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reiderwriter · 7 months ago

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Hello!I hope you are having a great day!I love LOVE your writing and I would like to request a fanfiction where the reader is Hotch's daughter who works at the bau and is in a secret relationship with spencer without her dad knowing.Spencer wants to tell the team but she is scared about how they'll react so they fight but during a case she gets kidnapped and the feelings are high,so spencer accidentally reveals the relationship.I would love if it ended in smut (possibly dom!spencer who is angry at her for being so reckless and risking her life like that) and maybe a lot of angst??Hotch could potentially be fuming but when they get her back he decides that he will let them be??I would like my emoji to be 🌼!Thank you in advance and if you write this I would absolutely LOVE to read it!🤍🤍

A/N: I love writing for a Hotchner Reader because the Hotch/Spencer parallels are so 😙👌 This was so fun to write!

Warnings: Smut/ Angst with a happy ending, Semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, case details, kidnapping, abuse, strangulation, mentions of child death/ allusions towards pedophilia etc, Hotch is a somewhat shitty/overprotective dad/boss.

Masterlist!

Falling back into a hotel bed that wasn't yours, you wrapped your legs around Spencer Reid as he furiously worked open the buttons of your shirt, his lips locked with yours in a furious exchange.

“Spencer, Spencer, we can't-” You moaned as his lips fell down to your ear, a small tap to your thigh signalling that he wanted tour legs spread for him. Despite your vocal protests, you complied.

“Need to feel you,” he groaned, nipping and sucking his way down your chest as his big hands began pushing your skirt up and your panties down.

“Spencer, someone will hear.”

“I don't care who hears,” he whispered, finally ridding you of the last piece of material covering your wet sex. “I just want to make you feel good.”

His lips fell to your cunt, falling on your cunt as he began his ministrations. You loved this, the feeling of him near, his lips on you, his tongue teasing out whimper, then moan, then a scream of his name as you came undone on his lips. But that wasn't a chance you could take today.

“He's in the next room, Spencer. Fuck, he's going to hear us.”

You wouldn't push him off, enjoying too much the feeling of your building pleasure, so appealing to your boyfriend to do the right thing was your last resort as your hips bucked into his face, chasing your orgasm.

He didn't stop, but held your hips down, thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his fingers came up to tease your clit.

“Spencer, fuck-” you slapped a hand over your mouth as you shuddered below him, finally reaching your climax.

Your hands fell limp as he worked you through the end of your orgasm before rising up to lay beside you on the bed.

“I wish you wouldn't push it, Spencer. You're a dead man if he catches us like this.”

“Hotch won't kill me just because I'm dating his daughter. I don't understand why you don't want to tell people.”

You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. It was a conversation you'd been back and forward on a lot in the past six months.

Dating a coworker was tricky, doubly so when your coworker’s boss - and your boss - was your overprotective father. Things only became more complicated when you factored in a ten year age gap and the fact that your father refused to view you as an adult, even when you were a fully qualified member of his own team.

You'd had to fight for acceptance into the FBI and go above him to get the job on his team, a decision that he still berated you for to this day. But you'd had enough of him shielding you from reality, and it was a step you needed to take.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid, though, that was just pure bad luck.

You weren't sure how it had taken you until joining the team to meet the man, but you sure were glad he hadn't been introduced earlier. You'd joined the team at 24, having been in grad school until your FBI Academy application was approved, and somehow in the 10 years before that Spencer had worked under your father, you'd never crossed paths.

Of course, you knew who he was before that from context and conversations with your father, and of course, he figured out who you were quickly based on the many arguments you'd had in Hotch’s office. But that hadn't stopped you from repeatedly falling into his bed month after month, and then falling in love with him.

Your relationship was more than the sex, but it was also a lot of sex. From the stories you'd heard, and from the look of him, you'd assumed that Spencer was a delicate little flower, an innocent in the bedroom as much as any 34 year old man could be.

And then you'd both been offered spiked drinks at a holiday party courtesy of Penelope Garcia, and he'd proved you deliriously wrong. He'd been hooked from then on, and after waking up awkwardly in his bed the next morning to two cups of coffee and a spread of breakfast pastries he'd gone out to specifically pick up for you, you'd been hooked on him as well.

The only problem was Hotch.

You certainly weren't winning any daughter of the year awards already with the stunt you pulled to get on the BAU, but you didn't want to be completely and totally disowned just yet.

“Hotch won't kill you for dating his daughter, you're right,” you mumbled back to Spencer rolling yourself back on top of him and pinning his arms down so his fingers couldn't tease you any further.

“Thank you, now if you trust me, I've ran like four different scenarios in my head so-”

“He'd definitely fire us both, though. And that's worse than death.”

“Y/N….”

“Tell me I'm wrong, please. Back up your findings with empirical evidence. He doesn't want me on the team, Spencer. He doesn't even want me in the FBI. I think he'd be happy enough to ship me out of the country, too, if that helped.”

Spencer sighed and tugged your hair behind your ear as he gestured for you to sit up.

“I know it's scary. But I love you. I don't care about the consequences because I'll still love you before and after telling him.”

