanting to go there.

She whips her head to the side when she hears that.

“Fuck off,” she spits, almost-tears in her eyes. “You don’t get to act like you care about me whenever you feel like it and then decide you don’t whenever you want.”

“Goddamnit - that’s not what I do!”

Anger is rising in his chest. Does she really think that he only cares when he feels like it? Does she have any idea how much time he spends worrying about her, how many times he has to hold himself back because he’s worried of crossing a line?

“You just don’t want to accept that I do care about you,” he accuses, his voice rising, his temper flaring.

Her reply is immediate, a pre-loaded bullet.

“No, ‘Hi, how are you?’ or ‘Glad to have you back.’ No, instead,” she scoffs, “the first words out of your mouth after you see me is, ‘You’re not supposed to be here?’”

That stops him in his tracks.

His eyes widen in realization as he’s suddenly hit with the realization of just how cold and shitty his first words to her had been.

No greeting, no ‘good to have your back’, no ‘glad you’re okay’ - just accusations. His heart clenches in his chest as he realizes it - how careless he must have sounded.

“You know,” she laughs humorlessly, like it’s an inside joke that only she is in on. “I can’t believe I was foolish enough to think that night meant something to you.”

Images of that night, what feels like years ago, flash in her mind - his tender touches, his caring whispers, those soft kisses they shared. The way he’d confessed how much he cared about her as he patched her up, how he’d come to her aid when she needed it most.

“But apparently not. Because apparently it’s really easy to ignore me for a whole week, to give me the cold shoulder all day, right? To make sure you have anyone else to replace the work I do for you every day?”

The words feel like a slap to the face.

He feels the anger in his gut subside, being replaced by immediate regret.

“That’s not what it was-” he stumbles over his words, his voice coming out more pleading than he’d like to admit.

“That’s not what any of it was,” he shakes his head emphatically, trying to make her understand, make her see that he didn’t mean to come off the way he had. “I was just- I was just worried about you, I-”

“Tell me you didn’t have Kelsey schedule your meetings then. Or have Hendrix manage your correspondence. Or, maybe you didn’t specifically ask for Annika to run your errands just so that you wouldn’t have to talk to me.”

His heart is in his stomach. When she says it like that - lists all his actions out in such a clinical way - it sounds so damn manipulative that he doesn’t have an immediate response.

“It wasn’t like that-” he tries to protest, trying to say something, anything to make her understand that no, that wasn’t him trying to give her the cold shoulder, that wasn’t him trying to get away from her.

She puts a hand up to halt his train of thought.

“Look, it’s one thing to disagree with a personal decision of mine, but to punish me for it professionally?” Her tone is as incredulous as it is hurt.

“I work very hard, and I am damn good at my job,” she states, certain. “There is a reason it takes so many people to fill in for what I do everyday.”

She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice even.

“So you do not get to insult me and my work this way.”

He takes a few steps towards her, his hands itching desperately to reach out and grab her. He wants to grab her shoulders, make her look at him - to just let him say something, but she’s right.

“I know,” he says quietly, his voice laced with shame, “I know you do good work. I was just…”

“I was just mad,” he confesses with a reluctant sigh. “I was mad that everything… everything happened, and I didn’t know what to do. And I know that’s a terrible excuse, but I didn’t- I was just feeling all these- feelings, and I reacted like an - an ass, and I…”

He runs his hand along his face, exhaling in frustration.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for how I acted.”

She continues to glare at him, silent.

He hates the way she’s looking at him - like the sight of him hurts her.

“Please,” he whispers, hating the pleading tone that crept into his voice. “Please, don’t look at me like that. Just- just let me make up for it, yeah? Let me make this right. Can you… can you at least…?”

He slowly starts moving closer to her - one, then two steps.

She moves back.

“‘At least’ what? What do you want from me now?”

He takes another step, the distance between them now a mere foot. When he’s standing just in front of her, he stops.

His heart is lodged in his throat.

“Can… can I touch you?”

“Why? You want me to be your charity case again? Something you can hold and try to fix to make yourself feel better?”

Okay, maybe that was a bit too far. But she was scared because she was this close to forgiving him, to letting all the anger dissipate like it never existed and letting him hold her like he did so many nights ago.

She shouldn’t forgive him so easily. She shouldn’t want to forgive him so quickly.

He shouldn’t influence her as easily as he does.

He winces, as if she’d physically hit him with those words. He hates the way she’s reacting - hates how she’s talking like she doesn’t know him.

“No,” he says shakily, the word coming out as a breath. “No, I… you’re not a charity case. I just-”

He’s desperate now, desperate to fix this.

“I want to hold you,” he says quietly, his voice breaking. “I just want to hold you.”

“Why?” she tries to sound demanding, angry, cross with him. But her voice cracks instead.

The sound of her voice cracking makes his chest ache.

“Because I care about you,” he says, the words coming out rushed. “Because I’m terrified that you’ll disappear. And because after everything that’s happened these last couple days, I… I just want to hold you in my arms and make sure that you’re real. That you’re here. I just want you.”

“Please,” he whispers. “Please just let me hold you.”

His heart is beating so damn fast that it’s making his head fuzzy, but he needs her to say yes.

She eyes him warily. This wouldn’t be the first time he acted like he cared about her like this, only to distance himself after.

“I’m not leaving,” he says slowly, his voice serious. “I’m not going to push you away. I swear. I swear to you, I will not push you away again this time, okay?”

He reaches out slowly, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, and puts his hand lightly to her wrist - just barely keeping his touch there, like he’s afraid she’ll recoil away.

“Please,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving hers. “Please just… just give me a chance. Let me just have this one thing. Please.”

Still eyeing him, she gives him the barest nod.

She’s never been that good at saying no to him anyway.

Slowly, he moves closer to her, taking one small step at a time. His hands hover at her shoulders for a moment, pulling her to stand up, before he reaches out again and gently pushes her shirt sleeves up slightly, exposing her bare forearms.

She watches him curiously, wondering what he’s doing.

He carefully wraps his fingers loosely around both of her wrists, being mindful of a bruise, and gently guides them up and around his shoulders.

His hands settle on her hips, and then he hesitates. He knows she’s still upset. He knows that he’s still got to apologize and make it up to her properly, but right now, he desperately just wants her close. So he takes a deep breath and gently pulls her body closer, until he can feel her flush against him.

He rests his chin on the top of her head, and god, she feels so good in his arms. She feels so right, and he doesn’t even care that she’s hurt and angry with him right now - she’s here. She’s here, and she’s not pushing him away.

She inhales and that scent that’s so Oscar fills her senses.

She wonders why Oscar smells like coming home.

His hands rub up and down her body slowly - still as gentle as he can manage, not wanting to overstep. He feels her flinch when he accidentally brushes his fingers over a patch of bruise just above her hip bone, and he quickly moves his hand to other spots.

He just wants to hold her. He wants to be close to her.

“Do friends hug like this?” she whispers, not daring to look at him.

The question catches him off guard, and he freezes for a moment.

“No,” he says slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. He continues his slow rhythm of rubbing up and down along her body, tracing an invisible pattern of loops and circles. Silence falls over the room like a blanket of fog, the night sky a backdrop to the intimacy of two people.

“No, I don’t think friends do,” he says quietly.

“You kissed me. The other night, at your place - you kissed me,” she murmurs into his embrace.

He doesn’t move for a moment, absorbing the words.

“I did,” he says simply.

His hands continue to gently rub up and down against her form, his touch careful and calculated. It’d be so easy, so easy just to slip his hands beneath the fabric of her clothes, to just touch her - skin to skin. But not yet.

“And when I did, you kissed me back,” he says quietly.

Her breathing hitches - she wasn’t sure he’d remember.

“I did,” she admits quietly.

A warm feeling begins to take root in his chest and he tightens his hold around her. Pulling his head back, his hooked finger tilting up her chin, he tries to read her eyes.

“And if I were to kiss you again right now, do you think you’d kiss me back?” he asks slowly, his voice still a soft whisper.

She looks up at him, eyes meeting his.

“Only one way to find out,” she breathes.

He holds her gaze for a moment longer, searching her face for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty.

And then he’s carefully lifting one of his hands to her face, his fingers barely coming to rest against her cheek. He rubs the pad of his thumb across her cheek for a moment, just wanting to savor the brief feeling, before gently tilting her head up.

And then he’s slowly lowering his head down, until he can just barely feel her breath against his lips.

Foreheads pressed together, all she can see, feel, breathe is him.

“Don’t play with my heart like this,” she murmurs against his lips.

He swallows hard.

“I’m not,” he breathes quietly, his eyes closed. He can’t bring himself to open them now - he’s scared of what he’ll see in her expression.

He hesitates. He wants to kiss her, wants to kiss her so bad, but he’s not sure she’ll let him. He’s not sure she trusts him again yet.

He moves his head slightly, his nose just brushing against hers.

“I won’t,” he says quietly, this time with more conviction - more force. “I swear I will never hurt you again. I’ll prove it, I’ll show you-“

His words are interrupted by a knock at her door.

They have the worst timing.

Part 4

#formula 1 fic #oscar x assistant!reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri x reader #please read and validate me #saffu's works #formula 1

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staytinyville · 4 months ago

Text

OUTLAW (50)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N NOT BETA READ. We are back! I'm so excited to come up on this arc and finish up the story. There are going to be a total of 80 chapters in whole and I am more than happy to say that I hope to get back to it! You guys have to keep me motivated lol. ALSO MY CONCERT TO GO SEE THEM IS SUNDAY. You guys have no idea what I am going to feel coming up. If you are going to the Arlington Concert y'all be sure to hit me up. I got freebies lol.

There was something about spending a long week with the boys on the road that seemed to bring out a pain in your cheeks from how much you spent smiling. You had grown up so used to hearing people telling you to smile because you seemed to have a resting face that made you unapproachable. However it seemed that every moment you spent with the boys had you looking at them softly.

There wasn’t much of a dull moment, not even well into the night when half of you were asleep. Someone always had to bring up some random story or get another angry. You also started to notice how much they actually let go of themselves now that you were with them. It made you irritated a bit to realize that you were the only woman in a large group of men who were ultimately going to act like men.

But even with that in mind you learned how to stand on your own. You found your feet, quickly turning around to scold or yell at the boys for doing something that wasn’t at all gentlemanly. It seemed that Jongho and Yeosang were the only ones who took into account that you were there. They would be kind enough to say excuse me after a burp or walk off when they were gassy.

The others, well it really just fluctuated.

“Wooyoung! Give it back!” You yelled, chasing after the boy with an arm stretched across your chest.

You heard one of the boys wolf whistle from the wagon, chuckling as he watched you trying to reach for your shirt in Wooyoung's hold. You had only gotten to put on a pair of pants before turning around to find the second youngest running away with a cackle.

The two of you, along with San and Mingi were washing up in the stream that you had taken camp in for the night. You weren’t shy by any means to be naked in front of them anymore. However because you didn’t know what could be in the water all you did was take off your shirt and kept on your underwear. And thus when you were not looking and had your back turned, Wooyoung thought it was a funny idea to pull a prank on you.

“I like you better like this.” Wooyoung mock pouted, swinging your shirt around in the air above his head.

“I'm not about to walk around without a shirt in the elements. Are you dumb?” You pouted at the boy, trying to reach for your piece of clothing once more.

“Give me a kiss and I'll give it back.” Wooyoung grinned, his lips forming a pout ready for your kiss.

You rolled your eyes but tried to prevent the smile from over taking your lips anyways.

One of the boys had come up behind the younger one without having him notice and quickly snatched your shirt from the teasing boy.

“Hey!” Wooyoung shouted, turning to find Yunho standing behind him.

“There you go, Angel.” Yunho told you, handing you your shirt without much protest.

You hummed in thanks, hands falling from your chest as you moved to put it on. Yunho giggled, lightly flicking at one of your nipples before you screamed and swatted his hand away.

“I was going to say thank you but I don’t think I will anymore.” You scrunched up your nose, glaring at the tall boy.

Turning away from the cackling man, you sighed as you saw Wooyoung pouting at you with his arms crossed. While it looked like he was only playing around, you did feel as though he was actually serious.

“Come on, stop pouting.” You cooed, moving to squish the boys cheeks together.

“It's not fair the others have had their time with you—”

“Are you asking me for sex, sir!?” You gasped, looking at him incredulously.

“Maybe.” He whispered.

It had only been a week since you left your home so in reality it wasn’t that long that you had been spending time with the boys. However even if it wasn’t a long while you knew that your feelings for all of them were more than words could ever express. You would never be able to tell them how much you actually appreciated them. So the little things you did for now, you hoped got through to them just enough.

“You'll get it when you get it.” You rolled your eyes, moving to give his cheek a kiss.

“Let's get going! We should almost be to Aurora.” Hongjoong called out, buttoning up his shirt as he had just finished getting cleaned.

The boys had told you that it was the last day they would be making camp the night before. After leaving early in the morning, they explained that they would reach the city by midday. But as you made your way closer you came to the realization the Aurora was much larger than you cared to admit.

You were riding in front with San on his horse. They all rotated between the horses and the wagon in order to not get cramps from sitting in a saddle for so long and you were not exempt from it no matter how much they tried to keep you from doing it.

When houses and more people began to show up along the road, you looked around in wonder asking San if you were there. However he only told you they still had an hour until they reached their home in the center of the city. If the houses were so large on the outskirts you could only imagine how it must have looked in the center.

And you were more than right when you came across the high buildings and the paved roads. The vehicles that zoomed past you, the people walking around in their fancy clothing or the shiny windows that seemed to be cleaned on the daily.

It was something you would have never imagined you would get the chance of seeing.

“Amazing isn’t it?”

You turned to your side, coming across Hongjoong’s grinning face as he watched you look around in amazement.

“It’s like nothing I’ve seen.” You smiled at him.

“If this stuns you just wait until you see our actual home.” San spoke behind you, arms wrapped around your front to hold onto his horse's reins.

San’s words had you pausing for a moment, turning your head a bit to look at him.

“Is this not it?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“It is for now.” Hongjoong answered.

The place they stopped seemed to be the entrance to a market. You could smell the food that the people were selling in the stalls, see the ripe fruits and vegetables from the entrance as they shined in the sun.

You heard a loud bell go off, turning as your eyes went wide from the large vehicle that was coming your way.

It was rectangle shaped, high and with many windows that showed the inside as various people sat in seats. You watched as it stopped at the entrance to the market, a large group of people getting off and chatting constantly with each other.

“Woah.” You spoke out loud, moving to the side to allow the large car to pass.

“Come on, Love.” Jongho took your arm in his, wrapping his fingers in between your own.

Your head snapped up, finding only four of the boys standing with you while the others continued on their way in another direction. Jongho, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Mingi all stayed at your side, looking around the market as they tried to find what they might want.

You watched as the other four took their leave, turning back to Jongho.

“Where are they going?” You asked.

“They’re going to the warehouse.” Yeosang answered from your side. “We’re gonna show you around for a bit if you’re up for it.”

“Always.” You smiled brightly, skipping along with Jongho in tow.

The market was colorful and full of life. You had never seen so many fashion options or even food stalls open for the public. Sure your own city had a market but it was nowhere near as big as this one. The city of Aurora made Chromer look like a small town. Which in your opinion, it might be now compared to this.

Each boy pulled you along to where they wanted, showing you different things like trinkets or clothes you might want for later on. You tried to hold them off from getting you so many things but they told you money wasn’t the problem for them.

“This has the best burgers in town.” Mingi grinned, holding a plate out for you to try his food.

“They’re okay. If I had the funds to buy the ingredients I would make them myself. “ Wooyoung spoke up, crossing his arms as he glared at Mingi scarfing down the carb filled food.

“I’m sure yours are great.” You smiled at the boy, licking your lips from the bite you took.

“You just wait!” Wooyoung clapped, taking a fry from Mingi’s plate causing the taller man to pout.

You all took some time around 5 to take a break in some shady spots. You had a bit of a late lunch so now you were all just lounging around and waiting for time to pass before making your way to the boys home.

“I’ve noticed there’s no wanted posters here.” You spoke out loud, watching how everyone seemed to bypass them without so much as giving Mingi a glance.

“They are all at city hall and not many people go to look at it unless they want rewards. But honestly, the black pirates always take Mingi’s poster down before someone can notice it.” Yeosang answered, thigh pressed into yours as he took up one of your sides.

“The ones who are working with you?” You asked, tilting your head as you remembered the boy who had come out a few weeks ago to speak with them all.

“They are all over the city. We have a common goal and are gonna try to destroy Strickland the best we can.” Jongho explained.

With everything going the past couple of weeks you forgot all about the real battle they were fighting. The one that they had been trying to win for the past couple of years. Way before they even met you.

Having only gotten just a smidge of what they had to go through really made you feel something worthwhile. You felt like your life had meaning being able to stop criminals who wanted to ruin the world for everyone. You felt good about yourself–felt like your life finally had meaning. You wanted to keep going–keep feeling that feeling all the time because it was what you felt was right.

“Count me in.” You smiled, cheeks hurting from how much you were determined to get to where you wanted.

“That’s something you’re gonna have to get through to Captain.” Yeosang smiled.

“Let’s take this to the boys.” Mingi spoke up, gesturing to the boxes of food they all had.

The place they took you to was a large building that looked like it was abandoned. It was half-way finished–like a project that lost its funding. The windows were still intact though so you saw it as a place that was still enough to keep you from catching something from the outside. It was a lot better than camping out in the woods that was for sure.

“This is where you live?” You asked, looking around the large space.

It was all open, with a living room area, kitchen off to one side and another side with tarps and blankets put out to signify their room areas. It looked a lot like the camps they would make along the way but much more organized and larger. In here you could see they had much more supplies.

“For now.” Seonghwa smiled, going up to you and giving you a kiss in greeting.