“And during?”

“I might freak out a bit, but deep down, the love will be there still.”

You hit him with a pillow and climbed off the bed.

“Okay, get out now. I'll think about it but you really can't stay here tonight.” He nodded, grabbing his things and pulling his clothes back into place.

“So, like we're totally done for tonight? Nothing else.”

“Spencer! Out!” You whisper-shouted the words and watched him turn your door handle as slowly as possible before he waved his goodbye and left your room.

12 hours later, you were once again getting frustrated with Spencer Reid. And Aaron Hotchner. They may soon be enemies, but goddamn they were perfect for each other in some ways.

“Hotch, you can't just give me nothing to do. Send me to the morgue with Rossi, or let me interview family members with Tara. I'm a member of this team, too, so let me do my job.”

“You'll do well to remember that I'm your boss, Y/N.”

“You're acting more like my dad right now. A boss would utilize his team members.”

You'd been stuck in this stale mate since the morning, and Reid hadn't helped at all. When giving out assignments that morning, you'd not been notably left out of crime scene investigation, suspect interrogation, and anything helpful. Reid usually asked for your assistance at times like these, but he was finally putting his money where his mouth was and keeping distance from you in the office.

So far, you'd ran coffees back and forth between the kitchen and work room and had been communicating back and forth with JJ and Derek in the field and Garcia back at Quantico.

You'd been, for lack of better comparison, relegated to receptionist.

“At least let me work on the geographical profile with Reid-”

“Absolutely not.”

You stiffened at the reaction, wondering just exactly why he would react so strongly. Spencer had snuck in a few secret kisses here and there this morning, though you'd been sure that you'd had no witnesses.

“Why not?”

“I don't want you to distract him.”

Bile settled in the back of your throat as you tried your best to bite your tongue and keep the bitter words in.

“You know, sometimes, Dad, it feels like you love everyone on this team more than you love me.”

He locked eyes with you quickly, but he glance was dismissive and stern, almost as if he was asking you ‘seriously.’

You turned on your heels and began to walk out before he called out from behind you again.

“Y/N,” you stopped despite yourself.

“Leave the gun and badge on the desk. We'll discuss this after the case is closed.”

You almost laughed. You almost blurted out your relationship with Spencer just to spite him. You followed his order and took yourself out of the office for some fresh air, finally giving him what he wanted.

An hour of aimlessly wandering down the street, and you turned into a run-down park. 16 missed calls from Spencer and other members of the team, who'd no doubt watched you turn in your badge.

Garcia had even called a few times, and you felt guilty for not forwarding her calls somewhere else, knowing she'd probably have key case information for someone.

But you just couldn't handle it anymore, so you switched it off, pushed it back into your pocket, and kept walking.

It was two more blocks before the man following you pushed a soaked rag over your mouth and nose and pushed your unconscious body into the back of a waiting van.

×××××

Two hours of near constant complaining to Hotch had gotten Spencer nowhere in his demands to know just where you went.

He'd called you 36 times since Hotch had told him you'd left, and he hadn't stopped freaking out since.

“But where did she go?”

“I sent her back to the motel.”

“All of our cars, bar the one JJ and Morgan took to the crime scene, are outside and accounted for. The motel is a 34-minute drive away. It'll take her 5 hours on foot through our unsubs hunting grounds, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she matches the victim profile we just gave. Where is she?”

A muscle in Hotch's jaw twitched, but neither of them moved, eyes locked in battle to see who would back down first.

A call from Penelope ended whatever disaster was storming between them.

“Hotch hey, I can't get in contact with mini-Hotch, so here I am. Morgan called earlier from the crime scene. From the way they're posed, he said they could be possible stand-ins for a lost child a daughter or a sister, so I cross checked the ownership of the vehicles that run with the tires we found prints of at the scene, and I got a name. Like one.”

“Great work, Penelope, send it over.”

Hotch dropped the call and looked back up at Spencer, readying himself to give orders and push the issue.

Again, their standoff was interrupted.

“Hotch,” JJ rushed in, carrying a radio dispatcher, face white, and filled with worry. “You need to hear this.”

“Witness reported an abduction on East and 7th, patrol surveyed the scene and found a cellphone. Identifying information suggests it belongs to a Y/N Hotchner. We're bringing it into the stat-”

Hotch stood so fast his chair almost crashed to the floor. He stood so fast that he barely had time to dodge the lunge Spencer took in his direction, fist pulled back. It would connect, given the chance he knew it would. He'd been the one to teach Spencer to throw a punch in the first place.

Morgan insinuated himself between the two men before, and blood could be shed, quickly pulling Spencer back as Rossi, too, rushed into the room to diffuse the situation.

“One hour. I've been asking you for one hour where she went, and you wouldn't answer me. You made her leave her gun behind.”

It wasn't exactly a shout, but there was something broken in his voice, as of his mouth had filled with blood and he could only spit hate at a man who'd been a mentor to him until seconds before.

“If she's hurt- fuck, if even a hair on her head is out of place, I'll-”

“What, Spencer? What will you do? She's my daughter. What could you do that-”

“She's my girlfriend! She's my girlfriend, she's the love of my life. God, I want to marry her, I have the ring, I have the proposal planned, all that was left was telling you and then asking her, but you've been such a dick to her about this job, and about cases, and God knows what else, that she doesn't want to say anything to you, and now you've driven her away and she's fucking gone. And she could be hurt or in danger or d-de…”

He crumpled to the floor, Morgan still holding him as his legs gave way beneath him.

Nobody moved for what felt like hours, still in their grief, shock, some just nervous to see what would happen next.

“You've been in this situation before, Hotch. So have I. It's …. It hasn't ended well for us before.”

The words were so final, so defeated that they sucked the air out of the room.

“Morgan,” Hotch started quietly, eyes still locked with Reid's, still staring down the reflection of his own despair.

“Get Garcia back on the line, I want confirmation that the vehicle that picked Y/N up is the same one that our unsub has been using to set up crime scenes. See if she can lift a name and an address. Rossi, if he's skilled enough to pick up an FBI Agent unaware, we need a SWAT team, get one on standby.”

Slowly growing in volume, he continued, as the room started moving at his signal.

“JJ, Tara, take over where Reid left off with the geographical profile. Look at Y/N's last known location and how far a car could've gotten in the last 24 minutes.”

He paused again, staring Reid down.

“Reid, you're with me.”

xxxxx

It took you a few seconds to gain a sense of your surroundings when you came to. Partially because of the drug induced migraine splitting your head, and partially because of the mess of ribbons and stuffed toys you'd woken up in.

A change of clothes, and hands tied to what seemed to be a children's bed and you felt so grossly vulnerable your body shook with a few harsh sobs before you regained your composure and remembered your training.

The knots on the rope holding your hands were tight. There wasn't much room to move with them pinned above your head, but you recognised them as naval knots. Your unsub had experience at sea, recreational or professional you'd yet to determine.

Looking around again, you looked for entries and exits, wanting to know how the unsub would come in again and how you could get out.

There were no windows, but a set of stairs leading up towards a solid door told you that you'd been locked inside a basement. A basement decorated similarly to a child's bedroom.

Dimly lit by a mass of fairy lights, the room seemed covered head to toe in teddy bears, dolls, and children's books, a sturdy handmade doll’s house standing in the corner of the room.

Faintly, you heard the creaking of floorboards above you before the handle of the basement door rattled and more light poured in.

“I bought you breakfast, cupcake.”

There was no time to feign unconsciousness again as your captor finally came into view.

He was older than middle-aged, slightly wider around the midsection than you assumed he'd been in his youth. His hair was closely cropped and laid neatly, leading you to suspect he was former military.

“Oh, good, you're awake. What do you want to do today, cupcake? Daddy has some time off now, I can play with you all you want.”

You moved slowly, pushing yourself up to a seated position so you could bend your arms a bit. But you didn't look away, needing to keep him in your line of sight the entire time.

“Where am I?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Wow, you must've had a deep sleep cupcake. You're in your bedroom, silly!”

The man's sprightly tone was disconcerting, and you could see a muscle in his forehead twitch slightly as you spoke.

“O-of course. My mistake. Maybe I'm just still tired.”

He laid the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to you. You tried your best not to shy from his touch as he stroked your hair, but every muscle in your body tensed and pulled from him reflexively.

A quick glance to the tray and you saw the food he'd brought you was a small cup of pills and a glass of water to rinse them down with.

If he noticed your flinch, he said nothing, grabbing a hairbrush from the nightstand and beginning to comb through your hair slowly and deliberately, taking care like one would a daughter.

“Daddy,” you took a chance, recalling the name he'd given himself earlier. “Can we play outside today? I want to go to the park.”

He stopped moving, and you held your breath as his smile dropped.

“No, sweetie. You know we don't go to parks.”

“Why not? I really want to play there, Daddy, please!”

In seconds, his hands wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back down into the bed, holding you there with his tight, suffocating grip.

“Shut the fuck up you little slut. I said we don't go to parks, you listen. I am your father, you are not being taken by one of those sick freaks again.”

He released you as quick as he grabbed you and stood up, pacing as he attempted to regain composure.

“You can draw or we can have a tea party but you know we can't go out. You know that cupcake, I've told you so many times.”

He grabbed at his hair, pulling it from its carefully styled arrangement into a mess, his fingers leaving red marks against his white skin as he pushed and pulled his head.

He breathed deeply, and you sat up, trying to regain your composure as you watched him lose his.

“What was her name?” You whispered, half hoping he would hear you, half praying that he'd ignore you for the sake of his fantasy.

“W-What?”

“Your daughter. What was her name?”

He focused on you again, but his hands - hands that you knew could and would choke the life out of you if you did something wrong again - his hands were shaking.

You heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and decided to push your questioning, hoping it meant what you thought it did.

“Why are you saying it like that, ‘was?’ Is. Her name is, your name is Laura, and you're my little cupcake.”