“It’s nice.” You smiled, trying to memorize where everything was.

“You can stay with one of us and if not you can have your own bed.” Yunho explained, nodding his head to some spaces that had beds.

There was a partition of tarp to create the spaces for different rooms. Some of them even had their tents up for privacy. But overall the space was open and everyone could see everything but it didn’t seem to be a problem seeing as they were covered from the elements securely rather than sleeping inside sheets.

“It’s okay. I got used to sharing.” You grinned up at him.

“I call first!” San shouted, head poking out from behind a column.

“No fair!” Yunho retorted.

“I’ll cuddle you, Yunho. Don’t worry.”

“Wooyoung!”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

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sissylittlefeather · 1 year ago

Text

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 2

A/N: Time for the second chapter in this time-traveling/soulmate AU! This is a reader insert Elvis x fem!reader. I had an absolute blast writing this chapter. I really hope y'all enjoy it!

PS- thanks, as always, to my besties @ccab and @elvisfatass for listening to me scream about this series and helping me when I ask!

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Drinking alcohol, lots of kissing, cussing, erections, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie... I think that's all.

Word count: ~5.5k

Maybe he'll just stay with you forever.

******

When you get back to the dorm, Elvis is all in a tizzy over your music. He wants to hear more, so you give him your iPod.

"What is this?"

"It's music. Here." You put the headphones over his ears and push play.

"Your records must be tiny!" He hollers over the sound of the music and you laugh.

"No records. The music is digital."

"Digital?"

"Oh man. How do I explain this? Just trust me. All the music is saved inside this thing."

"How many songs are in it?"

"It holds, like, thousands, but I think I have around 500. I don't buy as much music as I should." His mouth drops open and he looks down at the iPod.

"Can I take this back with me?"

"Absolutely not. But you're welcome to use it while you're here." He has another wave of hoping he never leaves.

"I love this." You can't help but smile at how excited he is.

"Okay, I need to get ready. I'm going to a friend's house for a game night tonight. Do you want to come with me?" He can't hear you over the music pumping through the headphones. You tap on his shoulder and he uncovers his ear.

"Huh?"

"Do you want to come with me to a friend's house for game night?"

"Oh, sure. I don't want to stay here by myself." Truthfully, he doesn't want to spend a minute away from you.

He goes back to listening to his music while you get ready. Watching you fix your hair and do your makeup is endearing to him. You realize he's staring as you swipe on your black eyeliner pencil.

"What?"

"Nothing. You're just real pretty." You feel your cheeks get hot.

"Thanks." You smile nervously. They definitely didn't exaggerate about how charming he is. Still, his presence is comforting for some reason and you'll miss him when you finally figure out how to get him home. That'll be your project tomorrow, though. Tonight's challenge will be introducing him to your friends without him finding out too much about himself.

When you're ready, you look over him to make sure he's not going to stand out too much. You get to his hair and frown.

"We need to do something about your hair."

"I can tell you right now what we're going to do. Nothing. My hair is fine." He moves his hands to his head protectively. He used half of your can of hairspray this morning fixing it. He's not going to let you touch it now.

"Okay, but no one does their hair like that anymore. You need to make it do this." You gesture to a poster on your wall of Joe Jonas with his hair in his face.

"No. Not happening." You laugh and reach up to tousle his hair and he grabs your wrists, laughing with you and hollering, "NO!"

He wrestles your hands back behind your back and pins you up against him. When he looks down at you, breathing heavily, you both stop laughing. The air between you is electric and he starts to lean in. His lips are almost to yours when there's a knock on your door.

"Y/n! Are you ready?" Katie busts through the door and Elvis lets go of you quickly. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were still here."

"Yeah, he's gonna be here for a bit. Is that okay?" You look at her with an awkward smile.

"Fine by me, as long as you two aren't too loud. These walls are thin, you know." You and Elvis both blush and she laughs. "We better go. I need to stop by the liquor store on our way there."

You nod. Luckily, Katie is 21, so you never have to worry about how to find alcohol for your parties. She walks out of your room and you look back at Elvis.

"I don't really drink." He shrugs.

"I know. It's okay. I hope you don't mind if I do."

"No it's- wait, how do you know?" You smile awkwardly again.

"I might've understated how much of a fan my grandma was. I know... things... about you."

"Like what else?!"

"Don't worry about it." You try to ignore your almost-encyclopedic knowledge of him.

"Come on, lovebirds! Let's go!" Katie hollers from the living room. Elvis takes your hand and you head out there to her. He's nervous, both to meet your friends and because you seem to know more about him than he does.

******

"Guys, this is John. We met in Tupelo. He's staying here with me for a while. Be nice, please." You say sternly as you look around the room at your friends. They introduce themselves and shake his hand. Your friend Ashley doesn't waste any time noticing his appearance.

"You look just like Elvis. Man, y/n, you have a type, don't you?" You laugh awkwardly.

"Yeah, John is a big fan of Elvis too. Hence the hairstyle." Elvis soaks in how commonplace it is for these people to talk about him. How do they all seem to know him?

You quickly change the subject before someone says something about him that he doesn't need to hear.

"So, games? I need a drink." You walk to the kitchen with Elvis in tow to fix yourself a beverage. He watches as you look through the liquor bottles.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'll know it when I- ah ha!" You settle on a bottle of Malibu coconut rum. Then, you open the fridge and pull out a bottle of pineapple juice and mix them together in a Solo cup. You take a sip and revel in the sweetness and he just watches you curiously.

"Can I try that?"

"Thought you didn't drink?"

"It's 2007. I think I can live a little." You hand him the cup and he takes a gulp and then looks at you wide-eyed. "That tastes like dessert!"

"You like it?"

"Yes. This one is mine." You laugh and make yourself another drink. This could get interesting.

Katie calls to you from the living room that it's time to start the first game. The evening passes and you play through a board game and a round of charades. He has you make him two more drinks and you notice his laugh gets louder and he touches you more. He's not drunk, but he's certainly feeling a little relaxed. You're not complaining, though, because you've had the same number of drinks and he is looking more and more irresistible.

You settle in to be a team for a trivia game and he wraps his arm around your shoulders and kisses your cheek. You giggle a little and lay your head against him. Katie watches the two of you and smiles. She knows how you've been alone for a long time. It's nice for her to see you happy, even with this stranger you picked up mysteriously in Tupelo.

"Oh, this seems unfair. It's a pop culture card." Your friend Brandon holds up a card with questions to ask the two of you. "Topic is Elvis Presley." Elvis whips his head toward you and laughs. He can't believe he's a whole card in this game. You don't think much of it when Brandon reads the first question.

"What year did Elvis buy Graceland?" Elvis sits up and hollers.

"1957!" Then, it hits you that there might be something on that card that he shouldn't know. Suddenly, you dive across the table and grab the card from Brandon, sending game pieces flying, before he can read the next question.

"Hey! What the hell?" Brandon yells.

"It's uh, an unfair advantage. Just pick another card."

"Seriously? Come on, y/n."

"Pick another card. Please." Elvis looks at you strangely and tries to take the card from you. You shake your head and put it in your pocket. The game continues and you try not the think about the fact that he almost had to answer a question about the year he died.

At the end of the trivia game, you decide it's time to head home. It's after midnight and you're not sure Elvis should have another drink. Katie agrees since she has to drive home. As you're walking to the car, Elvis wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your cheek again.

"That was fun. 2007 is fun." He whispers in your ear. He's obviously a little drunk, but so are you, so you don't argue. Instead, you turn to face him and throw your arms around his neck, stumbling backwards.

"We have a good time." When you get to the car, he presses you up against it with his body and looks down into your face. He leans down and presses his lips to yours gently. It feels like someone has lit your insides on fire in the best way possible.

"Get in the car, lovebirds." Katie yells at you from the driver's seat. He backs off of you and opens the door for you to slide into the back seat together. It doesn't take long for him to pull you into him and kiss you again. This time, it's an open-mouth kiss and his tongue dips in to move against yours. You begin to make out pretty heavily, his hands moving over your body.

"Hey! No sex in my backseat!" You hear Katie holler from the front. You both start to laugh and he kisses down your neck, muttering.

"No promises." Luckily, it's a short drive back to the dorm, so he doesn't get much further, but the elevator ride is not very much fun for Katie. Finally, you're back to your room and you stumble in laughing and kissing in turns.

"Elvis, wait." He pulls back and looks at you with his heavily-lidded bedroom eyes.

"Yes, honey?"

"Nothing, I just... I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He sits on the side of your bed and watches you walk away.

In the bathroom, you go and then stare at yourself in the mirror. You have an opportunity here to live a dream you've had since you were old enough to know what sex is. But it feels wrong to do it like this, with both of you drunk. You steel yourself for how you're going to tell him no and then open the door.

It turns out you don't have to worry about it, though, because he's fallen fast asleep on your bed, fully clothed. You sigh and then go to take his shoes and his belt off. You change into pajamas and climb into the bed next to him, taking a minute to just look at him. He really is as beautiful as you thought he would be. Pictures didn't do him justice. You reach out and run your fingertip across his brow and down his nose. This is a miracle.

Just then, he rolls over and puts his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. He kisses your forehead and whispers.

"G'night, honey."

You settle in for another night in his arms. Tomorrow you need to try to find a way to get him home, but tonight, he's yours.

******

When you wake up in the morning, Elvis groans and pulls you in close to him.

"Good morning." You say quietly. He groans again and you realize he must be feeling his drinks from last night. You go to roll out of bed and he grabs you and holds you tighter.

"No, don't leave." He whines.

"I'm going to get you some water. It'll make you feel better; I promise." He nods and lets you go.

When you come back with the water, he's sitting up on the side of the bed with his head in his hands.

"Thank you." He takes the water and gulps it down.

"You'll feel better after some food. Take a shower and let's go get breakfast." He agrees and makes his way to the bathroom. You have a half-second fantasy of asking if you can get in with him, but you shake your head and get rid of that thought. You need to focus on trying to find a way to get him home.

******

After eating breakfast, you both feel a lot better. You start to brainstorm ideas for what to do.

"What if we go back to where you showed up?"

"That's an idea." He looks down at his hands. He doesn't want to tell you that he'd rather stay, at least for a little while longer.

"Okay, well, let's try that today. You'll need to put your suit from the concert back on. You can't wear these clothes in 1957." He nods and you notice how quiet he is.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just... I'm not sure I'm ready to go back."

"Elvis, you have to. You don't have a choice." He nods again and looks up at you, reaching across the table to put his hand on yours. He rubs small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Do I have to go today?" The way he feels about you makes him never want to go.

"We don't know how long we might have to get you back. We need to try."

"Okay." He gives you a sad smile, pats your hand, and stands up, stretching and yawning. You make your way back to the dorm for him to change before you head to Tupelo.

******

When you get to the fairgrounds, you go back to where you were when he ran into you, or at least to the best of your memory.

"Now what?" He looks at you anxiously.

"I don't know. I've never done this before. You're the one who time-traveled. What did you do?"

"All I did was come down the stairs of the stage and try to find a place backstage to... well... I was backstage."

"Okay, but was there anything different about this show that hadn't happened before?" He blushes and thinks about the massive erection he had when he came off the stage. Surely that's not related.

"Not really, no."

"Nothing at all?" He looks at you exasperated. You have to remember.

"There was one thing. You really don't know what I'm talking about? Please don't make me say it."

"Oh! Oh my God. Yes. I remember." You laugh out loud and he rolls his eyes.

"I don't think that has anything to do with the time travel." He mutters.

"We don't know that. What if it does?"

"That makes no damn sense, y/n." He puts his hands on his hips.

"Okay, but we need to try to perfectly replicate the circumstances. So, y'know, get after it." You gesture to his crotch and try really hard not to laugh as he stares at you.

"I can't just make it happen!" His face is bright pink and you're about to die from suppressing laughter. You stand and stare at each other for a bit, not sure what to do next.

"Well."

"You could help me." He gets a devilish look in his eyes and you shake your head frantically.

"Noooooo, that's, I can't..."

"You had no problem last night getting me there." Now it's your turn to blush.

"Elvis!"

"It's true! This is your idea!"

"Okay? Never mind. You're right. This has nothing to do with the time travel."

"Now, we don't know that. We have to perfectly replicate the circumstances. That's what you said." He takes several steps towards you and you feel the energy build between you. You look up at him as he gets closer and puts his hands on your hips. "We have to try."

He leans down and kisses you gently a few times before the passion takes over and you throw your arms around his neck and slide your tongue into his mouth. Before you know it, you're both locked in a tight embrace, kissing deeply with your bodies pressed together. After a few minutes you pull back, breathing heavily.

"Is it working?" He shifts his hips and presses his erection into you.

"What do you think?" He kisses you again with a new desperation. There's a big part of him that starts to get worried that this will work. It definitely feels like you're on the right track, even if neither of you can explain it.

But other than a slight electricity and buzzing sound, nothing happens.

You get to the point where if you keep kissing, he's going to lay you down on the ground and have his way with you right there, and he almost does, but another group of tourists comes into view.

"Shit." He hisses and fixes his dick so that it's up under his belt again. You breathe deeply and smooth your hair.

"Let's go. This isn't working." He says a silent prayer of thanks and nods. You head for your car before the group of tourists can spot him and ask to take pictures or something, assuming he's the most effective tribute artist of all time.

In the car, he looks over at you from the passenger seat and smiles.

"So now what are we doing?"

"I have no idea. I'm supposed to go out with my friends tonight. I'm not sure you should come."

"Why not? I promise I won't get drunk again."

"No, that's not it. I just... we're going to a club. I don't think it's going to be your scene."

"What kind of club?" A nightclub doesn't sound so bad to him.

"A hip-hop club."

"Hip what?" You roll your eyes and laugh. Sometimes he sounds like your grandpa.

You rifle through the cds on your visor and pull one down that's labeled "rap mix" with some doodles drawn on it in sharpie. When the bass beat hits, he looks at you with his eyes wide.

"Is this-"

"Music made by Black people, mostly." You cut him off before he can say something indicative of the time he came from.

"And you listen to it?"

"Oh yeah. We don't really... separate... like it used to be. Things have changed quite a bit..." His eyes light up.

"I wondered, since your friends were... not all white..." You forgot that it might've been a little shocking to him to see how diverse your group of friends was last night. Still, he seemed to take it in stride.

"Anyway, we're going to a place where they play this kind of music and people dance."

"I like to dance."

"This is gonna be dancing like you've never seen before."

"Everything here is like nothing I've ever seen before."

"You promise you won't get all weird and judgy?" He puts his hand on his heart.

"I promise. How bad can it be?" You think to yourself that it might actually be better if he has a few drinks first and then put the car in drive.

******

A couple of girls come over to get ready with you and Katie and pre-party before the club. They fawn over how cute "John" is and mix up some Malibu and pineapple. He looks at you sheepishly.

"Can I have one? I won't have as many as last night."

"I'm not your mother. Have as many as you want." You laugh. He grabs a cup and takes a sip, smiling. He stays in the living room on the couch marveling at how many channels are on your tv while you go in the bedroom with the girls to get dressed.

"Y/n, he is SO CUTE. He looks super familiar, though. How did you meet him?" Your friend Nicole remarks.

"It's because he looks like Elvis Presley." Ashley chimes in with her observation from last night.

"Yeah, I guess he kinda does in the right light. I met him when I went to Tupelo." You try to downplay how much he looks like Elvis because he is Elvis. Now it's Katie's turn to jump in.

"I'd love to hear the story of how you met. Because you were only in Tupelo for a few hours. And somehow you came back with this perfect guy."

"Oh, well, I went to the fairgrounds and we just sorta bumped into each other." You leave out the time-traveling bit.

"Shit, maybe I need to go wandering around Tupelo too." Nicole laughs and you pull an outfit out of your closet. You squeeze into the hot pink bodycon dress and slide the black vest over it, fastening the single button up under your boobs. You finish teasing your hair and put on a pink headband with a tiny bow. Your eyeliner is perfect and you're excited for Elvis to see you so dressed up. Once everyone is ready two drinks later, you make your way into the living room to grab Elvis and head to the club.

When he sees you, his mouth literally drops open. Up until now, you've had on jeans and a t-shirt or pajamas. This outfit shows off all of your assets and he's in awe. The other girls notice the way he looks at you and start to giggle. He sets his drink on the coffee table and walks directly to you, never taking his eyes off of you.

"This outfit is... wow." You look around at the other girls just standing and watching.

"Thanks. What?" He shakes his head a little.

"Nothing, you're just gorgeous, honey, that's all." You have the thought that you should just take him into your bedroom and let everyone else go to the club without you, but Katie speaks and shatters your daydream.

"Okay, lovebirds. Let's go. The club is waiting."

******

When you get to the club, there's a line outside but you can hear the thumping bass beat from where you stand. It's September, so the evening is chilly and you shiver in your sleeveless dress. Elvis doesn't think twice before wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm. You meet up with some of your guy friends and make it inside fairly quickly. You let your friends walk a few paces in front of you so that Elvis's reaction will go unnoticed. Once you get to a place where you can see the dance floor, you're glad you gave him some space.

"Holy shit." He looks around with his eyes damn near popping out of his head.

"Okay, you promised. No judgy bullshit." He turns and looks at you.

"This is amazing."

"Wait, really? I figured you'd get all shy and weird because, well, sex." He gives you a disapproving look.

"I've had sex before."

"Well, I know that, but still. I also know how and where and when you grew up."

"Looks like I finally know more about me than you do. Do you dance?" You're pleasantly surprised by his reaction.

"I do. I actually love to dance."

"Well, then, let's go." He grabs your hand and makes a beeline for the dance floor. Once you're out there, you turn to him.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Hell yeah." You turn around again and put your ass on him and begin to grind. He laughs out loud and puts his hands on your hips. It doesn't take him long to figure out how to move with you. This shouldn't shock you as much as it does, considering all the stage performances you've seen of his. You knew he could move his hips. The song ends and you face him, ready for him to say he's had enough, but the next song is one of your favorites. You put your hands on his shoulders and body roll into him.

"Yes, honey, I like this." He leans down and whispers in your ear as you continue to move together. You spend the next three hours either on the dance floor or taking short breaks at the table with your friends before he inevitably grabs your hand and drags you out to dance again.

By the time you leave, you're both so drenched in sweat that his shirt is soaked through and your hair is wild. On the way home, you sit in the way back seat of your friend's suburban and he wastes no time in wrapping himself around you and kissing you. Your friends laugh as you make out like teenagers and Katie hollers.

"Yeah, they do that."

Back at the dorm, you barely notice your friends as they continue the party in the living room and you tumble into your room with Elvis. You can still hear the bass beat from the music in the living room, so you push him into a sitting position on the side of your bed.

You turn away from him, putting both hands on his knees, and grind your ass against him. Then, you bend over in front of him and touch your toes, slipping your shoes off. He reaches out and puts both hands on your ass cheeks and grunts.

"Mmm, don't stop."

You turn to face him and unbutton your vest, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your cleavage, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your breasts. You unbutton his shirt and pull it off of his shoulders. Then, you pull your dress up and climb onto his lap, straddling him. You continue to grind against him to the beat from the living room, feeling his hard cock pressing against you as you do. He slides both hands up your thighs underneath your dress.

"Can I?" He looks up at you desperately and you nod. He tugs on the hem of your dress and pulls it up over your head and off. As he looks at you sitting on him in nothing but your bra and panties, he whispers.

"Wow." You lean in and kiss him deeply, skin pressed against his. He leans back until you're laying on top of him in the bed and then rolls over so that he's on top. He leaves a trail of soft kisses down your chest and reaches behind your back to try to undo your bra, but is completely confused by how different the clasp is from what he's seen before.

"What the hell is this?" You sit up and unhook it easily. He shrugs. "Okay, I'll figure that out later."

You laugh and he removes your bra, tossing it to the side. He goes back to kissing your chest, paying special attention to your nipples. You arch your back with the sensation of his warm mouth on you. He kisses down to your hip and then slips your panties down to your ankles and off. Going back to your center, he slides one finger into you and presses it in and out.

"You want me, baby?" He asks, voice dripping with lust.

"Use your mouth first." You respond breathlessly. He freezes and then sits up, looking at you.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I-I-I've never..." He stutters nervously.

"Shit, I'm sorry, never mind. I forget how young you are."

"Now, wait a minute. I'm older than you." You don't know how to explain to him that you forget he isn't who he will become yet.

"It's okay. Just keep going."

"Tell me how to do it." You sit up on your elbows.

"It's really okay. You don't have to."

"I want to. Tell me what to do." A thought comes to you. Are you really the woman that teaches Elvis Presley this skill?

"Okay, well, just put your tongue here and move it around like this." You put your finger on your clit and rub it in circles and over the top, pleasuring yourself. You moan softly at the feeling and he nods and leans down, pressing his mouth to you. He starts to move his tongue and you moan a little louder. You feel him smile and he starts to get a little more bold with his movements. He slides his finger back inside you and continues licking your clit. He sucks on it lightly and then goes back to moving his tongue on you. It doesn't take long for him to figure out how to read your body for signs he's on the right track and you feel the coil of your orgasm tighten.

"Oh, fuck, Elvis!" You cry out as the coil snaps and you feel the waves of pleasure crash into you from every angle. He laughs as you come hard on his hand, feeling your walls pulse around his finger.

"Ha! That's never happened before. That was... wow." He looks at you with sparkly eyes and you breathe heavily through the high of your climax.

You sit up and push his pants down his legs and off, letting his cock bounce free. You stroke him for a bit and he leans his head back with his eyes closed and mouth open slightly.

"You want to fuck me, Elvis?"

"God, yes, y/n, that's all I want." You pull his hips down to yours and line him up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly and rests his forehead on your shoulder until he's filling you fully. "Mmm, goddamn." His voice is husky and deep.

You moan softly as he begins to pump in and out of you with more speed. His hips slam against yours to the rhythm of the music still coming from the living room. You fuck like this for a while with him on top of you, but eventually you push him onto his back and climb on top of him, sinking down onto his cock.

"Fuck, yes, Elvis." You start to grind your hips against him, pushing him deeper and deeper and he groans.

"'M gonna come, baby. You feel so damn good." You nod and keep going and he pops his eyes open. "Do I-"

"I'm on birth control."

"What?"

"I'll explain later just don't stop!" He pulls you down to his chest and fucks into you from underneath until he can't stand it anymore.

"Fuck, yes!" He shudders and pumps into you weakly a couple more times. You lay on his chest for a bit trying to catch your breath. Then, you slide off of him and settle in the crook of his arm. He turns toward you and kisses you fully on the mouth. "That was incredible! I've never done it like that before!" You giggle at his enthusiasm.

"Like what? With the girl on top?"

"Yes and without pulling out."

"Oh. Yeah it's a miracle of the modern age."

"Well, I love it. Goddamn, I'm in love with you now." He laughs and kisses you again. You're not sure he's kidding, even though he laughs.

That's when you hear it. The buzzing sound gets louder and louder and you notice that there's a spot next to your bed where the air looks wavy.

"Elvis, look!" He sits up and looks where you're pointing.

"What is that?"

"I think it's how you get home!" His face falls and his heart drops. He wasn't kidding about being in love with you. He can't go now, not after what you just did together. "Get dressed! You have to go!"

"No, I don't want to."

"Elvis, you have to. You can't stay here forever. You have to be... you." You jump out of bed and gather his suit. "Come on!"

He gets out of bed reluctantly and gets dressed, looking at the mysterious portal with disdain. You throw on your robe and sit on the side of the bed. Once he's fully dressed, he pulls you into him and kisses your cheek.

"I'm not ready to leave you." All of a sudden, tears gather in your eyes and a lump forms in your throat.

"I know. But you have to." He pulls back and looks you in the eyes.

"I wasn't kidding about loving you. Come with me!"

"I can't! Elvis, please just go. This isn't going to get any easier." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He grabs your face and kisses you one last time.

"I'll never forget you, honey." He caresses your cheek and then turns away, walking through the wavy air. He disappears and there's small pop as the portal goes away too.

You sit on the side of your bed and cry, tears falling into your lap as your shoulders shake.

You love him even more than you did before. Now he's real and you'll never forget the days when he was yours.

******

A year later, you go to Graceland for the anniversary of Elvis's death. You never stopped looking for him after he left, but you're starting to lose hope that you'll ever see him again. You do an evening tour and somehow manage to find yourself alone in a corner of the house. You break down crying, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. You miss him with every fiber of your being.

And then you hear it. The buzzing sound. And the air gets wavy in front of you. Could it be? It has to be. You jump up and walk slowly towards the portal, your heart beating wildly in your chest...

******

Chapter 3 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #50s elvis #how the web was woven

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 1 year ago

Text

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 25: June III

{{ Chapter 24: May II | Epilogue }} Chapter Directory

I for real feel like I'm grieving! This was my first published and completed fic in a VERY VERY long time and, as frustrating as it was sometimes, I'm so glad that y'all took this journey with me 😭

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, alcohol, reader finally coming to terms with herself ✧ word count ➼ ~5.2k

School was over, but it didn’t mean you were entirely free of responsibilities.

Paradis University hosted a graduate banquet every year, specifically to feature students that excelled academically or contributed to the community.

You didn’t originally want to go. Your grades weren’t the best and you didn’t feel like being surrounded by your classmates that would no doubt boast about their near perfect GPA’s. However, you did start the Honors Society and it had taken off within the past few months, so you felt the need to attend since you participated in an important extracurricular. Sure, you could have just dipped out on it, but it could have been a chance to network if you decided to go down that route.

You couldn’t see it happening in the meantime. You just wanted to focus on your book, but if the opportunity arose to network, you told yourself that you’d take it.

You were dragging Levi to the banquet with you, which was met with surprisingly little resistance. The idea of spending the night wearing a formal outfit and being surrounded by people didn’t sound great to either of you, so you were more than surprised when Levi simply responded with a “sure” when you half-heartedly asked him if he’d be your emotional support throughout the night.

You were currently trying to focus on just the next hour or two to keep your mind off the banquet. The tickets were paid for and the outfits were bought. Even if you really wanted to skip out on it, you had already spent time and money preparing, so to have that go to waste would feel just as bad as forcing yourself to go for the night.

Sighing, you looked down into your bag, double checking that you had picked up both sandwiches that you had ordered. You were dropping off lunch for Levi before planning to hang out in the cafe for the rest of his shift before heading home to get ready for the banquet.

Your head shot up as you saw something orange moving out of the corner of your eye. It was small and barely drew your attention, but you looked off into the distance and your eyes fell on a nearby dumpster. You saw something shuffling around near the corner before disappearing under it.

Any intention for you to shrug and move on disappeared as soon as you heard a meow.

Your eyes widened as you immediately set your bag down on a nearby bench and headed directly towards the dumpster, doing your best to ignore the subtle foul smell coming from the opening. You got onto your hands and knees and knelt down to peek underneath the dumpster, a small gasp coming from your lips when you saw a lone kitten squatting in front of you. The kitten was thin, but didn’t look like it was starving. They were definitely dirty and you could already imagine Levi’s face if he was the one staring at the kitten. Some of its fur was matted and the dirt covered what you assumed would have otherwise been a vibrant orange coat.

It didn’t seem actively afraid of you, so you reached out your hand towards it without fully extending your arm, to offer that you were friendly but to not be too intrusive or scare them off. It made eye contact with you before gradually approaching you, tentatively watching you before deciding that you were a nice human and immediately crawled onto your lap.

Clearly more smitten with the kitten than you were disgusted by the amount of dirt and grime on its coat, you picked them up and brought them over to the bench, suddenly remembering your tuna sandwich. You carefully unwrapped the sandwich as the kitten watched you curiously, smelling the tuna as soon as you exposed the sandwich from its wrapping.

You scooped up some of the tuna with your pinky and extended your hand out to it again and it took all of your willpower to hold back the massive smile building on your face as you watched it happily lick at your finger. All that willpower was immediately thrown out the metaphorical window as soon as you heard it begin to purr.

You felt your heart ache as you stared at it, noticing that it wasn’t wearing a collar. You kept telling yourself that no matter what, you were not going to take it home with you, despite already being unable to part from it. You already knew that Levi was going to question why it took you so long to pick up the sandwiches, yet you couldn’t get yourself to get up and walk away.

You weren’t going to take the cat. You didn’t have the capacity to adopt it. You told yourself you wouldn’t do it.

~~~~~

You ended up taking the cat.

Your hands were full with your bag and the sandwiches, so you settled for placing the kitten in the hood of your jacket. Although he seemed to shuffle around a bit, your hood was large and sturdy enough that there wasn’t a risk of him falling out, even if he was wiggling around.

Once you finally arrived at the cafe, you let out an internal sigh of relief once you saw that there weren’t a lot of people inside. You opened the door to the cafe with your foot since your hands were occupied, making eye contact with your grumpy barista-turned-roommate-turned-boyfriend.

Levi was in the middle of making you your Matcha before looking up and seeing you slowly make your way inside, noticing that you seemed a bit more disheveled compared to usual. That, plus the fact that it took you as long as it did for you to pick up sandwiches from a deli shop two blocks away made him immediately suspect that something was up.

“You get lost again?”

It took you a second to respond and Levi could immediately tell that your attention was directed elsewhere.

“What?”

“Really took you 30 minutes to walk down the street?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep,” you immediately responded, somewhat avoiding eye contact with him. You were stiff and moving slowly, as if you were afraid of knocking something over.

The more he looked at you, the more suspicious Levi became over what the hell had happened on your little field trip to the deli shop. He watched as you reached into your bag and handed him a sandwich.

He eyed you skeptically as he took the sandwich from you, immediately grimacing upon opening it and smelling the tuna coming from within the loose wrapping.

“I didn’t order tuna,” he commented with a disgusted expression.

“You’re so extra,” you sighed as you rolled your eyes at him, swapping out the sandwich you grabbed for yourself after realizing that you accidentally gave him yours.

Levi grabbed the correct sandwich but then looked up as soon as he began to unwrap it. He had heard a certain noise coming from the back of your hood. Raising an eyebrow, he gave you a skeptical look and noticed that you were purposefully avoiding eye contact with him. If he didn’t know you better, he would’ve assumed that you were just focusing on eating your sandwich, but he knew that was bullshit.

“Did I just hear meowing?”

He saw you pause for a split second, making it glaringly obvious that you were hiding something.

“I don’t know, did you?” you asked innocently while still avoiding eye contact.

You couldn’t see it, but you could essentially feel the glare that Levi was shooting in your direction.

A meow came from the back of your hood again. It must have been the tuna.

Levi’s unamused expression turned into a full frown as you continued to awkwardly look away.

“Show me your hood,” he demanded in a stern tone of voice.

“What?” you asked, looking up at him, trying your best to maintain a neutral expression. “Why?”

His gaze was unwavering, and his expression was unchanging. You could tell that he wasn’t going to back down from his request.

After a few seconds of desperately trying to maintain your mask, you sighed and pulled your hood to the side and grabbed the kitten from within, having it rest on one arm while you used your other hand to poke at your sandwich, offering more tuna to your new furry friend.

“Really?” Levi asked with an exasperated sigh.

“What?” you responded defensively. “I found him underneath the dumpster. I think he’s orphaned.”

You looked up towards Levi and saw an expected look of disgust appear on his face as soon as you mentioned the dumpster. His eyes fell from you down to the cat, noting that its fur looked a little matted, but otherwise didn’t look completely filthy. He watched as it happily licked the tuna off your finger, noticing that it was purring.

“Please don’t say you’re taking it home.”

“Where else am I supposed to put him? Back near the dumpster?” you responded nonchalantly, indicating that you had already made up your mind about adopting the dumpster kitty. “Look how much he loves the tuna.”

Levi had moved on from glaring incessantly at you to having an intense staring contest with the cat, adamant about not allowing it to come home with you. It got harder and harder to keep that frown on his face once he saw you smiling endearingly at the cat.

“Fine ,” he grumbled with a groan, rolling his eyes as he brought his attention back to making your Matcha, “but you’re feeding him something other than tuna from a cheap deli shop.”

You tried to hide the shit-eating grin that was beginning to appear on your face as you finally heard Levi give in to your somewhat impulsive decision to adopt a cat. Seeing that the cat was no longer sniffing at your sandwich, you scooped him up out of your arm and back into your hood.

“He’s going to get our clothes for the banquet all furry,” Levi mentioned as he looked back over at you.

“Well, I guess we’ll buy a lint roller on the way home,” you rationalized, earning a quiet grunt to come from Levi’s lips.

You rolled your eyes.

“Full of problems today, aren’t you?” you grumbled. “Just get me the damned Matcha.”

He looked back up at you with a frown as he hesitated in sliding your Matcha over to you.

You stuck your tongue out at him as you reached for the beverage, your eyes widening once he moved it away from you so you couldn’t reach.

“Only if you quit being a little shit.”

You glared at him and reached across the counter, dodging his efforts to shoo your hand away, smirking once you finally wrestled the cup away from him, although he wasn’t trying very hard to keep it out of your grasp in the first place.

“You’re so annoying,” he scolded.

“And you’re a dick,” you retorted.

“You’re distracting me.”

“And you’re choosing to get distracted.”

He rolled his eyes at your response, but you saw the slightest hint of the corner of his lips tugging up as well as the presence of an amused look in his eyes. He was enjoying your banter, despite his multiple claims regarding how annoying you were being to him at this moment.

Levi eventually walked away to tend to his station since he was still on a shift, but it was next to impossible for him to take his eyes off you for the rest of the shift. You were doing nothing other than sitting at your usual seat as you made your way through your sandwich, occasionally throwing a comment back to your new fur child when you heard him calling from behind you, musing over potential names for him.

“Mr. Whiskers? No? Don’t like that?” you proposed, gauging the cat’s reaction as you muttered off a list of potential names. “What about…Mashed Potato? I think you can look like a scoop of mashed potatoes. Don’t like that either? If you ask Levi, he’d probably just constantly call you a little shit, would you prefer that?”

Levi snorted to himself as he watched the ridiculousness that was the conversation you were having with the small furry creature that was meowing at you in response.

“Marmalade?” you asked, your eyes lighting up when you weren’t met with a meow of protest. “Nice to meet you, Marmalade.”

Levi watched closely as you introduced yourself, saying your name and some random facts about yourself, before pointing at Levi and introducing him as the one Marmalade will have to answer to if he leaves too much fur on the furniture.

You looked up, making eye contact with Levi again, realizing that he was listening in on your conversation.

“Levi might still refer to you as a little shit regardless, so I guess we’ll have that as your backup name.”

~~~~~

You were in a rush to the banquet. You had stopped at a pet store on the way home, buying a comfortable kennel, a litter box, a food and water bowl, and some kibble and canned food, although Levi was mumbling about being unsure if the kibble was good enough for Marmalade, clearly indicating that he was going to take this cat dad thing seriously. After taking Marmalade home, giving him a quick bath so that he wasn’t tracking dirt all over the apartment, and setting everything up for him, you were more than pressed for time.

“Told you he was going to get fur all over our clothes,” Levi grumbled from the driver’s seat as you picked off some stray strands of fur that the lint roller had failed to catch.

The drive to the banquet was relatively quiet, likely due to your nerves regarding having to be around that many people, but Levi’s brows furrowed together as he heard you incessantly squirming around in your seat. His eyes flashed over towards you and he saw that you were fumbling around with a waist-clincher that you were wearing underneath your dress. It looked more than uncomfortable and you kept on adjusting it in an attempt to make it more bearable to wear.