“What happened to her?” You filled your voice with as much sympathy and understanding as you could muster, one eye on the basement door that was being slowly pushed open. One look at Morgan at the top of the stairs had your heart rate slowing to a calmer speed. You locked eyes with him for a second, halting him, and he nodded, waiting for your signal.

“You, you're my cupcake, you look just like… She should look just like you.”

The man sat on the bed again, stroking a hair out of your eye as his filled with tears.

“Fifteen years. I looked for her for fifteen years, you know. If I hadn't taken her to that park-”

“That must have been hard.”

He nodded as he broke down in silent sobs.

“They said… they said she probably died a day or two after we lost her. When they found her, she was…” he rested his head on your shoulder, let him cling to you as he mourned his daughter.

“We couldn't identify her, but she had that teddy with her. The teddy with the cupcake in its hands. She never went anywhere without it. So we…we knew.

You looked at Morgan as he slowly made his descent into the room, closely followed by JJ.

The man looked up into your eyes again, wiping the tears from his face.

“She was only 8.” He looked defeated, and your heart broke for him, even as you wished to get as far away from him as you could physically muster.

Morgan pulled him up and away from you as he secured the man with handcuffs, but his eyes remained locked on you.

JJ untied you and guided you out, but you felt his gaze bite into you ever after you'd left the basement.

As soon as you were above ground, you let your body divest itself of adrenaline, your legs buckling as JJ tried to catch you. Another set of arms was quicker, though, and you didn't even register Spencer's arrival before burying your head in his chest and letting your sobs escape you.

He guided you to your feet and walked you out to the ambulance, his arms protectively wrapped around you, his lips peppering kisses along your hairline and forehead, anywhere he could reach. In moments, you were bundled into the ambulance, and three gentle voices were trying to calm you, to pry you away from your comfort doll.

You wondered if you'd die like the unsubs daughter had, if they'd find you clinging to Spencer the way she had to her teddy bear.

“Y/N,” your father's deep voice was clear and smooth, the only thing that was cutting through the wretched moment of pain you were enduring.

You remembered yourself again, relinquishing your grip on Spencer and wiping the tears from your face as you finally looked towards Aaron Hotchner.

The paramedics took their chance and began checking your vitals, working around you in a hurry.

“Dad, I'm sorry, I was walking and didn't notice that he was behind me, I should've been more careful-”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You're okay now.”

You nodded as he came closer. You ignored the tears in his eyes, trying not to break down again. It had been an age since you'd last witnessed him cry, at another crime scene with another family member and another unsub. You couldn't think about how close you'd come to making him relive his worst nightmare.

Spencer's hand was still firm in yours, and you held it like a lifeline, though you were sure your nails had to be cutting him by now. It took another moment to register that he was holding onto you just as hard, that he was unmoving, still where he was usually a series of compulsive moments, tapping, hand wringing, fists clenching and releasing.

You glanced between the men, who had now become quiet as they surveyed you, and noticed the tension. Before you could say anything, though, the paramedics took over.

“We're going to get you to the hospital now, Agent, one coworker can accompany you in the vehicle, preferably one with knowledge of your medical history.”

Both men immediately moved forward again, as if ready to jump into the van, before turning again to each other.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself just as the buzzing in your head from the migraine grew louder.

“Y/N, it's your choice. Who do you want to come?” Spencer said gently, his body still stiff with worry.

“I'm her father. This isn't a question of who she likes better.”

“I have her medical records memorized, and I have more knowledge about the drugs the unsub gave her, but Y/N can choose for herself because she is a grown woman.”

You sighed and dropped the man's hand as the medics ushered you into the van fully, but the men were fully absorbed in their fight for dominance that they barely registered it.

“JJ. JJ is coming with me,” You could see both of them turn back to you to argue, but you continued before they could. “Because I am a grown adult who knows her own medical history, and I don't need my father and my… coworker having territory wars over my wellbeing.”

And possibly because she'd be the least awkward option to answer the questions about sexual activity and possibility of pregnancy around, but you really did not need to vocalize that.

“Right now, I'm just a victim you've saved. Go and do your jobs and meet me at the hospital later because I am not doing overtime completing paperwork while on suspension.”

JJ climbed up into the ambulance and the doors shut, letting you finally get a few moments peace as it began slowly making its way to whatever hospital was closest.

“He knows, right?” You asked, covering your eyes with your hands as you braved for the answer.

“Hotch? You could say that he figured it out.”

“That bad?”

“Spencer threw a punch at him. He tried to at least.”

“What?!” Your body shot up, but the paramedic gently forced you back into a laid position, giving you a warning look to stay put as she checked your blood pressure.

“Don't be too hard on him, Y/N. He thought he was going to lose you. They both did. I don't think either of them would survive it happening again.”

The guilt hit you right in the chest as you nodded and dropped the conversation.

“Maybe I should've let Spencer come with me.”

“Why?” JJ asked, not offended bit curious.

“Because I'm not entirely sure my father won't throw that punch back at him now he knows I'm okay. It's hard being in a relationship if one of you is dead.”