“Tch, just take that damn thing off,” he scolded. “You look fine.”

You paused, holding still without further adjusting it or taking it off, hesitant to fully remove it. You haven’t ever worn a formal dress without it, although you knew that it was due to lingering traces of that facade you had spent the past few months trying to unravel.

Realizing that it wasn’t worth the discomfort, you unbuckled the back of the waist-clincher and tossed it into the backseat, immediately feeling better and like you could finally breathe after taking it off.

Levi was right. It was unnecessary and barely made a difference. Even if it did, you realized that you really didn’t care anymore.

The amount of students that showed up to the banquet wasn’t terrible, but given the fact that most of them brought someone with them, you began to feel cramped fast. Most of the students walked in with their parents, with some that were like you, bringing their significant other instead.

The general expectation was to bring family and Levi was the closest person that you could realistically call family. You had cut your aunt off and had no intention of reconciling with her. You vaguely recalled a phone call two weeks ago from your aunt to chat about ‘future plans’. The question itself was innocent enough, but then she started going on about how writing isn’t an ‘actual job’ and you finally decided you had enough. You remembered snapping at her about how it was none of her business and then hung up. You haven’t responded to her since.

By the time you sat down at the table after finally locating your placecard, you were already beginning to feel overwhelmed from the amount of people cramped into a small conference room.

“This was a mistake,” you grumbled.

“Was it?”

Levi took a seat next to you and adjusted the tie that he had neatly put together about an hour prior when you were in a rush to leave. You watched him closely, paying particular attention to how his dress shirt seemed to fit his shape perfectly, with the color of the tie further accentuating his eyes. His fingers neatly dug into the collar of his shirt to adjust his tie, and you found your mind immediately wandering elsewhere as you became fixated on the dexterity of his fingers.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you immediately ripped your eyes off him and shook your head a bit, sipping on the glass of water in front of you to keep yourself from feeling a certain way that would have made getting through this night even more difficult than it was already going to be.

“Oh, you came.”

You looked up as you saw Petra’s somewhat skeptical expression. Her tone of voice indicated that she legitimately did not think you were going to show up despite the fact that you turned in your RSVP and had a table card.

“Did you expect me not to?” you asked with a frown.

She shrugged as she sat down, hanging her purse off the back of the seat as she got settled.

“You just sounded pretty disinterested when we were chatting about it. That’s all.”

You took a second to recall that conversation that you vaguely remembered. It was a few weeks ago, roughly around the time that you had spent on figuring out how to move forward with properly grieving your parents’ death. This banquet was the last thing on your mind.

“Was distracted,” you eventually remarked. “Sorry.”

Your eyes shot up as you watched some other students sit down at the table with their family members. With everyone taking a seat, the crowd seemed a little less chaotic, so that was a plus, but you’d be expected to maintain one-on-one conversations now, which seemed just as draining.

“Honestly, I probably would have run it differently.”

“Hmm?” you said as you looked towards Petra, her comment pulling you out of your thoughts about how dreadful these next few hours were going to be. You knew she was referring to the Honors Society, since that’s what you were specifically invited to this banquet for. You already knew that she was going to say one of her comments that were genuine and did not come from a place of malignant intent, but always seemed to rub you off wrong.

She began giving examples of some things she would have done differently had she been the one that started it and you felt yourself getting increasingly irritated the more she spoke.

“Like any financial issues could’ve been mitigated through having member dues-”

“Should’ve run it yourself then,” you finally snapped as you scowled at Petra, whose eyes widened at your sudden remark.

You didn’t even notice the upturn of Levi’s lips that appeared as soon as you snapped, no doubt proud that you were finally standing up for yourself. You stood up, grumbling under your breath about how you were going to need a drink if you were going to have to deal with this type of thing all night, and headed straight for the bar.

It was the subpar university catering service, so you were less than impressed with their cocktail options, electing for the first fruity one that you saw. It tasted more like watered down juice than anything else.

You took a sip through the straw, looking over to the side as you saw Levi take a seat next to you.

“She send you to talk me down?” you asked dryly.

“No,” Levi said as he motioned for the bartender to get him a glass of whiskey. “Was too surprised to say much of anything.”

You kept your gaze fixated on your drink, watching the ice spin around as you stirred the liquid with your straw. You had known about how much your friendships were lacking for quite some time now, but you really did question why you kept all your friendships at surface-level. You legitimately couldn’t think of a reason as to why, other than maybe falling under the influence of your shitty ex-boyfriend.

Clenching your jaw, you let out a frustrated breath. You were going to resolve to do better and set boundaries when needed, instead of being the person that tedious tasks got thrown on to. You were going to be seen as a person and not as a means to an end.

You knew it was going to take a while. This part of you had been deeply engrained into you ever since high school. You’d have to fight back against any instincts you’ve developed since then, and then unweave all of the relationships that you had made based on this facade.

It was going to be hard and take a long time, but you knew that it was what you needed to do to continue moving forward.

You had to find out who you really were and how that ultimately changed the relationships around you, taking apart each superficial thread one by one until people began seeing you for who you really were.

~~~~~

Even after you gathered yourself and conversed your way through the dinner and beginning speeches, you got quickly drained again and found yourself back at the bar. You were more than annoyed, with the crowd being a bit more scattered as people began to socialize amongst each other.

You noted that Petra was chatting with the dean, likely doing some sort of elevator pitch to get into medical school, and that Oluo was chatting with Shadis, likely to ask about Shadis’ graduate program. This was essentially what all of the students present were doing: networking.

Now that you were here, you realized that you couldn’t really care for networking. You had no plans. You had no elevator pitch to give, and you were over pretending to be someone you weren’t.

You quietly groaned to yourself as you sipped on your cocktail, having ordered another one from the menu in hopes that it was better than the first one. It wasn’t. You grimaced upon tasting the liquid. It was too bitter and the ratio of alcohol to mixer was off. You’ve had better drinks at fraternity parties than whatever it was that the university catering service decided to deem as quality alcohol.

“Wanna get some air?”

You looked over as you saw Levi approaching you again after he went off to converse with Erwin, who was there to recruit more potential students for his lab. The extra personnel was much needed. Your eyes immediately lit up once you heard the offer.

“Please ,” you responded, although it sounded almost like begging, indicating how desperate you were to get out of that stuffy and noisy room.

Levi led you through the crowd and out one of the side doors that led to a balcony overlooking the downtown area. He shut the doors behind you to dampen some of the noise from within before leaning on the balcony railing next to you. It was much quieter outside. There were a few stragglers, but most of the guests had either gone home or were inside socializing. As far as you were concerned, it was only the two of you here, enjoying the cool night breeze and the beauty of the downtown lights below you, the street lamps illuminating up the street in a way that made you almost want to leave the building entirely just to walk underneath those lights.

You sipped on your drink again—likely just out of instinct since you still held the drink in your hand—and immediately grimaced again, being rudely reminded of how shitty it tasted.

Levi grabbed the glass by the rims and placed another drink in front of you. While yours was clear and flat with an orange slice inside it, the one he just handed you was bubbling from the carbonation and had a pretty mix of red and orange colors leading to the bottom of the glass.

You took a sip, not being all that surprised when it tasted much better than the one you previously had. Whatever he ordered tasted more fruity than it did alcohol, while still providing that slight kick. Realizing that he likely customized the drink instead of directly ordering something from the menu, you eyed him as you sipped on the thin straw.

He knew your flavor profile. It wasn’t that surprising to you. After all, he had been making you your drinks for two years while also living with you. The drinks that he made were clearly very different from the ones served from behind a traditional bar, but he knew your likes and dislikes enough to craft you a cocktail you’d actually enjoy.

Levi sipped on your old drink, underestimating how bad it actually was, immediately scrunching up his nose in disgust upon tasting it.

“Really?” he questioned as he shot you a skeptical look.

“It’s what they had on the menu,” you said quietly, your cheeks slightly heating up in embarrassment.

“And by ‘they’, you mean the shitty university catering.”

It was the graduate department that was hosting the event, so their catering events included alcohol, but it was still university catering, which usually resulted in their menus being written from a more economic standpoint instead of one designed to provide the guests with satisfactory food and drinks.

You shrugged in acknowledgement, having accepted that you probably should have just tried to mix something up yourself. Still, the fact that Levi went out of his way to get you a drink you’d like brought a small smile to your face.

You swirled the drink with the small straw for a while before sipping at it again, looking over towards Levi afterwards. He had turned around to set your old drink down onto the mini-table behind you, and was now headed back towards you.

As he turned to face you, you couldn’t help but notice how his hair moved about in the wind, revealing his undercut, or how his dress shirt had the two top buttons undone, showing off his collarbones. He elected to also undo his tie and have it hang around his neck. His suit jacket was off due to how warm it was inside, and he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and you felt your mind wandering off towards your memories of how his hands felt on you, recalling some of the more intimate things he’s done with them to you.

You found yourself staring straight at him as your face rapidly heated up again as you desperately tried to pull your mind out of the gutter.

“What?” he asked, noticing the fact that you were just staring at him, ripping you out of your daze.

“Hmm?” you responded as you slightly shook your head to reorient yourself. “Nothing, just…”

You trailed off as you awkwardly shuffled from side to side, scratching at the back of your head.

“Just what?”

You took a moment to look directly into his eyes, noticing that they had softened in the past few minutes that he was standing outside with you. Part of you didn’t believe that this was the same person that pissed you off so much two years ago, but you were able to acknowledge that pretty soon after you moved in, he was there for you in a way that you desperately needed, but could never get prior to him.

“Just…thinking about how making me hate you was probably the best thing you could have done for me.”

That was not the answer that Levi was expecting, as evidenced in the way that he blinked at you as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” he asked, bewildered at your response.

You looked down at your drink again as you tried to gather your thoughts into something that would make sense.

“...I remember how pissed I was those first few weeks of living with you,” you began, your voice gradually rising from a quiet whisper as you continued to speak. “Kept on questioning how I was going to survive even another week with you…but I think that it’s because I hated you so much that I was able to be myself around you.”

A gentle breeze blew through the both of you, as if it was trying to carry your words directly to him.

“...because I hated you so much, I was able to form something…real with you.”

His eyes softened again as he looked into your eyes, shifting his stance so that he was facing you more.

“Well, you were pretty easy to hate,” he mumbled nonchalantly, immediately earning himself a gentle shove from you in retaliation, the edges of his lips pulling up into a subtle smirk.

“I’m serious,” he continued after readjusting his positioning after you rudely forced him to move. “I remember dreading coming home because I knew your annoying ass was going to be waiting for me.”

“And I remember grimacing every time I heard the door open because I knew I had to see your cocky face again.”

He scoffed and flicked at your forehead in response to your comment and you swatted his hand away, rubbing at your forehead afterwards as you pouted at him.

You felt your face heating up again once you saw the affectionate look in his eyes as he watched you.

“...just strange…”

“What is?” he asked, slightly tilting his head, never taking his gaze off you.

“...that within the span of two years,” you spoke quietly, “I went from hating you…to loving you.”

You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you realized what exactly you had just said and admitted to—that you loved him. You felt your heart beating through your chest as your entire body heated up in embarrassment—but there was also truth to the sentiment. You really did love him. He had been there for you in ways that no one ever had been before. He pulled you out of the shitshow that you found yourself drowning in and helped push you forward, even if he was being a bit of a dick at times.

You thought back to how sneakily he had snuck up on you, and how devastated you were when you thought you had lost him. Even through all the fighting you had at the beginning and how difficult he was as you tried to sort through your feelings, you’d be willing to go through them every single time if the result was you standing here next to him in this moment.

“...love you too, brat,” he whispered, gently running his fingers down the side of your face, before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

You pressed your lips up against his, smiling into the kiss as you ran your fingers through his undercut, stepping closer to him.

Once you finally pulled away, you looked directly into his eyes, the two of you now being close enough that your lips were just inches apart.

Nothing else mattered to you right now except for him. Being able to hate him, meet him, and fall in love with him made going through undergrad worth it, even if it didn’t feel like it at first. You’d do it over and over again if it led to this conclusion.

You parted your lips to speak, your voice barely audible as you whispered to him.

“Thank you for being my found family.”

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @v4mp-wife @moonchild-angel @astri-ackerman @auriuswolve @noctemys @you-always-made-me-blush @raginginferno267 @sugurusdiscordmoderator @jennamelinda12 @noodlejitsu @nalu-trashytrash @creigh-h @gina239

#cw: alcohol #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #fics: matcha #modern!au levi #coffeeshop!au levi #college!au levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk

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hwasshvur · 5 months ago

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Shadowed Obsession ( Chapter two )

summary: when Y/N a normal girl who worked at a library or bookstore and tried to get through college helped a male get a 'gift' turned into her nightmare.

Nasia's Note: OKAY! thank you for all the likes on chapter one and the preview of this chapter. I have the biggest writer's block so I apologize for the terrible chapter but this chapter is DARK!

TW/: Yandere, threats, death mentions, angst, stalking, kidnapping, death threats, drugging, torture (carving his name on you with a pocket knife)

pairing: Wooyoung x female reader

WARNING: This story does NOT portray Wooyoung or any other idol mentioned in any way this is strictly for the plot.

You looked around and made sure everything was still in place before you walked to your car when you got a message from your brother.

sung <3: are you home yet?

You: no sadly, I'm just ensuring everything is in place for Cara tomorrow.

sung <3: Ah okay I'm going to a party with Jay tonight so I'll be home late. I'll bring some food home!

You: okay! Have fun! and don't drink too much.

sung <3: okay and I won't Mom.

You rolled your eyes at his smart remark and proceeded to turn off the lights grab your tote bag and walk to the parking lot where you spotted your car and another car you assumed it was a college couple making out and walked to your vehicle. unlocking it and driving home. You made it home safe ( shocker ) got in the shower and decided to watch Netflix to kill a little bit of time when you swore up and down you heard someone call your name in the distance. You weren't stupid enough to walk out and investigate instead you turned your TV off laid down in your bed and tried to go to sleep, you closed your eyes and heard faint footsteps walking in the hallway of Heesungs and your shared apartment. You knew it wasn't Heesung he would've called stating he was on his way home and that he brought your food. Someone had to be in your apartment but who? and why? Your bedroom door slowly opened. Your heart was beating out of your chest but you pretended to be asleep maybe whoever it was would leave instead of murdering you. What did this person want you and your older brother were literal college students living in a crappy apartment that y'all college provided for students who didn't want to live on campus, Y'all worked at the community library nothing is exciting about that unless you really loved books. "My angel... I know you're awake" Wait... That voice sounds so familiar but you heard so many voices today that it's hard to decipher who it was. A cold hand came and caressed the side of your face. "Come on Y/N open your eyes. I'm not stupid" You gave in and opened your eyes looking straight at ... "Wooyoung?" your customer from earlier why is he here? "Why are you in my home? How did you get in? How did you even get here?" you asked him obviously scared shitless as you slowly sat up and slowly reached for your phone behind your back. "You ask too many questions. Move your hand." Wooyoung replied grabbing your arm. "You're not calling the cops on me I waited too long and worked too hard for this," Wooyoung said forcing you to stand clearly getting upset, and dragging you out of your room. "NO! STOP!" You screamed trying to throw yourself around. "It hurts me I have to do this" Wooyoung said as calmly as he could as he pulled out a tranquilizer stabbed your neck and injected it. Your squirming came to a halt as you collapsed in his arms. "It's okay baby... I'm taking you home now."

Wooyoung took you back to his house and gently placed you on the bed he built for you. he tied a rope around your wrist, proceeded to walk upstairs, grabbed your phone, and texted your brother.

You ( well wooyoung): sung, I'm going to one of my male friend's houses!

Sung <3: Who? And this late why?

You: His name is Yeosang and he asked if I wanted to play games and hang out since he wasn't going out tonight.

Sung <3: Oh ok. Be safe <3

You: Thanks love you <3

Wooyoung smirked to himself and turned off your phone he thanked yeosang for becoming your close friend and also letting wooyoung use his name as an excuse. Sometime later you woke up to a dim yellow light and a comfortable bed the walls were black and a quiet humming was heard. You tried to rub your eyes but your hands were tied up there was a sting in your neck from where wooyoung injected the tranquilizer. You started screaming for help praying that someone from outside would hear you and call the cops but you know that chances are slim. You heard heavy footsteps walking towards the basement and that's when Wooyoung came into sight. "You're up angel," Wooyoung said tilting his head to the side with a smirk. "You're going to kill me aren't you?" You asked looking down at your legs. Wooyoung swore his heart almost broke completely in half. "Kill you? NO. I want your heart Y/N. I want to actually love you and show you that all men aren't as shitty as your ex-boyfriends, I want to cherish you and show you that I'm the only one you need." He says walking towards you and caressing the side of your face. "Cherish me? you want to cherish me but you kidnapped me..." You moved your face away from his hand. "And I would never date you. even if we were the last two people on earth and we needed to repopulate I would never ever EVER be with you. So get out of your head and ignore this stupid fantasy that you got going on in your head." Wooyoung's jaw dropped. Did you really mean the words that came out of your mouth or were you just trying to make him upset. His jaw clenched and he gripped your chin. "Fine if you want to act this way then I'll show you where it gets you" Wooyoung let go of your chin walked upstairs grabbed his pocket knife that was on the living room table and walked back downstairs to the basement. "You see this?" He said opening the pocket knife "Don't worry about apologizing because I'll make sure you know. You are mine and I will treat you better." He grabbed your leg and held it down. "What are you doing?!" You start trying to kick your legs. "Marking you," Wooyoung said before he started to carve his name into your thigh. You started screaming and crying trying to throw yourself around but Wooyoung had you in a tight hold making sure you didn't move. "There!" Wooyoung said with a smile. You looked down to see 'Wooyoung' on your thigh. Tears streamed down your face and you started screaming about how much you hated him. Wooyoung just smirked and walked upstairs leaving you there to tire yourself out. Soon you did laying there with puffy eyes and his name with dried-up blood around it. Wooyoung came back down to the basement and started to clean up the wound.

#hwasshvur #wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez scenarios #wooyoung x y/n #yandere kpop #yandere ateez #kpopidol

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sapphos-corner · 4 months ago

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As the Seasons Pass pt. 0: "Early July" ☆ A sapphic fiction story

Synopsis: Genie is experiencing a headache in the form of a cryptic and tense homoerotic friendship. This chapter mainly surrounds that friendship. Genie meets a new friend named Valerie and eventually navigates the transition between her homoerotic relationship and the budding relationship with Valerie. All characters are original characters. This did start as a fanfic but due to certain moral qualms...I have decided to make this into a general fiction story with all original characters. Sorry for any confusion!

Contains: Literally just a confusing homoerotic dynamic between Genie and her friend. The very beginning of a what will become crush between Valerie and Genie.

Warnings: Minors please don't interact with this story. All characters are well over 18 years old.

Word count: 2.6K

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Sabrina<<33: Yeah I invited Joel tonight btw. I've been wanting y'all to meet!!

My first instinct when I read this message is to rip my skin off and go insane. Unfortunately I decided to take a different route, trying not to let this absolute bullshit injustice get to me.

Me: Omgggg I'm so excited to finally meet him!! I should be there in 15ish.

I buckle my seatbelt and grip the steering wheel. I am not prepared to meet this mystery man who also happens to currently be the bane of my existence. I think it may be good for me to see her with him, but it's gonna hurt like a bitch.

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When she opens the door, she seems different. She's dressed differently than usual. She leads me down the hallway to the living room. There he is.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you finally!" I exclaim, smiling and hoping the involuntary twitching of my right eye isn't noticeable.

"It's nice to meet you too!" He smiles at me warmly and waves his hand shyly.

I respond with a simple smile and greet the other roomies. I sit down at the coffee table and Sabrina comes to sit next to me.

"So how are things going with you and that girl?"

"Errrr I'm not really feeling it, I'm probably gonna let her know I just want to be friends." Little does she know, I've over-committed to her to the point where even thinking about dating another person fills my being with the strongest guilt I've ever felt. Wish that was mutual, but here we are.

She attempts and fails to stifle a smirk. She changes her facial expression quickly. Her eyes widen,, her brows lift and her lips part slightly.

"Whaaat, why?"

"I don't really know, she's cool and everything but I just can't see anything happening there."

"Yeah, you could do better anyways, whenever you told me about her I was like--" She scrunches her face in disgust and laughs. She says this about everyone I date.

"Sabrina" Joel calls. She turns around and he reaches his arm out, handing her his trash. She immediately gets up and throws it away for him.

I grimace slightly. This dude is closer to the trashcan than she is. He's not even in the middle of anything, his face has just been buried in his phone so far.

The group finally settles on a movie for the night. Some corny 2000's movie to watch ironically. We all laugh, cringe and gasp in unison as the movie progresses.

I look behind me to see Sabrina resting her head on Joel's lap. I feel like I've been stabbed in the chest fifty times with a dull butter knife. The remainder of the night she's glued to his side, barely bothering to even make eye contact with me.

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I spent the month of May mourning what could've been and accepting the reality of what really is. I know they've been seeing each other for a while, but actually seeing them together was excruciating. Especially because she didn't even seem like herself. She acted so self-conscious the entire night. Hyper-aware of every move she made, looking towards him for approval after every word she spoke.

She isn't who I thought. After so many conversations, I can't believe she's actually settling for a guy who's lame, uninterested in her personal life, and expects her to wait on him. The hours we've spent talking about how we hate dating men because of this exact behavior, and her praising him for not being like that, just for him to be exactly like that but she's too obsessed with him to acknowledge it.

She made her choice, I guess.

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June passes and I'm back at her house for another group hangout. One of her roomies, Charlie lets me in.

"Hiiiiiiiieeee I'm excited to see you! Sabrina went out to get some snacks for tonight but she should be back soon." She gifts me a hug and skips to the upstairs common area. I follow behind her and plop down next to her on the couch.

She cut her hair recently and dyed it back to her natural ash-brown color. She sits criss cross applesauce, and her shirt seems to swallow her entire body. She flips through the selection of titles on Amazon prime, and she settles on Ruby Gloom as background noise.

"Sooooo what have you been up to?" She turns to me, smiling brightly. Her light blue eyes wide and fixed on me.

"Honestly nothing too interesting, I feel like I'm in a weird transition stage of life right now, so it's just been a lot of the same stuff as usual I guess.. How about you??"

"Ugh same lowkey I've been suffering a little cause there's been roomie drama between Gracie and Jorden. I don't know, I just don't think I'm really adjusting well to the change in our environment recently."

"Oh my god yeah, I heard about that, has it gotten any less tense or is it still just...crazy?"

"It's definitely quieter and everyone's trying to keep the peace but it's just weird now, you know?"

"Yeah for sure, I'm sorry to hear that it's impacting you like this."

Loud footsteps start up the stairs and we look towards the entry way as they get closer. Sabrina walks out first, but she has this twisted, disgruntled look on her face. Joel follows behind her and my throat tightens.

"Hey guys!" I smile, trying hard to limit my reaction.

They smile at me awkwardly and she sits next to me on the couch. He pulls up a chair to sit in and buries his face in his phone.

"So, what have you been up to today?" I ask as casually as possible.

She opens her mouth to respond but is interrupted by a knock downstairs and Charlie excitedly popping up. When I look back over, her and Joel are locking eyes and communicating...telepathically? Honestly I can't really describe the type of interaction they're having but it's making me sick.

"Val's heeereee!!!" Charlie’s footsteps travel at lightning speed down the stairs and moments later her and Val appear in the entryway.

I met Val a couple months ago when Sab and I went to visit Charlie at work. They became what seems like pretty good friends rather quickly. She has quite a positive nature, so I'm really happy to see her here.

She sits on the couch opposite from me and smiles at me brightly.

"It's so nice to see you again, I've been seeing some of your posts dude and I love your art."

I can't help but blush a bit and shrug. "Thank you so much! I've been seeing yours too, what's that bar you went to recently? It looked so cool and, like, artsy?"

"Oh my gosh, yeah it's just a little spot downtown, I went for a show that one of my friends was doing, next time she performs I'll let you know and we can go." She responds, smiling with her eyes and I notice her cheeks start to glow with a light pink tint.

I nod excitedly and look back over to Sabrina, who's basically begging for Joel's attention. Joel who has his face buried in his phone. Joel who thinks he's so cool because he pretends to be a meta microcelebrity on instagram. Joel who acts like integrating into his girlfriends life and social circle is beneath him. Joel who won't even look up and talk to his girlfriend at the event she invited him to.

I roll my eyes and look straight at the TV. I'm doing the same thing she's doing. I'm begging for Sabrina's attention. Sabrina who's dating a man that doesn't care about her. Sabrina who thinks the bare minimum is above and beyond. Sabrina who disregards him in private and treats me like her girlfriend. Sabrina who ignores me when he's in the room. Sabrina who holds my hand while she drives. Sabrina who looks at me like I mean the world to her. Sabrina who can't make eye contact with me in public. Sabrina who has made me her backup. Sabrina who uses me to fulfill the emotional needs that Joel refuses to acknowledge. Sabrina who loves me. Sabrina who is ashamed of me.

I watch Ruby Gloom and remain silent. I glance over and listen in on Charlie and Val's conversations throughout the night. Besides those moments, I do my best to tune everything else out because it's not like anyone here is interested in talking to me right now anyways. Basically, I just do whatever I can to avoid looking in Sabrina and Joel's direction.