The older woman chuckled slightly, and you settled back down, letting the car movements rock you into sleep.

xxxxx

A few hours later and some quietly bickering voices pulled you from the rest you'd so sorely needed. Without even opening your eyes, you knew they'd both subtly scrambled to your bed to make sure you were comfortable.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, wiping your eyes carefully as you tried to sit up, arms still aching from being tied up.

“Oh shit-” you exclaimed after seeing your boyfriends freshly split lip.

“Dad, what the fuck?”

“Y/N, it's fine. It doesn't hurt.”

“Aaron Hotchner, do you have nothing to say for yourself?” You tried to put all of tour anger into the words as you said them, bit he looked at you again with his straight face, and you crumpled under the pressure.

“I won't…I'm not going to object. I just ask you to keep your private life separate from your work.”

“And you're going to punch my boyfriend while I'm unconscious, so I can't defend him.”

“I'm still your father, and he deserved it.”

You looked back over to Spencer, who was quite notably not meeting your eyes.

“Do I want to know?”

“I'm leaving now. Jack will be here soon. He wants to check on you now that school is over. We told him you were hurt trying to save a sick man.”

“Thank you, dad.”

He nodded at you and left you alone in your hospital room with Spencer.

“Why did you deserve it?” You whisper shouted the moment you assumed he was out of earshot.

“The doctor came in and asked about some old bruises on your upper thighs. And ass. And chest. I had to admit they weren't sustained during the kidnapping, and Hotch wasn't pleased.”

You huffed out a sound halfway between incredulous and a strangled moan of shame as you curcled yourself up into a ball and tried your best to die.

“Great. Wonderful.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he thought it was signs of domestic violence and not just rough...sex.”

“Yes, Spencer, that makes me feel entirely more comfortable with the situation.”

Registering the sarcasm in your voice, he quieted down again, settling into the chair by your bedside and grabbing your hand.

You sat silently together for a few minutes before either of you said anything.

“I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to find out.”

“Spencer, you don't have to apologise. All things considered, this is possibly the best way he could've found out.”

“My busted lip suggests otherwise, I think.”

“And a whole lot more would've been busted if he caught us any other time. Besides, I already lost my job, so there's not much else at stake anymore.”

The words stung you as you said them, but you did still feel the weight of your dismissal in your chest, spreading miserably through your bones.

“Does your head still hurt?”

“Not really, why?”

“You're not as perceptive as you usually are.”

You shot him a confused look as he smiled softly down at you, offering a nod towards the small coffee table under the window of your hospital room.

There on your table sat your creds and your gun. The silent acknowledgement you'd been waiting for from your father.

Spencer sat by you as you did your best to hold off the tears. He let you pretend there was something in your eye, let you wonder if your eyes had become watery because of dust from the basement. He quietly held your hand as you grinned and grinned until you pulled him in for a kiss and held him close to you.

His lips were soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you even as he tried to hold himself up and off you so he didn't hurt you.

“You know,” you said, punctuating each word with another sweet kiss. “This means- that- you're- stuck- with- me.”

He laughed into your final kiss, finally pulling back for more air, studying your face as if he were trying to memorize it.

“That was never the issue.”

“Oh really, and what was?”

He kissed your again, slow and deep this time, taking his time working his hands down from your hair to your neck to cup your face so you were opened up to him, letting his lips and tongue explore everything he wanted to. He pulled away eventually and instinctively your lips tried to chase his, even as he pulled out of reach.

“Making sure you stayed by my side.”

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notjustjavierpena · 8 months ago

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you have returned! hope you’re doing ok! i miss husband!javi like i’m missing a limb!

this got me thinking about a request - husband!javi having to go away for a work trip for a few days - comes back and like cute family time. once the kids are in bed he just goes crazy about reader, she’s tired but she handled the kids no problem and is kind of like no big deal about it. and he’s just feral at that. she’s such a good mum and he’s so turned on and he missed her and just ugh smut

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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is a request from the 17th of October 2023. Anon, I hope you are still with us. I loved writing this for you, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to proofreading as always @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !! thank you for hyping me @theywhowriteandknowthings and @pinkypromisepascal 💖❤️

Summary: Javier returns from a business trip after being apart from his family for three whole days.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, domesticity, a happy family, javi having a baby in his arms and spending alone-time with his kids needs its own tag, i love yous, pregnancy, playful and teasing hubby, touch-starved, banter, dirty talk, finger-fucking, talk about female masturbation, pussy eating, loud reader, piv sex, riding, nipple sucking, lactation kink, javi gets off on you being the mother of his children, multiple orgasms, creampie, intense sex, bliss, pillow talk

Word count: 8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54409297

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The sound of the door has you sprinting towards it. You throw your arms around Javier’s neck before he even manages to put down his bag, causing him to drop it and make a noise of concern in case its contents may end up spilling out on the floor. If you have to be completely honest, you don’t give a damn right now because you haven’t felt his embrace for nearly three whole days.

“Hola, baby,” he says with a voice that tells you that he is smiling. He holds you close to himself, one hand reaching around your waist and the other one settling on the back of your head. He presses your body into his own, and you try to keep yourself from making a noise that reminds you of a schoolgirl.