The energy in the room shifts after Joel leaves the room. I can feel Sab's eyes burning a hole into the side of my face. I turn my head to see her jump slightly and look forward. I look away and spot her head turn back in my direction. This cat-mouse thing continues until Joel steps back into the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm sorry I was kind of quiet tonight, I'm having really bad cramps. I need midol ASAP."

"Tell that man to go out and get you some." I say, half-heartedly joking. Chuckling to ease the underlying aggression.

"I would but I don't wanna be difficult, ya know? I'm gonna make some tea for myself actually. Let's hang out next Tuesday though! If you can."

"Yeah, just let me know what time works for you."

I open the door and she hugs me tight.

"Let me know when you get home."

I nod and turn away from her. When I get in my car, I drive around the block and park. I scream out of frustration and slam my head into the wheel. What the fuck are we doing? What the fuck is she doing?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I head straight into the shower. Closing my eyes as the steaming water runs over my face. I tilt my head down and stare at my feet. I don't think I'm capable of being loved romantically. The experience of loving me as more than a friend will always be an embarrassment to those who feel it. I will always be a secret, and nothing will ever get off the ground for me. The burning in my chest makes its way to my throat and tears begin to fall. I'm so sick of this. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired.

I slip into my bed and scroll through tumblr. At least I'll always have my stupid little blog.

I really need to move past this. I don't think I can keep waiting for her. I kind of want to play with her emotions the way she's played with mine. It's evil, but it's hard to not think about evening the score.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Heeeeey!! So I was thinking we could go to this bakery, on me! I've been wanting to take you here for a while."

"Yeah that looks awesome, let's do it!"

She got a croissant with cream filling and an iced americano. I got a strawberry swiss roll with an iced caramel latte.

"Do you wanna try mine?" We say in unison. We trade pastries and bite in. I reach for a napkin to wipe excess cream from the corner of my mouth. Her chin is resting in her hand and she watches me. Smiling endearingly.

We spend three hours in the cafe talking and laughing. We catch up about everything from the last few weeks and talk a bit about last night.

She breaks eye contact while she over-explains her silence last night. She has to know that I know the truth. Her reasons feel avoidant and empty.

"Honestly, you have nothing to apologize for, I totally get it, if i was in your position I would've been quiet too.

She nods her head slowly. Still refusing eye contact, her expression is mixed. A look of relief mashed with a guilty, stifled energy in her eyes. A soft smile on her lips paired with a vacancy in her pupils. She looks extraordinarily haunted.

"Do you wanna go to the park?"

Her head pops up and turns back towards me. Her smile bright and wide.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We walk up to our usual bench and sit, turned towards one another. My heart jumps a bit seeing her in the soft orange glow of the sun. Her eyes reflect the light and resemble honey. Her teeth are big and pearly white, pairing beautifully with her heart-shaped lips. Her dark brown hair compliments her tanned complexion like no other.

She reaches her hand out and places it over mine.

"You know what would be so cute?"

"What?"

"If we carved our initials into a tree here. I've never seen or heard of anyone doing that in real life."

My face gets hot and I can't help but smile.

"Yeah that would be cool, I have my knife on me, so we could totally do it."

After we settle on the tree, she starts peeling the bark back. I pull my knife out and start stabbing my initial into the tree. I hand the knife to her and she stabs in her initial.

"Should we put a heart around it?" I look over at her, and her face crosses slightly

"Uh, yeah we can put a heart around it."

Afterwards we head back over to the bench and proceed to talk for another three and a half hours. We sprinkle our fair share of gay jokes in. Her usually initiating them, and then seeming uncomfortable when I played along. The whole experience of hanging out with her feels like I'm jumping through hoops and running around in circles.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I send Joan a picture of our tree initials and caption the message 'what does this mean?' I'm not even through the door when I get a text back.

Joan: Can I be honest with you for a second?

Me: NO!!!! okay yeah

Joan: This is really fucked up. I get that she's confused but confused people tend to hurt everyone around them. After hearing about this for the last few months I gotta be honest and just tell you that I don't really fuck with Sabrina right now. This is actual nonsense and you know that. it's not fair to you and it's not fair to her boyfriend. I get that you have your reasons to not like him but that's still her boyfriend and nothing you do can change that. She's just doing whatever she wants and she's not taking anyone else into consideration. I'm sorry, i get that she's a massive part of your life right now but i can't support this anymore.

Me: Yeah. that's all true. Idk. I wont bring it up again.

I put my phone on the charger and head into the shower. I stand in place and stare at the tiles lining the wall.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I turn on my side, pulling the blanket up over my shoulder. I open instagram and go to Val's account. I've been thinking about her since I last saw her. I click the button for DM and start typing.

"Hey, it was super cool to see you again!! You're so pretty and nice, you added such a good vibe to the function, seriously."

I wish I had talked to her more, but instead I caught glimpses of her through her interactions with Charlie. She's extremely silly and a tad awkward. I noticed her being a very literal communicator. Charlie would throw her head back laughing and proceed to explain what she meant when Val would get confused.

I smile at the memory of Val's grin, which somehow burned into my brain at first sight. I scroll through my feed and the dm banner pops up across the top of my screen. She replied. My heartbeat speeds up and the corners of my mouth turn up involuntarily.

Val: Omg yesss it was cool seeing u again too. Also ur so sweet n pretty too! Next time we gotta sit next to each other bc we didn't get to talk a lot!

I like the message and click my phone off. This is good, making another friend right now might be a good way for me to build a support system and move past things with Sabrina. Joan was right, I'm very...over this.

#lesbian #sapphic fiction #oc story

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inkblot-inc · 7 months ago

Text

Where's Don Lino?

Summary: Our trio have some time to themselves since they're left to their own devices while Their presence on the living island gets is bring discussed.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mutant!TigerShark!Reader

[AU Masterlist] Arc 2: [Part 1] [Part 2] This is Part 3

Warning(s): Getting into some more subtle notes of discrimination, but no violence....and strong language I'm pretty sure.

Note(s): We got another chapter for Arc 2 bud! Reading this back, I just think it's funny that every single body is uncomfortable with this situation except for Jaws. They're just vibing and going with the flow. Except that doesn't really work when the situation surrounding them requires Jaws to be more cognizant...Anteeways, I hope y'all enjoy :3

Word Count: Pretty sure we're approaching 2k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

Once you, Natasha, Wanda, Sienna, and the others make it to the heart of Enoka, you all are immediately taken to Sienna’s office.

It turns out that Sienna is now one of the “acting leaders” on the island, specifically the one in charge of the security of it.

Enoka essentially runs itself, she just has a number of people in charge of the maintenance of the island and the people living on it.

These acting leaders were going to take time to deliberate and come to a course of action in terms of your presence on the hidden isle.

The “acting leaders” make up something called the Council of Nine, which is basically their government on Enoka outside of Enoka herself.

With a warning from Sienna to stay out of trouble in the meantime, the three of you left the council room while she stayed to explain the situation in full to the others inside. Natasha’s gait was unusually hesitant as you walked. “So the island is…alive?”

You chuckled as you reached for her hand in a soothing gesture. “You can relax, Natty. Enoka hasn’t physically moved in centuries. Once we’re born, we’re taught that she uses all of the plants covering the land to speak to us, kinda like mini speakers everywhere. The council of Nine just carry out her will more directly.”

Natasha’s shoulders relaxed slightly as the three of you made it back out into the open air. It was a relief you were able to convince Sienna to let the three of you leave on your own without an escort. This way, the three of you could spend time together and actually make use of your vacation time.

You briefly squeezed Natasha’s hand before you took it upon yourself to put the wind back in all of your sails. “Now who wants to see some real cool shit?” Wanda nor Natasha were definitely more receptive to the lighter turn of events, what with your enthusiasm being as contagious as it was reassuring.

Even with all of the visible changes to Enoka, you are actually excited to show Natasha and Wanda around the parts that you do remember.

Remember the core of the cruise/expedition/vacation was based around getting closure on your previously thought to be GONE home.

So in a way we’re doing that just with extra steps-

The natural energon produced by the Enoka herself contained in all of the foliage is used as a medium for the living island to communicate through. Kinda like mini speakers all over the island.

You simply have to start listening…

Speaking of, there was fuzzy gibberish that Wanda was able to pick up on. The tone of it led the brunette to zone out from time to time as she attempted to understand what she was hearing.

You took them up to one of the summits called the Hollow Point, that has a cavern on the side of it. Inside the Hollow Point are a series of mines for iron, but the biggest area has a ceiling of glittering quartz geodes.

Once your stomachs began protesting the long exploration the three of you were on, you wound up being led back to the more populated area of Enoka to get something to eat.

The only problem with going further into the localized area of the island is that there were more eyes on the three of you.

Enoka is an island full of people with extra abilities and features, people born like you and Sienna; an island exclusively of mutants.

The citizens of Enoka see Wanda and Natasha as outsiders, yes, but they can also immediately tell that Natasha specifically is human.

Sienna was also not afraid to remind her of this on their way to Enoka.

You came across one of Sienna’s guardsmen as you walked down the beaten path. She seemed to be heading in the same direction the three of you were walking in. The woman was clearly still on duty with her silvery blonde hair and suntanned skin mostly hidden under her armor.

Wanda took the initiative to start a conversation by waving her hand in the other woman’s line of sight. “Excuse me,” The blonde glanced in Wanda’s direction, but didn’t really look at her. “Did you need something?”

Her accented voice was softer than any of you expected, but Wanda continued undeterred, “Is there a place to eat down this way?”

The guardsmen didn’t respond right away, “Assuming that you want something on the surface,” She briefly eyed Natasha, “There’s a Brine-Baker down this trail on your right. You cannot miss it.”

Wanda gave a small smile, “Thank you…I don’t think we got your name before.”

The woman simply stared at Wanda before squinting. “I didn’t give it.” There was a small upturn in her lips, “It’s Zal.” She turned to face forward again before taking her leave, effectively ending the brief conversation.

With the three of you making your way down to the Brine-Baker, your eyes widened at the building. “That’s what she was talking about. Come on, this stuff is great!” You almost dragged Natasha and Wanda into the establishment in your haste to get food to eat.

The BrineBaker’s hut was on the smaller side, but it was comfy enough. You found an empty booth for the three of you to sit at before looking at the menus that were already set in each booth. There were options ranging from saltfish, mussels, crab, shrimp, octopus, and even hagfish, to pretzels, salted caramel pies, dark chocolate tarts, and peanut brittle.

Natasha looked away from the menu, “I take it all the salted foods are why it’s called Brine-Baker?”

Having already chosen what you were going to get, you set your menu down. “Brine-Bakers are seafood shops/diners that specialize in serving dishes made with their harvest from the brine pools under Enoka in the deep sea. Brine Pool Farming is actually a profession here as far as I know, since you had a good few people on the island that were unaffected by the pressure of going so deep underwater.”

Natasha took another look at the menu with that explanation. “All these creatures get put in these brine pools? They have to be pretty big I imagine,”

You nodded along, “Sea creatures get big as hell the deeper you go, but they don’t last long in the pools, since they’re even bigger. We weren’t allowed to play anywhere near them as kids cuz we’d probably fuck around and ‘get stuck and die’.” You briefly chuckled at the familiar threat you heard as a child. “Once they’re in the brine pool for long enough, the salt forms a shell coating around them, preserving the creature inside. You just gotta pay attention when they’re ready to be taken out. It’s not as salty as you’d expect though, it’s just the way it’s prepared.”

Wanda closed her menu after picking what she wanted to eat. “Well, you learn something new every day.” She stacked all three of the menus on top of each other, “So are we all ready to order?” With the three of you ready, you called over an available waiter to take your order...

Not gonna lie, that food was scrumptious. And very filling.

After the three of you ate, you walked around the more isolated parts of the island since it seemed that you were still left to your own devices.

You were currently making your way through one of the denser forests. You wanted to see if there were any remaining flower fields on the surface that you could show Wanda and Natasha.

The fuzzy noise Wanda was hearing was louder around her as she zoned out once again. You and Natasha noticed this once again before both of you asked what was going on.

Wanda’s eyes focus on one of the thicker trees with her eyes slightly squinted. “I haven’t stopped hearing this faint gibberish since we got here…”

Natasha stopped to listen out for said gibberish, “I don’t hear anything, and no one else seems to be around.”

You turned to look at the brunette with your brows slightly furrowed, “What kinda gibberish is it?” Rather than try to explain what she was hearing, Wanda just mentally projected it to you as best as she could.

{Solt hclid, --rwe ve-- u-- en--. Solt hclid, Y 'ml---- --o rhee}

“Well It makes sense, since you can read minds and all…” The partial translation you were able to get just made you confused as you tried to piece the rest of it together. One thing was clear though, “Enoka’s calling out to you. She doesn’t project very often, since I don’t think there are other telepaths on this island that can reach her by themselves,”

Wanda attempted to digest what you’d just explained. It was one thing to have someone mentally project to her, as she hasn’t come across anyone else with telepathic abilities, but for it to be an entity that they were currently standing on threw her for a loop. And it presumably wanted her to respond.“Why would the island be calling out to me?”

To you, there were a few other things to consider, but you continued your musings aloud. “You’ll have to meet Her in person at some point. Both of you will probably,”

“Both of us?” Natasha watched as you gingerly picked a flower off of one of the taller exposed stems on the path.

“It’s cool that Wanda can hear Enoka directly, but neither of you are able to understand Her or anyone else on the isle because she hasn’t gifted you with her energon. All Enokan plants have it, but the sap from her main vessel should allow you to speak and understand the mother tongue. We should’ve brought you there first, really.”

Wanda and Natasha shared an uncertain look with each other before Wanda spoke up. “I don’t think that that’s a good idea, gup.”

You look back at them, confusion plain on your face. “Why not? You need to understand what’s going on if we’re gonna spend any amount of time here, and I can’t teach it to you two until you have that foundation. I don’t think you want me playin’ translator for all three of us.” You chuckled at that idea before you realized you were the only one laughing. “What’s up with you two?”

To you this was a simple problem with an even simpler solution:

Natasha and Wanda are suffering from a language barrier, you know how to get rid of said barrier, so that’s what you should do.

Your excitement is what blinds you to most of Natasha and Wanda’s trepidation at even being on Enoka.

But why are these two so standoffish to be there even though they were just as adamant to go on this vacation? WELL there’s a number of reasons:

This was not originally part of the plan.

While they’re glad to actually visit your home, Natasha and Wanda exclusively have not had the most warm welcome from, not only Sienna and her troops, but also from the other citizens of Enoka.

The Enokan language is not just a cultural difference in language, but it also acts as a security for everyone that lives on this (again) hidden island.

Freely giving Wanda and Natasha a clearly exclusive buff is not a good idea, nor would they probably be allowed had that idea reached the ears of anyone else…

** footnote: I wanted to use a completely different script for the Enokan language being spoken, but I couldn’t find a way to import it so that it was shown, so instead I made a simple code using typoglycemia (aka just unscramble the letters of each word). To make it so that it didn’t look as clunky, I sometimes replaced (i) with (y). Some words that end with vowels may have an apostrophe that takes the place of the vowel. Apostrophes can also be found at the beginning of words with vowels for fluidity’s sake. I didn’t think swears should be scrambled cuz that just *looks* off to me. The point of these changes is to have this resemble a spoken language more than it is a blatant tactic to confuse you.

Here's a word unscrambler in case you need it

#jaws au #jaws: arc 2 #marvel #marvel fanfiction #black widow #natasha romanoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #mutant!reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #jc inkworks #ink.nat #ib-jc.

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charlotterhea · 7 months ago

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I'm thinking about leaving the English Fandom

At least as a writer.

I've just finished posting the translation of one of my longest fics and... Boy, the feedback is depressing. I've planned to start translating the next long thing but I seriously lack any motivation to do so. Yk, translating is exhausting! I already wrote that story once, I went through it several times, and now I am supposed to engage with it yet again only for that sad outcome of verbal engagement I get in return?!

There is a lot I dislike about the German fandom and the way the German archive works, but the comments... the comments!

And currently, ISEM gets translated into Russian and I sometimes take a look at those comments as well and honestly, almost every poorly translated Russian comment excites me more than the majority of the English ones I get.

Why the heck is that? What is wrong with you English folk that you are so notoriously unable to write some decent comments nowadays? I know this has been different! There were authors writing oneshots for the writer of every 1000. comment they got on a story! 1000!!! I didn't even reach 600 for a 70-chapter-long story! WTF?!

I know, I know, I sound very ungrateful right now, but I'm done with being humble and grateful for a bunch of emojis that get thrown my way. I sit at my desk for hours and hours on end, pour my heart onto empty pages, and bring characters and bad-ass-long plots to life - resulting in stories longer than a couple of the HP books combined! -, and a considerable part of what I get in return is some emojis and a generic thank you?! No! I refuse to be grateful for that any longer! There are enough sympathetic posts around trying to encourage readers to at least leave an emoji or a key smash as a comment and yet I have this story that got over 1300 kudos and has more than 500 subscribers and not even the last fucking chapter, not even the finale gets me more than ten comments!

'Oh, but maybe there will be more soon!' you might say but I assure you: No. Most likely there won't because y'all started treating AO3 like fucking Instagram and the likelihood of somebody commenting on a story older than three of four days is LOW! If I don't churn out story after story after chapter after story I just get no feedback at all anymore although I already wrote all that stuff that is right there waiting to be fangirled about!

And the worst thing is: Those old stories are fangirled about! But not in the comments. When did you begin excluding authors? When did you begin seeing us as some bunch of untouchables instead of the dude next door who is just as insane about the same two to ten blorbos as you are? When did you begin to squeal about stories far away from the authors instead of with them in the comments? Y'all are acting like old stories are lava when it comes to comments! The only way I see that old stuff actually still gets read is by the daily kudo mail.

Really, I wish AO3 would turn off kudos. Kudos are such an easy way out of commenting, and all the 'Let me give kudos for each chapter!' posts are a testament to that. Honestly? No! You don't deserve to give kudos for every chapter. You don't deserve to feel like you've sufficiently done your duty by pressing a fucking button! You deserve to be ashamed of reading amazingly crafted stories for fucking free and not even having the decency to cobble some lousy sentences together when you're done consuming!

Oh, you are shy? Well, Brenda, guess what! I was shy about posting that story as well and yet I did so you had a good time after work! Suck it up! Nobody knows who you are anyway! Fuck, log out and write a guest comment if you really have to!

You don't have time? Well, you bloody well did have time to read the 6k+ words I churned out, so stop whinging about the five minutes it takes to write three sentences of gratitude!

You don't know what to say? Honey, you just read 6k+ words and there is not a single thing on your mind to say about it?! There was not a single line you could copy and say something like 'I laughed out loud at that!' or 'You had me in tears about this!' or 'I couldn't believe he fucking said that!'? Then why are you even reading the story?!

Stop those lame excuses and start commenting on fics! Start showing some fucking gratitude for the work writers do just for you to consume it like a bloody Netflix series! We don't get a single penny for the hours we spend in front of a screen! We cannot earn money with fanfiction! We cannot open commissions to get our rent paid! All we get are comments and most of them are a fucking shame considering the amount of work they are supposed to show appreciation for!

So, if in 2024 you still silently consume stories or keep chicken out of writing a couple of cohesive sentences by throwing some heart emojis in the writer's vague direction you deserve to be robbed of the kudos button and to be ashamed of yourself because you're actively supporting the death of fandoms and with that one of the few free sources of joy we still have. One of the few spaces no corporation uses to squeeze some money or data out of us and I cannot believe that this still has to be spelled out. Fandom is a group project and nobody likes the idiots sitting by, contributing nothing, and still getting all of the benefits.

Phew. I needed to get that out of the system. And now I'll go and contemplate translating another story. But after posting this I probably won't get comments anymore anyway because it's always the wrong people who feel addressed by shit like this.

Well, whatever...

#me ranting #fanfiction #writing #comments

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temunitu · 2 years ago

Note

Do you have any good Mike or Raph fic or anything? Could be any version but I think it would be nice to read about the other half of the turtle boys. That and I just want to read more Mikey fanfic…

here’s my list with a quick rating and summary to help you find exactly what you want! some of these are just on my reading list but i’ve heard good things about them, or they sound interesting.

this list is mostly mikey because that's my boy right there. i haven't seen many raph and mikey fics unfortunately. someday i'll complete mine.

as usual, if any of y'all have read any good fics and want to recommend some, feel free! we love and appreciate raph and mikey on this blog.

fics i have read:

(Rise Mikey) Going Under - 12/10 i was on the edge of my seat. the boys are facing a new villain and mikey gets trapped underwater. made me cry

(Rise Mikey) Sometime I Get Lost Under The Painted Sky - 12/10 post rise movie mikey tries out vent art for the trauma he got from the kraang. love the way the author describes the paintings of kraang and mikey's feelings surrounding it. sent chills up my spine.

(2003 Mikey) A Simple Act of Kindness - 10/10 very cathartic, also made me tear up. an accurate depiction of what the next battle nexus would look like and how mikey would react to losing.

(2003 Mikey) Better Genes - 9/10 i’ve been obsessed with this prompt ever since i found out about it. it’s a simple rewrite of if mikey was infected instead of don during the 2003 good genes arc. has a lot of references to 2003 and a few to 2012. the chapter “journey to the center of mikey’s mind” is beautifully described and really captures the mystic feelings 2003 has.

(2003, all) Dissection - 14/10 much needed talking through what happened after the space arc. very in character. made me chuckle AND tear up.

fics i'm reading:

(Rise F!Mikey) Mystic Hands - so far, the writing is so eloquent and rich. it's about mikey travelling back in time instead of casey jr. iconic peepaw, he travels back in time and immediately takes a nap. couldn't agree more.

(Rise F!Mikey) Too Lucky To Count - another future mikey goes back in time fic! (can you tell i have a niche interest?) so far, the writing is so gripping, talking about how each character died in the apocalypse. f!mike seems to have a dry, dark sense of humor from what i can tell which should prove hilarious.

fics on my to-read:

(Rise Mikey) Stranger Danger - rise mikey and 2012 mikey swap places! sounds like a really interesting concept.

(Rise Mikey) Portal Chaos - an au mikey (inspired by the last ronin) gets transported back in time. the author has a LOT of fun art for this one.

(2003 Mikey) Pretend That I Never Left - alternate fic where mikey is thrust into the world of horizon: zero dawn instead of reality check. i've seen the artwork and i'm excited to read this.

(2003 Raph) From Ruins - takes place in the SAINW timeline. looks exceedingly interesting, and the authors have illustrations to go with the story (can you tell i love art?)

(Rise Sunset Duo) Hold Him Tight (And Never Let Go Again) - "Mikey never realized just how much it hurt that he and Raph drifted away, until he ends up with an unconscious Raphael, trapped in a collapsing building, and unable to reach his brothers." i'm gonna cry so hard when i read this one, aren't i?

(Rise Raph) Elegy of An Older Brother - explores raph's feelings post-movie and how he's coping with no longer being leader.

(Rise Raph) Glass Heart - post movie, the others treat raph with more care after he got infected. i think it's a bunch of oneshots of raph bonding with various family members? sounds cute.

(Rise Raph) Unfavorable Ramifications - post-movie, raph dealing with the loss of his eye and getting comforted by donnie and mikey. skimmed through it and it seems in-character, like a fun read.

i'll add more whenever i come across them

#fic rec #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #sunset duo #rottmnt sunset duo #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2003 mikey #tmnt 4kids #fanfic recommendation #future mikey #rottmnt future mikey #post rottmnt movie #rottmnt movie

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newfrontierbackstage · 8 months ago

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1,000 views Milestone and more

Hello everyone. Today I have come to talk about the most important milestone the fic has ever reached. A little bit ago, New Frontier reached 1k views on Ao3 and it honestly made me so proud, happy and satisfied with seeing such a number, even after months of hiatus and inactivity. The support that this fic has received is... honestly something I never expected.

If I may go off character for a bit, I want to tell you guys a few guys. I created this fic just for myself, for my own sake and to show the fandom some cool stuff, some action and my type of writing that I tend to like and go for. The first version was very much a showcase of inexperience and lack of understanding for a lot of things when it came to writing, but it was still the most fun I had writing the fic.

Then I went to reread what I had created and written... I started to see the cracks, to see that what I had put on the paper just wasn't as amazing as I first thought it was. So with that in mind, I decided to start going back and rewrite previous chapters, as it felt necessary and I felt it could elevate the story to higher levels and although that was pretty fun at first, it started to drain me pretty bad in the lenghtier chapters. It started to feel like a job.

The chapters have absolutely improved and I feel the fic's direction is in a much better spot, but I had to fight myself to get the motivation to keep going. Being honest, I was very much considering the possibility of dropping the fic on its entirety. as it truly felt that draining and boring to write. I wasn't doing new stuff, I was just rewriting older stuff and noticing my many mistakes!

My friends like CharmmyColour and LonelyLittleShips adviced me to write other parts of the story that were more exciting or thrilling. I honestly didn't think that was going to work out and I still tried to write through Chapter's 5 and 6 with a pessimistic and saddened state of mind.

That was until GoldenTulipLynx (my current cowriter) came into my life a year ago. We started to discuss more of the fic and he actively encouraged me more and more to write a few months ago. He told me to do so at least once a week to get some progress done and I did. It wasn't a perfect process, but it definitely led me to write more. Then he suggested me to write something exciting and for the first time, I actually listened to that advice and...

It worked. It gave me my inspiration back somewhat and it made me want to get writing more and more. If it wasn't for his inspiration and also the encouragement from my other friends, I may have cancelled the fic as a whole, so for that I'm truly grateful to them.

What I'm also grateful for is have fans and followers that have been patient, loyal and comprehensive towards the fic's state and progress. This took so long because I wanted to give you guys something worthy of that much of a wait and also have fun while doing so.

I really wanted this message to be special, as I felt the ocassion was the perfect time to do so. Truly, thank you guys. Thank you for still being here and I hope you look forward to what else I have cooking up.

And because I knew this was such a special ocassion/milestone, I also wanted to give you guys something exceptional, so with that in mind... I commissioned some art for New Frontier as a treat for you guys, one that displays Cavendish with his rifle in a wonderful forest, one that's going to be the usual hangout spot for him and Dakota.

This is my gift to you, everyone. Hope you have a good day/afternoon/evening/night and I'll see y'all down the trail!

With love: hypersonicJD

Edit: I have removed the background of this piece as I have found out it was been AI generated. I do not condone anything AI generated and thus, the commissioner's credits have been removed as well and I would like everyone to reblog this new version of this post.

#milo murphy's law #au #space western #balthazar cavendish #fanfic #new frontier #mml #space cowboys #a new frontier #1k views #Ao3 milestone #sci-fi forest

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satans-helper · 1 year ago

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Reaching for Stardust - Part I

Read Looking for Space here.

Listen to the LFS playlist / RFS playlist (all fic playlists get updated even to this day!!)

Word Count: ~3300

Warnings: none

A/N: Y'all...I'm so happy to be here, immersed in this new series. I began writing this back in April after I, seemingly out of thin air, came up with a foundation that seemed solid enough to even attempt writing a sequel to my beloved LFS. Ever since I finished that fic, I thought that one day, I might return for more. I have a very hard time letting any series go and LFS was truly a momentous project in my life--the fact that so many people have read it and continue to read it brings me so much joy, I can't even tell you.

Having been a fan of GVF for about five years now, I do feel a lot of sentimentality and nostalgia surrounding the band, the music and definitely my own fics, too, particularly all my series. I can still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I was mapping out certain pieces of them in my mind. I felt a huge rush of nostalgia recently when I revisited my city's planetarium for a star show, which was a huge source of inspiration for LFS, and I realized that it was literally this same month, August, in 2019 that I was just finishing up the first 8 chapters of LFS, not even planning on making it a 30-something part series (LOL!). You'll see, if you read, that some of these feelings find their way into RFS. This isn't because it's a self-insert fic, rather that's inspired by how much this fandom has seen, experienced and grown over the years. I imagine my friends and readers who were back there in the pre-pandemic GVF era can relate to some level of nostalgia. A big theme in RFS is change. I think we all can absolutely relate to that, too. One thing remains the same though--this is a love story, through and through.

This probably seems like major overkill to introduce fan fiction but this is how I feel. Many of my old GVF friends have moved on in some way or another and I've often felt alone the past few years with still being so tethered to this group of beautiful, silly, fascinating boys that spark so much joy and fantasy for all of us. So, as always, thank you so, so much for reading my fics. I really hope you enjoy

P.S. I am cross-posting to wattpad (comments bring me life!)

---

I was getting lost in the pictures of Alaska–deep, shiny blue water, towering, white-capped mountains, a vivid stream of neon green in the Aurora Borealis, lush green forests. Even enormous, graceful whales surfacing, their tails nearly popping out of my screen as I unconsciously leaned in closer, hovering over my desk. I blinked hard as I turned my attention to the next picture that had been emailed over to me–a huge white ship, lined with windows that seemed endless–and huffed, shifting in my squeaky second-hand office chair. I didn’t even have a true desire to go on a cruise or even go to Alaska, but the neverending research into foreign lands nagged at me, reminded me that it felt like a very a long time since I’d been anywhere new. At least not anywhere exciting, really.

I grabbed my phone and opened the gallery to scroll through the last trip Josh and I had been on. It’d been a long weekend about nine months prior, which reminded me that it wasn’t all that long ago at all but it still felt like ages since returning to the normalcy of day to day life. It had been a gorgeous summer excursion where we’d had a comfortable, clean hotel room, a warm pool and three nights out all to ourselves, and I found myself yearning for that freedom and escapism again. Plus the sunshine and heat. Michigan winters persisted, long and brutal, and we hadn’t broken through into any real spring weather until just the past week, which had at least given Sam a nice birthday. Josh and Jakes’ birthday was coming up fast. I thought it’d be nice to do something for them, with all of us–go somewhere for real again, all four of us, run amok in a hotel or airbnb. Or just have a nice dinner together followed by bar-hopping. Whatever the twins wanted, really.

The picture I’d secretly snapped of Josh in our hotel room wandering out of the bathroom completely naked save for a towel twirled around his head came up after a dual selfie of us at the pool and I laughed loudly to myself, throwing my hand to my mouth. I’d nearly forgotten about so many of the little moments. It was so easy to forget when time kept slipping by like the wind, each good moment gone in the blink of an eye and each bad moment suspended in the air until something else came along, and the minutes turned to days and the days turned to weeks and months and before I even knew it, years had gone by and it felt like nothing and everything had changed all at once.

Next I scrolled to a picture of the best breakfast I’d ever had, this amazing brie-stuffed French toast with a warm berry compote and housemade whipped cream, then the picture of Josh’s breakfast, which had been a skillet full of chorizo, bell peppers, eggs and queso that he’d deemed to be “orgasmic.” My stomach clenched in response and I looked at my phone clock, suddenly eager for dinner once again. My hours were almost up with 5 p.m. creeping on me and my mind turned its attention to Josh and I’s relatively new Friday night ritual–binging on Chinese and watching the most obscure, nonsensical horror movie we could find. With that, I swiveled around to stretch my legs in the sun through the window and pulled up the menu on my phone, trading pictures of Alaskan mountains for pictures of fried dumplings and greasy lo mein; a few seconds later, a very appropriate text popped up:

Hey mama, I’m gonna be a little late tonight. Want me to pick up dinner on the way home?

Yes please. What’s your ETA?

8ish? What’s on the menu tonight?

I’m gonna do the orange chicken and an egg roll. Wanna share some crab rangoon?

yes I do. What about dumplings?

obviously!

;) see you soon

I’d need something to hold myself over until Josh got home, though I was glad to have this part of our routine to look forward to. Stability was important and even Josh had come to understand that more and more. I turned my attention back to Alaska, mulling over the images and cycling through words in my head that I could bring to the page and entice people with, as if cruises needed more promotional materials and marketing to bring in profit. They were relatively cheap, all-inclusive and easy for people to handle and reminding myself of this made me bitter all over again–why couldn’t my company make one of their perks a free trip for employees once a year? I didn’t know their exact state of finances but I bet it could be done. They just didn’t want to. And the irony was that they didn’t pay most of their employees enough to take extravagant trips of their own.

Whatever. There were other, more important things I told myself, getting up to stretch and find something from the fridge or snack cupboard. In 32 more minutes I could clock out and put these wild places out of my head for a bit–the weather called for a long walk somewhere.

It was the nicest day we’d had so far, which I fully realized once I was driving and headed out to a familiar, easy forest trail Josh and I often did together on the weekends. But we had a busy weekend coming up, actually. We desperately needed to stock up on groceries–my most recent find of an old packet of peanuts as my last snack was testament to that–and then the boys had a show at Waterstreet. Sunday wouldn’t be as fun–my sister was repainting the entire interior of her new house and had somehow roped Josh and I into helping, in part because we were just that nice, according to Josh anyway, and also because she let each of us pick one color for one room each. Josh had chosen a shade of dusky desert red for the den and I’d chosen something called “spring morning,” a pale lilac, for the powder room, which seemed pretty fitting for the time of year she was making these renovations.

The trail was bustling, which I wasn’t surprised by, and much of my walk was spent nodding and smiling to other people passing by. The break in weather was infectious for all of us in the area–everyone seemed to be in better moods finally, myself included even despite the gripes I had with work and money and everything else. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday that Josh and I were lying on our backs in the deep black night, gazing up at infinite stars and trying to come up with material for that poetry class that had been the catalyst to bring us together. The warm sun above me while I continued down the dirt path also reminded me of days past, of the first hike Josh and I ever had together when we both stripped down to our feelings, laughed, kissed through sweat, and had decided that was it. We’d made a lot of decisions over the years, so many that I felt like I hadn’t even noticed some of them, but I’d never decided to let fog cloud my memories. I hated that it happened regardless. And sometimes I absolutely hated what changes all the decisions had led to. I wanted to go back in time every once in a while to relive those moments and those days and it made my heart ache to know I couldn’t. Josh would assure me that the future would be just as good–and sometimes even better–than what those memories had to offer.

And he was often right. Life was good, and I reminded myself of that as I narrowly avoided tripping over an obtuse rock sticking out of the dirt, it was just more challenging now. There was no school to fall back on–I hadn’t realized how much of a safety net that had really been at the time–and less free time. There were more financial worries. More pressures in life. But if nothing else, I had the best people in my life possible; if nothing else, Josh and I were rock solid. He didn’t let a week go by without reminding me that we were soulmates and I agreed wholeheartedly–no matter what might happen, we’d have each other.

After my walk, I thought about running our necessary errands on my own but ultimately decided that’d be a deviation in routine I didn��t want to make. Josh was the best person to go grocery shopping with, being surprisingly focused and deliberate in his choices. He also was the best at picking out produce, somehow always able to discern which fruit was just the right amount of ripe, and he was good at finding the best deals. He was the coupon cutter, which always made me laugh, and I was the one who followed instinct more than the list we mutually made the day before. I would get caught up in being frivolous, more often than not tossing special treats into the cart that I couldn’t excuse beyond something like, “Come on, you like them too” to which Josh would agree with his cheeky little grin.

And that same grin was on his face later that night when he came home with the bag bursting with Chinese takeout. His voice and the smell of soy sauce and that syrupy orange stuff made me hop up from the couch, excited for all the things, but mostly him.

Josh gave a little groan as he headed into the kitchen, his backpack still over his shoulders while he carried the white plastic bag in his right hand and his keys in his left. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, shuffling and rustling all the way out of my sight. “Stephanie needed extra time–she’s having trouble with the new cameras. And to be fair, they do have a steep learning curve. You remember how much trouble I had with them last week?”

I followed him in, taking the bag out of his hand so he could zip back out and discard his keys and backpack. “Which one is Stephanie again? The one who’s obsessed with ‘film noir?’”

Josh chuckled from beyond the walls before appearing again, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Yeah, that’s her. And that’s another thing–I’m gonna have to review how these cameras even film in black and white because for the life of me I can’t remember right now.”

“Does she have any movie recs?” I asked as I opened a cupboard to get plates. “We gotta figure out what we’re watching tonight.”

“What about Night of the Reaper? You haven’t seen that one yet.”

“Yeah, but you've seen it,” I replied, wagging a pair of chopsticks at him. “That’s like, cheating. We gotta watch something we both haven’t seen.”

“We’ll find something.” Josh moved in close and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and my heart fluttered–it always did. “What about you? What’d you get up today in my absence?”

“I went to the Hemlock Trail. It was busy,” I told him while we both plated our respective dishes, my stomach growling. “It was nice though. Looks like we’re gonna have good weather for your birthday.”

“That would be ideal but I’m going to be cautiously optimistic. Last year we had snow, remember?”

“Yeah, like a dusting,” I said with a little laugh, purposefully knocking my hip into his. “I’m gonna be blatantly optimistic and say it’ll be good. And we still gotta figure out what you wanna do.”

“We'll figure it out, my love.” Josh led the way to the living room and sank into the couch which we could have probably done with replacing; he set his can of sparkling water on the end table then grabbed the remote. “I’m so excited for these dumplings. I don’t care if it’s cat food.”

“They do kind of taste like cat food, don’t they?” I concurred, settling down on the other side of the couch. I put my plate on the coffee table in front of us and pulled it closer.

“They smell like cat food, too,” Josh said, picking a dumpling up between his pair of chopsticks. “I don’t mind. They’re fucking delicious.”

“I really don’t get how you’ve always known how to use chopsticks,” I remarked, opting for a fork instead to pierce my own dumpling while Josh fished through the cushions for the remote as he chewed. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ve tried to teach you, doll.”

“And I haven’t learned, so either you’re a shit teacher or I’m a shit student.”

Josh laughed and swatted my arm with the remote. “Hush! I’ll have you know that my students love me.”

I nodded, chewing. “So I’m a shitty student after all.”

“You are not. There’s a learning curve to chopsticks too, ya know.” Josh took another bite of his dumpling then leaned forward, peering at the TV. “Okay, so–what’re we watching?”

I followed his scrolling through our shared list of choices while I tackled the orange chicken. “What about that one?” I asked when he paused on the title Devil’s Ground. “It looks pretty obscure. 1983, a director I’ve never heard of, looks grainy and weird.”

“It’s been on our list forever,” Josh said, clicking the play button. “Let’s give it a shot.”

The movie really did turn out to be obscure–the protagonist was a teenage girl who finds an old well in the middle of the woods and climbs down into it, for some reason believing that her missing brother would be down there. Josh and I chided about the already well-known fairytale parallels, except in this movie the girl encountered creatures in the world beyond the well even weirder than those in Alice in Wonderland or Labyrinth, and ended up having to get betrothed to some menacing demon, played by a giant puppet, to save her brother. Then she and her brother kill the demon and find their way out of the strange world and back in their world.

Josh laughed loudly as the movie came to an end. “That was ridiculous. One of the best ones we’ve seen so far.”

“Those puppets were something else,” I commented, watching the credits roll and hoping everyone on that production went on to do better things. “The little blue one with teeth was my favorite.”

“Why didn’t they just get a real actor for the demon?” Josh asked, shaking his head. “Good god. It was a travesty but also kind of brilliant. I could show this to my students to demonstrate the use of close-up shots.”

“The close-up on the puppet demon when he was being slaughtered seemed unnecessary.”

Josh got up and stretched, gathering all of our plates and silverware and his chopsticks. “It really was. You want me to do the dishes?”

I turned the TV off and followed him, carrying in our empty drinks. “I thought another part of our Friday night tradition was saving the dishes for the next day and we can argue about it then.”

“No argument. You get to do them since I got the food,” Josh said as he set the plates into the sink with a clatter, then pinched my side. “Deal?”

I giggled, shrinking away from his ticklish touch. “Deal.”

“Anyway, my darling,” Josh began to say, twirling away from me and to another kitchen cabinet. I watched, amused at how he always struggled to reach far enough up to get the wine glasses. “There’s a full moon tonight. Let’s go see it.”

“What? There is?” I asked, trying to peek at wherever it may have been through the kitchen window, our third-story apartment giving us a halfway decent view of the sky most of the time. That was one of the few perks of this place–we’d moved in last year, sizing up so I could have my “office” and enough space in general for both of us to not be completely on top of one another–though Josh never complained about that–but the building was old and lacking a number of things, namely outdoor space. Our little balcony was all we had anymore.

Josh trailed out, wine glasses tinkling in one hand while he held the mostly full bottle of red wine in the other, and I followed again, feeling a sense of eagerness for the night sky which I hadn’t felt in, well, about a month. Our life together was full of tradition, I had come to realize in time, and a viewing party of the full moon whenever possible was certainly one of them. I’d just been too wrapped up in Alaskan cruises to remember this one on the calendar.

The night air was chilly–a tingle ran down my spine and Josh noticed this as I sat down next to him on the cushioned bench we’d garbage-picked right after moving in. He skillfully and quickly poured each of us wine, set the bottle down and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close.

“It’s gorgeous,” he declared, his voice as rich as ever but a softness brushed through those words. I always loved whenever he got so starstruck over something that he couldn’t help but be concise.

“It really is,” I agreed, pulling my gaze away from Josh’s equally–if not more so–gorgeous face to take in the huge globe of bright cool white above us. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what planet I’m on.”

Josh laughed, light and affectionate. “You’re on planet earth. It’s disappointing sometimes, I know, but if we weren’t here, I’m not sure we’d be able to see the moon and the stars like this.”

I took a drink, already lulled by Josh’s voice and his warm, strong arm around me. He’d always been strong, considerable muscle secure beneath silky tan skin, but he’d gotten stronger still; the muscles had become even more obvious and I sometimes poked fun, and a little bit of envy, at him for being a “hard-body” because, well, he was. I’d learned to memorize the curves and lines of his body throughout the changes, tracing every plain and valley with my fingers whenever I had the chance.“Probably not, no. We’re really lucky after all, aren’t we?” I said, reaching up to stroke his hand over my shoulder.