Javier has been on a work trip out of state. It happens from time to time that some department of the state gets the not-so-incredible idea of hiring him as a motivational speaker to make their conferences look more interesting than they actually are. Javier hates it but the money is good and his boss always ends up encouraging him in a way that mostly sounds like he has no choice.

You hate it too. The act of sleeping in your bed alone, not feeling his body heat, and not being able to simply reach out for him if you need him, is torturous. Combined with taking care of three children alone, you find yourself slowly becoming a less-than-ideal version of yourself. It’s a stressfully romantic reminder that you can barely function without him.

“Hi,” you grin widely as you pull back to receive a kiss. You splay your palms on his chest, scratching slightly as he pecks your lips repeatedly for a moment. Your whole body feels like it is made up of butterflies fluttering around each other in a romantic dance.

“Thank God that’s over,” he reaches for the suitcase when you finally allow him to step out of your arms. He walks into the kitchen, “They were talking through my whole fucking presentation, and the meetings afterward… I was just daydreaming about coming home to you and the kids the whole time.”

“That bad?” You follow him around like a puppy. If you didn’t know that he would do the same thing had it been you arriving home, you would find yourself slightly pathetic for being such a fool for him.

“I should’ve said no this time,” he says as if it had ever been an option. You nod as he continues, “I do it every year and I feel like an idiot each time.”

“We need the money,” you argue, finally moving away from your husband to go to the living room where Sebastian is lying on a blanket. He squeals in delight at seeing you, and you pick him up with a coo.

“We don’t need the money, we’ve got enough money,” Javier says from the kitchen.

“Come say hi to your son,” you change the subject and hear Javier’s steps come closer.

“Oh, there he is,” Javier says and his voice switches to baby talk as you hand Sebastian to him. He settles him on his hip, bouncing slightly where he stands, “Te he extrañado tanto, mijo (I have missed you so much, my son).”

Sebastian gurgles happily up at his father. His eyes are full of recognition at the sound of the familiar voice. You swear that you can see a little bit of the exhaustion in Javier’s eyes disappear.

“He’s been really patient with his mom these past couple of days,” you say with a chuckle, “No fussing during naps or nothing. Almost like he knew I needed the extra sympathy.”

“Bet your momma handled everything way better than I could, huh? What do you think?” Javier shifts Sebastian to sit on his arm instead so he can blow a raspberry on his face. He smiles softly at you afterward, turning his head towards you so that he and his son are cheek to cheek, “Is that wrong to assume?”

“I still think you’re better with them than me,” you say simply.

He tuts, “Bullshit.”

Sebastian makes another happy noise at hearing both of his favorite voices. He swings his tiny fists, and Javier grabs one of his hands, “If this one wasn’t so fixated on playing peek-a-boo, he’d agree. Suppose we all have our vices.”

You move past him with a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face. You go to check the food on the stove, and from behind you, Javier sniffs the air. He walks to join you by the counter, “What are you making?”

“Tu favorito (your favorite),” you smile at Sebastian instead of looking at him, leaning in to bump your nose with his tiny one. Sebastian grabs at your face.

“No te merezco, mi amor (I don’t deserve you, my love).”

“We eat in twenty minutes,” you inform after lovingly shaking your head at him. He leans in to kiss you again and you know immediately that this is just one of many kisses you will get tonight.

“Where are the rascals?” He asks.

“In the garden,” you reply and open your arms, “Give him here and go say hi. Inés has been going on about you all day, so please save me from hearing more about her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

Carefully, Javier hands over Sebastian, “I thought you liked her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

“I think I might actually love him,” you grin and try not to feel silly at your sappiness because you do actually love him so much that it is stupid. Sebastian clings to you as soon as he smells you, resting his head on your shoulder and bunching his fists in your shirt.

Javier kisses you once more before heading to the door to the garden. You hear him leave it open, and watch him go outside and step off the porch with a hello.

“Hey there, gremlins!” He shouts. Inés and Lucas, both engrossed in their own activities, look up at the same time. Their faces light up at the sight of their father, but Inés is the one who makes a noise so loud that you can hear it in the kitchen as if she’s speaking right next to you.

Both of them come charging whilst shouting for him. you smile fondly at the sight of them colliding with their father who lets himself be knocked backward into the grass with a happy laugh. He wraps his arms around them and squeezes them tightly, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”

They both look up at his face, speaking enthusiastically at the same time until he can barely tell what is going on. Their stories of the events of the last three days weave together until it is nonsense, and they don’t seem to notice that he cannot follow along with what they are saying. He ruffles their hair and sits up with them still cradled in the crooks of his arms, “Wow wow wow, uno a la vez (one at a time).”

“I made a tower of blocks that was taller than me!” Inés says proudly and Lucas seems to let her have the spotlight for a moment. He knows that she’ll get distracted and run away soon anyway, giving him his own chance at talking to his father. Inés talks loudly, “Mommy took a picture. She said that you needed the evi— evin— uhh… evindance.”

“Evidence,” Lucas corrects her with a superior smirk.

“That’s what I said,” she huffs.

“Nuh-uh,” her brother protests and ducks out from underneath his father’s arm.

“Ya-huh!” Inés removes herself from the embrace too.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Javier chuckles, “I’ll have to ask mamá for your picture. It sounds really cool.”

“Can we build one together?” She asks with a hopeful voice, “Pleeease.”

“Let’s save it for after dinner, mija (my daughter), okay?” He suggests, “And then I’ll build a tower that’s double the size of you before you gotta sleep.”

“Really? When?” Inés reveals that she still has no real concept of time.

“After dinner, baby,” he says again, winking at Lucas who grins, “Go ask Mommy when we’re eating.”

She is up in no time, running towards you in the kitchen. It leaves Lucas the perfect opportunity to have his moment. He gets up from the ground, his jeans covered in green patches, and starts walking towards the swing set that Javier built a few years ago.

“Dad, you need to see what I’ve learned!” He says.

“Alright, let’s see,” Javier pushes himself to stand with a groan and follows, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his son get onto the seat of the swing. By clutching the chains tightly, Lucas pulls himself to carefully stand up on the swing seat.

Javier finds himself about to protest, instinctively holding out a hand to be ready for a potential fall. However, Lucas seems to have everything under control as he holds the chains tightly with both hands. He speaks as he starts swaying back and forth, looking hopeful for approval from who he knows to be the bravest man in his world, “I practiced all day yesterday!”

“Eres increíble (you’re incredible)!” Javier cheers but then smiles smugly, “Does mom know you’re doing that?”

“She told me not to,” he admits shyly.

“Well, I haven’t seen anything,” Javier winks.

“Thanks, Dad,” it sounds genuine, happy to keep a secret. Lucas lights up, “Wanna see me jump?”

“Even your old dad has limits,” Javier laughs with a shake of his head, “Get down from there. No jumping.”

“Fine,” his son grumbles.

When he is on the ground, you pop your head out of the door to call them inside, “Dinner time, chicos (guys). Lucas, come in here and wash your hands.”

You smile as they approach, and when Lucas has walked past you, you stop Javier in the doorway and curl your fingers around his tie, “You better wash them too, Peña.”

—

The sun hangs low on the horizon when dinner ends. You start gathering the plates and glasses, and Lucas joins in without hesitation which gives Javier a glimpse of what happens when he isn’t home to take care of you. Maybe his son can sense your exhaustion too. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach but decides to make up for it by getting his daughter ready for bed.

“Come on, mija (my daughter),” he says, picking Inés up from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder to make her laugh, “Pajamas first and then building blocks.”

He carries her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her into her pajamas, braids her hair the way she likes it, and then gets her toothbrush. She spends the whole time babbling about how she’ll grow taller like her mother and thus they’ll have to build a higher tower each day.

“Open up,” he says, sitting on the lid of the toilet with her standing between his legs. He holds her toothbrush in front of her mouth.

“Do you think I’ll be taller than you someday?” She asks with her childlike eyes, and Javier has to tap her chin to make her remember to open her lips.

“No, because I’ll just wear very big shoes, even if my head bumps against the ceiling,” he tells her with a grin, “C’mon, teeth brushing time.”

Inés grimaces but follows through and he has to shush her several times because she wants to keep talking.She even sports impatience on her face as her father wipes down her mouth with a damp flannel to rid it of leftover toothpaste. She looks ready to bolt out of the door, fidgeting slightly on the spot, “You promised we could build a tower before bed.”

“And we can,” he reassures, turning the flannel over to wipe the tip of her nose playfully. She crinkles it and reaches up to rub it afterward when he moves to hang it on the laundry basket, “But we’re getting ready for bed first. Hair okay?”

She nods, not entirely convinced that she gets to stay up longer after having brushed her teeth but when Javier has put her toothbrush back in its place in the medicine cabinet, she beams as he allows her to run off to her room. He follows behind, arms stretched out in front of himself, “I’m coming to get you, mija (my daughter)!”

“Nooo!” She squeals in delight, trying to barricade the door with her tiny body but he is too fast and manages to reach her before she can even close it. He picks her up by her middle and holds her upside down, shaking her gently while she laughs and laughs.

“Mi monita (my little monkey),” he laughs too.

They spend half an hour as the architects of a tall and colorful skyscraper, Inés too impatient to see the tower reach her own height to care much for aesthetics. Javier tries suggesting a storyline of a castle but his daughter shakes her head.

“Stop, Daddy,” she commands and he holds up his hands in surrender.

“So no princesses live here?” He questions, “Not even a dragon? Or maybe a—”

“No,” she deadpans, steadfast just like Javier’s father has told him he was. He smiles when she isn’t looking, not about to get scolded by a 4-year-old for not taking their playtime seriously. He enjoys the little moments he has like these, seeing the way his daughter imitates his own behavior in a way that would make your teasing never-ending if you saw it. At that moment, he despises himself and his job because he has to leave sometimes and thus misses out on things. He should have been here when Inés built a tower as tall as herself by herself, not see it in a photograph later.

Eventually, the construction gets too tall for her to build it even taller. Javier is put to work immediately after she realizes this, and she oversees his work with important nods and looks of assessment.