“I think we are. Especially if we can see the stars wherever we go.”

“Speaking of–earlier I was thinking about how it’s been a while since we took a trip anywhere.”

“Yeah? Well, where would you want to go?” Josh asked, bringing his wine to his lips. “Not Alaska, I assume.”

“No, not Alaska. But I don’t know, Josh, I feel like we should go somewhere soon.”

Josh took another drink, looking ahead through the darkness that was interrupted by various porch lights from the other apartments rather than up at the jeweled sky. I’d expected enthusiasm–he’d have more free time soon with the semester coming to an end and I still had a lot of vacation days left, making the whole thing easy in theory–but he was uncharacteristically quiet.

“What?” I prodded, tugging at his wrist.

“No, nothing,” he assured me, coming alive again with his body squirming beside me, his hand grabbing mine in reciprocity. “I was just thinking about it. We should both think about it some more.”

I returned my attention back to the moon and the stars and a memory overcame me so viscerally it actually hurt–the abandoned barn, the vast field, the endless sky hanging overhead the two of us. “Alright, let’s think about it,” I concluded, wishing that the place we could travel to was back in time.

Josh sighed and curled around me. “I feel like a dumpling,” he said, lifting a hand to pat his stomach, and I laughed right into the night along with him.

---

Tagging no one because my list is so outdated that none of those people are even in the fandom or use tumblr anymore LOL please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #gvf fic #josh fic #josh kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kszka #sam gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #lfs #rfs #I'M BACK!!!!

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memberment · 3 months ago

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Genesis

I forgot to say good morning but it's 7:38 and I'm at 53.5k. I need to figure out WHAT TO SAY for 1k to finish sixteen, but writing fluff only serves to kill me. WHY IS THIS SO HARD?! I was like the fluff queen like not even two business weeks ago!!!!

But I will push through. Because then I get to write something wicked this way comes!! AND THAT IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER. It's not the best chapter, but it's when so much stuff comes together and so many secrets come to light. Which I am very excited about.

And I'll probably break off to draw the art for that chapter. BC THAT ONE HAS AN IN CHAPTER ART.

9:56: and we are at 55.1k. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES IS BEING WRITTEN AND THE BEGINNING IS HAUNTING. GOD BLESS.

12:15 haven't gotten much done but I'm playing around with Kevin and Red's dynamic in my head ever so slightly but also I wish I could actually animate bc y'all don't know how bad I wanna make a 'they both reached for the gun' edit with Leslie and Craig and Tweek as the gun LMFAOOOOOOOO

4:24 holy shit guys I just broke 60k. I'm working on 19. I have to go back and tinker with a flashback and write a single paragraph back in 17 because I took it out of 18, but THAT'S IT!!!! Oh my god, I hate it here. Things are getting good, and by good, I mean interesting, but also really fucking bad. This hurts. GOODBYE.

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clatoera · 9 months ago

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Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 6: Not trying to fall in love but we did like children running

Hi my loves! So. I absolutely hate this chapter. I hate it. I think it's because I liked last chapter SO much and it was so important and this feels so...bleh. Idk. BUT I wanted to post something today for two reasons

It is exactly one year since I posted ARWBFB! Happy birthday ARWBFB, how far we have come! I wanted to go back to the OG roots with this chapter in honor of that, and do something that is just so quintessential Cato and Clove and thats what this is supposed to be!

This is the last chapter for about 2-3 weeks! I have a really stressful couple of weeks ahead where I find out if I have a job or not and will simply be too anxious to write in the mean time! So this is a little Clato-centric treat to hold us all over until I get back to writing in a couple of weeks!

Title from The Very First Night (taylor swift of course)

AO3

Masterpost

As always thank you to the besties who get me through. I quite literally hate this chapter and i'm not happy with it but I put it into the world anyway and it's for y'all. @bodyelectric77 as always, thanks for putting up with my pouting in the DMs. @kentwells I hope this satisfies your cries for Clato content. @ohhowwehavefallen you just get tagged at this point even if you don't want to be sorry not sorry.

Okay! Here we go. Happy birthday ARWBFB you will always be famous to me.

“Why are you all excited?” Clove teases, reaching her arms above her head so she can tighten her smooth ponytail, swatting his hand away as he goes to flick the ends down into her face. “You act like we’ve never done this before.”

“Clove, it's been literal years since we’ve got to do this. We were teenagers.” Cato slides his fingers under the strap of her sports bra and snaps it against her shoulder, something that years ago he learned would make her jump and give the cutest little scowl. When they were fifteen it was accompanied by a knife whirling past his head, but today it was met with a sharp fingernail jabbing his ribs in the same place she stabbed the day they met. “Besides…don’t you remember Enobaria telling us she was never letting us step foot in this new training center? What did she say we were going to do to it? Defer it?”

“Defile it.” Clove corrects, smiling just a little to herself at his enthusiasm. Yeah, maybe it was not the kind of training they had grown up with, but Cato’s excitement was borderline contagious. And yeah…maybe she was a little excited too. She had plenty of pent up aggression with no outlet other than a steak knife and a tree in the back yard these days. “This isn’t training like we’re used to, you know. These aren’t special kids like we were.”

They clearly were not the first choice to take this class, gathered by the disgruntled and last minute request of Brutus earlier this same morning. Apparently the usual teacher canceled earlier this week, but Enobaria had been distracted by some sort of Cashmere related crisis (and if they understood from her vague but uncharacteristically flustered call, it was a Cashmere-Finnick-Glimmer kind of crisis and no one could blame her for her properly placed priorities) and she forgot to find a cover. It was a very hesitant Brutus who offered them the afternoon class followed with the promise of free reign of the athletic facilities afterward to do with as they pleased.

“I haven’t even worked out like that in forever..” Clove continues her internal thoughts out loud, speeding her steps up just a little to keep in time with Cato’s much longer strides. “I can run, yeah, but I don’t even know if I could still do like..a pull up.”

“You’re still pretty flexible, at least.” Cato easily wraps both hands around her waist, before flipping her over his shoulder and tossing her just slightly into the air before she lands back in his hands. The way she kicks at him to put her down is not foreign, and his arms are long since trained to hold her steady despite her flailing tantrums. “And lightweight.”

“Cato, put me down!” Clove demands through gritted teeth, staring indignantly at the ground behind him. She wants to beat her fists against his shoulder and his spine, but experience has taught her that is no use. She is at his will until he decides otherwise.

“Ask nicely…” He taunts her, and she feels a firm squeeze at the top of her right thigh, causing her to squirm in his arms yet again. It is after this that he sets her down, but she realizes when her feet hit pavement rather than grass that it is not because of her own indignity.

The building is not on the remains of what was once their academic and educational home, but rather a much smaller, independent center. It’s much nearer the school where Cato’s mother teaches rather than a pillar of status in the center of the district. It’s no grand home of future victors with the best weaponry district money can buy. No…it’s just a building with a couple of sports fields and some sort of indoor recreational area.

In short, it’s the kind of place Cato and Clove would have seen as the loser training center, back in their childhood.

He slips his littler hand into his, and gives her hand the littlest squeeze of confidence, before be absolutely pulls her inside, betraying even more interest than he had let on in their walk here.

Even as they enter through the double glass doors, they simultaneously notice that it’s so incredibly different than the type of athletic training they had been exposed to in their youth.

There’s about twenty four shoe cubbies on the wall underneath a coordinated number of hooks, all littered with various little child-sized rain coats and backpacks. There are windows all around the top of the room, pouring in natural light, that are open just enough to allow the air that hints of spring to filter in as a refreshing reminder of the impending warm weather and longer days.

It’s such a staunch difference from what they grew up with. Now, the only way Cato can think to describe the center of their youth is dungeon like; no windows, fluorescent lights that fucked with the circadian rhythm of their adolescent bodies. Treating time outside and fresh air as a reward was probably some psychological trick to keep them hyped and excited for the games– arenas were almost always outdoors.

On the other wall is a simple wooden desk, a stack of manilla folders, and an old pre-war desktop computer that had likely been repurposed from one of the many destroyed buildings in their district. There was a woman sitting behind the desk, with simple dark hair and matching eyes, typing absently as she inputs something into what they assume is an online system.

She looks up with disinterest, a monotonous voice welcoming them to the center. However, she must recognize them after a few moments of her typical spiel, because her head peaks up a little straighter. “Cato? Clove? I didn’t know you two were the replacements today?”

Clove recognizes her as a girl who was probably three or four years older than her, Selene if she remembers correctly. She had never even been a top three contender for the games; even if she had who would she have been killed by? Marvel? Annie? Johanna?

Funny, Clove thinks to herself, that she does not see this girl as someone who would have been a victor, but someone who would have fallen to one of her now friends.

“It was sort of a last minute thing, we didn’t expect to be.” Cato answers cordially, though the tilt in his voice told Clove he was trying to place this girl. “Selena, right? What are you doing here?”

“Selene.” The woman answers cooly, continuing the loud clicking of her nails against the keyboard.

Clove resists an eye roll at the evident offense she’s taken to Cato’s lack of recall of her exact name. Clove was called Clover for half her childhood– suck it the fuck up.

“I bring my son here,” Selene clips, slamming the keys a little aggressively, possibly more offended than she let on. “The quarry his dad worked in was one of the many destroyed in the war, taking him with it. I needed a job. The hours were good. Enobaria remembered me from back in the academy, she took pity on me.”

“You have a kid?” Clove asks, mouth risking falling open in disbelief. In her head they were still children, even if she had been older than Clove herself it was hard to believe she was old enough to have a whole child.

Cato raises an eyebrow, and something falls into place for him as to who this girl is even if he is sure not to betray that out loud. “I’m sorry..about his dad.”

“That's what happens to the rest of us, Clove, when we didn’t get to go to the games. We had to get jobs and go about our lives.” Selene responds politely, but the way her eyes flick to the clock behind them reveals she is trying to get out of this conversation as quickly as she can. “Thank you, Cato, He’s in the same class as your sister, I think. Oh look, there he comes now–”

A dinging bell, far less alarming than the whistle that used to be blown at them, signals what they can only explain as the end of the class, and children begin to pour out as parents begin to pour in from the outside.

Cato and Clove are relieved from the conversation when someone slams into Cato from the side, and Clove only has to slightly lower her gaze to see Cora clinging to his leg.

“Hey kiddo,” Cato immediately melts, his demeanor completely shifting as he pulls his sister onto his hip. “I didn’t know you were coming here today?” “Are we teaching your class?” Clove grins, suddenly a lot more enthusiastic at the thought of teaching when it came to Cora being involved.

“No, she actually just finished up. We come here twice a week.” Cato’s mom joins them, rubbing her son’s arm affectionately before she hands Cora her backpack. “You must have the baby class.”

The enthusiasm Clove just felt falls as fast as her facial expression, and her eyes go as wide as dinner plates at the thought. “What do you mean baby class? I thought we’d have teenagers. Or kids like..our age.”

“You aren’t kids anymore, my dear.” Clove’s mother in law reminds her with amusement in her tone, taking her daughter from her son. “The baby class is right after Cora’s. They’re all five and under. You mean no one told you what class you were covering?”

The hesitance in Brutus’ voice makes so much more sense now– of course no one wanted them responsible for babies. Okay, kids, but really really little kids.

“...Brutus just said we could have the space when the class ended.” Clove grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches parents of even younger children begin to drop them off by the door.

“At least it’s only a twenty minute class.” Cato’s mother tries, but firmly takes Cora’s hand. There's an smug amusement in her voice that she does not even bother covering, “Tell Cato and Clove you’ll see them tomorrow for dinner, Cora. They have a class to teach.”

“Byyyye,” Cora whines, and as she starts to head out with her mother, she whips her head back around to lock eyes with Clove. “Will you pleeeeeease take me to see Glimmer and the babies soon? You promised we could see them!”

“Soon, Cora. Soon.” Clove assured, giving her a little wave on the way out. Cora had demanded pictures of the twins every single time she had seen Clove in the couple of weeks since their birth, and practically begged to see them. Glimmer had been fine with it, and insisted it was okay to bring her during one of their many weekly trips to District One. Clove however couldn’t help but hesitate– weren’t school aged kids kind of gross to be around such new babies?

“...Twenty minutes, Clove. We can do anything for Twenty minutes.” Cato tries, but there's a unsure edge in his voice that does not comfort Clove. If either of them were going to be comfortable with kids it would have been Cato– his hesitance was doing nothing to ensure Clove this was going to go well.

As they brace themselves, slowly entering the general gymnasium area, Cato nudges Clove with his shoulder. “I finally realize where I can recognize Selene from.”

“Yeah, she was a couple years older than us in training–”

“No, no, not that. She was hooking up with my roommate when we were fifteen.”

“Delightful.” Clove responds, but the smirk on Cato’s face falls when he looks up and realizes it was not a response to his epiphany at all.

At some point the room had filled with about ten kindergarten aged kids, who were in various positions from sitting criss-cross to face down on the floor. The one that lies face down on the floor lets out a high pitched cry completely unprovoked, and Clove looks around in what can only be described as horror.

“What the hell were we thinking?” Clove hisses, low enough that none of the kids even looked over at her. She suppresses a gag as one of the little boys stuck his finger fearlessly down the throat of another, before the receiving boy chomps down on his invading fingers and he too joins his comrade in wailing. “Can these kids even tie their own shoes?”

As if the universe heard her question, one of the girls trips directly over her untied shoelaces and falls directly onto one of the other kids.

“This is a nightmare.” Clove grabs Cato’s arm, pulling him down towards her height. “What the hell do we do with these kids?”

“...do you think we pair them up?” Cato half-suggests half-asks, quickly counting them up. “There's five boys and five girls, could we pair them?” “And do what? Teach them to wrestle?” Clove snaps, but she has nothing better to offer. “Fine. Whatever. Maybe we make them warm up first?”

“Hey..hey…hey!” Cato tries three times before his booming voice earns ten little shocked pairs of eyes staring up at him open mouthed and wide, more than likely never having been yelled at by such a large man before. “Do you kids want to run a lap or something to warm up?” Cato suggests, trying to move on quickly before he scares them to the verge of tears.

A little arm shoots up from the same little girl who tripped over her shoes only seconds prior. Clove nods in her direction, but she continues to speak before Clove actually gets a chance to acknowledge her verbally. “What-sa lap?”

Clove stares, quite frankly a little dumbfounded. She was asking Enobaira to teach her to throw knives at this age– and these kids don’t know what a lap is? “A lap is when you run around the room in a circle.. You know what? Cato can show you.” She shoots him a smug smile, crossing her arm over her chest before using the other to gesture to the open gymnasium space. “Go ahead Cato!”

Cato can only glare at his wife, before he takes off in a half hearted jog around the room. Clove’s smug grin does not fall from her face until he returns in front of them, these kids still staring blankly up at them both.

Cato gestures to the open room again, gesturing down to the group of kindergarteners. “Okay..your turn.”

They are met with wide eyes and confused faces, and Clove and Cato exchange another look of confusion. “Are they dumb?” Clove whispers, and Cato responds with a light shrug before his arms cross over his chest.

“You guys can run..” Clove explains again, speaking much slower this time as if that will help betray her meaning to the group. “Run…”

The same little girl as before raises her hand again, and as before she speaks before she is even acknowledged. “My shoes are untied.”

“Me too!”

A chorus of “me toos” seems to come from the entire group of children, all who stick their feet out expectantly.

“Oh. And you don’t like..know how to fix that?” Clove questions, raising a dark eyebrow almost in disbelief. Did parents teach anything these days? “Why don’t you all just…take them off. Yeah. Take off your shoes and run like that!”

There’s a general mix of confusion from the children, but that is overpowered by the excitement of feeling like they are breaking rules as they all take off their little shoes and throw them casually to the side.

One by one they take off running, little legs not carrying them very fast around the full sized gym.

“They don’t go very fast do they?” Clove mumbles, rubbing her hand over the length of her face. “This should take up the next ten minutes at least. Then we only have to fill ten more.”

“Yeah! You have legs that size too and you don’t use it as an excuse–” Cato earns a sharp poke in his side for that one, but it does not take the smile off his face.

Every couple of steps one of the kids wipes out, the combination of socks and waxed floor no match for their underdeveloped muscle coordination. As a fourth thud is heard, Cato shakes his head in disbelief. “These really are the loser kids.”

“District Two doesn’t make ‘em like us anymore.” Clove agrees, watching the clock tick by as one by one the group of kids returns in front of them, thoroughly out of breath as some of them lay down on the floor. “How was that!”

“I want to go home!”

“Yeah, I want to go home too.” Clove whispers only for Cato to hear before she claps her hands in front of her. “Okaaaay. We are going to pair you up. Every boy is going to be with a girl-”

“Ewww girls!” Comes from one bratty little boy, who stomps his feet in a way that irritates Clove so deeply she wants to rip out her own hair.

“You won’t always say that.” Cato assures, and continues trying to make little tiny pairs of boys and girls, who immediately are separating. Some throw themselves to the ground, some cling to their friends. Either way it is not going well.

“I don’t want to be with a boy! Boys have cooties!” Another girl whines in protest, her little braids bouncing as she shakes her head back and forth.

“That will change… That will change.” Clove murmurs to herself again, before putting her hands up in defeat. “What happened to discipline! And honor! And skill!” She asks in Cato’s general direction, gesturing out in front of them. “Who is raising kids like this!”

“Our ex-classmates, apparently.” Cato retorts, but finally waves his hand to silence the room. “Fine. You have ten minutes left. Just. I don’t know, play or something? Don’t kill each other.”

“Even that, we would have been encouraged to kill each other, Cato. We TRIED to!” Clove watches as the kids generally disperse into the open space. “This is unbelievable.”

“We better make sure Cora isn’t like this. And we are not letting Glimmer and Marvel raise losers either.” Cato insists, rubbing a tired hand over his face as the room is filled with the sound of kids just playing. “Actually they may be a lost cause, Marvel was a fluke victor.”

Clove snorts back a laugh, digging through the bin of various sized balls and other semi-athletic equipment used by the other classes. There was nothing knife-like nor sword-like in sight. She settles on a tennis ball, tossing it lightly up and down in her hand, testing the weight of it.

Without warning she launches it at a target on the wall, and the sound of it smacking off the concrete brings the room silent for almost a moment. Clove ignores the ache that ebbs in her shoulder at the force, and goes back to find another of the same projectiles. “These aren’t even weighted properly.”

“You’re just that good.” Cato promises, wrapping his arms around her waist and letting his hands linger on the exposed skin of her abdomen a little longer. “I thought we were actually going to get to do something cool.”

“I thought I'd get to watch you take a cocky teenage boy down. I love when you put them in their place.” Clove teases, before she goes back to digging for a couple more appropriately sized tennis balls for her to throw. When she turns back Cato is no longer directly beside her, but has migrated to the mounted bar against the wall. She watches the muscles in his back and shoulders flex as he effortlessly pulls himself up and down in rep after rep of pull ups as if they were nothing. And for Cato? They absolutely were.

She stares at him for a few moments, and even though he’s mostly minding his business, Clove knows him too well. He’s absolutely showing off, and wordlessly challenging her to do the same (and it helps knowing that she most definitely is staring a little too long at his arms as he does so).

Cato knows his display paid off when the sound of rubber on the wall hits round after round around his head as Clove continues to never miss a target. “I miss knives.” She remarks with loud annoyance as the final ball hits the wall, and when Cato opens his mouth to respond he realizes there is an eerie quiet in the room of children.

He lets go of the bar, feet hitting the floor with agility, and when he turns around he notices ten pairs of eyes absolutely locked in on the two of them and their display of athletic dominance.

“Clove…” Cato says calmly, taking a few steps towards her as she gathers ammunition for another round of throws.

“What, you wanna show some actual skills other than flexing your arms-”

“Turn around.”

Clove furrows her eyebrows in confusion but does as he asks, trusting him more than she questions his motive. A sly smile creeps on her face as she sees the awed expressions of the kids they were supposed to be teaching, not ignoring, for the last ten minutes. “I think they’re impressed.. Nothing new. Who isn’t?” Clove begins, before she is cut off by the overly charming alarm that signaled class already being over.

“That was actually pretty easy.” Cato announces, as the barefoot kids quickly run to meet the waiting arms of their rightfully confused parents.

Not too long later, once the building is mostly empty save for the two of them, they sit side by side against the wall.

Cato audibly sighs, stretching his legs out in front of him as his arm drapes over her shoulders. She didn’t need to say it, but he could tell from the way she leaned into him that she was feeling a little bit of an ache from the overuse this afternoon.

“I didn’t think that would be so exhausting. I’m starving.” Cato admits, running his free hand over the side of his face.

Clove laughs, burying her face into his neck as she lets out a sigh of agreement. They didn’t even do that much. Just something about the whole situation; from the unathletic kids, to the whining, to the over competitive nature that their relationship would just never outgrow. “I think I have half a granola bar in my coat pocket. It’s no peanut butter and jelly sandwich but-”

“Damn, I was really hoping you’d peel all the white shit off a pomegranate with a knife for me like old times.”

“You don’t even like pomegranates that much.”

“Yeah, but you’re pretty hot with a knife.”

#arwbfb tag #clato #cato and clove #clato fanfic #arwbfb au #picket fence is sharp as knives tag #always remember we're burned for better tag #clove thg #cato thg

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