“Look, Daddy!” She exclaims with each building block that Javier places on top of another. She stands beside the tower because she needs to compare her height to it, and Javier has to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she gets close to making it tumble down, “Do you think it will reach the ceiling?”

“One day I’m sure it’ll reach the moon,” he replies as if it is a fact, “I for sure am tall enough.”

“No, you’re not,” she furrows her brow, thinking, “But we will just have to get a very big ladder.”

Finally, Javier has built a tower double her size. It stands wobbly on the floor. He nods towards it, “There you go, mi amor (my love), do you want to put the last block on top? The triangular one?”

She nods and he notices the telltale signs of Inés’ tiredness because her eyes have started drooping. She rubs them with a little sigh, and then holds out her arms so he can pick her up and place her on his hip.

She places the block carefully on top after Javier hands it to her. It is like all energy reserves have been used up from one moment to another. However, he doesn’t want to risk the unsteady tower falling over in the middle of the night, so he whispers in his most mischievous voice, “Do you want to knock it down?”

“Can I?” She widens her eyes.

“Sí, pero no se lo digas a tu mamá (yes, but don’t tell your mom),” he confirms, “Perhaps a big angry monkey swung from it whilst roaring like this!”

He imitates King Kong the best he can and is thankful she has no clue what it is, and she repeats after him only to push on the stacked blocks until they tumble to the floor. He kicks the remaining pieces with his foot, and she roars again. They laugh together until she yawns.

“Alright, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” he announces then, and she doesn’t protest. He shifts her slightly in his arms so she can wrap herself around him with both her arms and legs, burying her face in his shoulder. It’s clear that she has missed him. He rubs her back with both hands before holding her in place, moving towards the bed in the corner of her room.

Gently, he lays her down and crouches down beside her afterward. He pulls the covers up over her head on purpose and earns a giggle, “Oh no, where did Inés go?”

“You’re silly, Papá,” she says.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells her after tucking her in properly this time, “You are so tired. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for playing with me,” Inés says with a yawn, turning on her side to look at him better. She softens a little as her eyes start to flutter closed, her father’s hand running over her head. Another yawn comes, “Te quiero, Papá. No me gusta cuando te vas y no me gusta extrañarte (I love you, Dad. I don’t like it when you leave and I don’t like missing you).”

Javier sucks in a breath. He rubs the spot between her eyebrows, trying to keep his composure, “Lo sé, mi vida (I know, my life). I love you too. Sleep well, okay?”

“Okay,” she slurs, and then her breathing slows. He tucks her in one last time, leaning in to kiss her hair softly before stretching carefully to his full height. He makes sure to turn on her night light before turning off the overhead lights, closing the door ever so gently afterward.

He lets out a deep breath right outside her room and smooths two fingers over his mustache. He hasn’t told you about this yet but he is considering quitting his job, has been considering it very seriously since Christmas when he promised to cut down on work significantly to be home a lot more with you and the kids. That and the fact that you are carrying his fourth child, and leaving you home alone with all four in the future just seems cruel.

However, it’s a comment like the one he has just received from his only daughter that sets it in stone. His search for other jobs is not a mere idea any longer but rather a necessity if he wants to continue being happy with his family.

He has to tell you and he is dying to already, but first, he wants to unpack and then tuck Lucas in too. He has three days of goodnights to catch up on.

—

He enters Lucas’ room half an hour later to the familiar sound of his son’s Game Boy, its rhythmic beeps and pings accompanied by the frantic tapping on its buttons. Lucas is sitting cross-legged in his bed, already wearing his pajamas and with his face illuminated by the screen of his console.

“Hey Dad, can you knock? I’m losing my concentration,” his son says without looking up from the screen, already sounding so grown up that Javier has to tighten his grip around the doorknob. Where did the time go?

“Ay, Lucas,” he tuts and crosses the room to stand by the bed, “Soy tu padre (I’m your father).”

“I just really don’t want to lose,” he explains and starts tapping away on the buttons again, his stare still fixed on the little jumping character. Javier waits for a moment, following his game by looking over his shoulder.

When enough time has passed and Lucas seems to relax a bit more, he interrupts again, “Alright, time for bed, muchacho (young man).”

“One more game!” Lucas finally looks up with pleading eyes. The boy sports the same puppy-look in them that you have said Javier does himself, and it was only when he looked into Lucas’ pleading face the first time that he realized what you meant. The look is damn near impossible to say no to.

“Fine, but I’m taking it afterward unless you promise me not to play all night,” he says firmly, “Even Mario has to sleep at some point.”

“I will!” He reassures quickly, “Only five minutes more, I promise.”

“But I want to talk to you about something first,” he holds out his hand for the gaming console, “Dámelo (Give it to me). It’s important you listen.”

“Am I in trouble?” Lucas reluctantly hands his most precious belonging to his father who places it on the nightstand.

“What? No, mijo (my son),” Javier gets Lucas under the covers, tucks him in, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “How would you like it if I got to spend more time at home with you all?”

“What do you mean?” Lucas tilts his head in confusion.

“Can you keep a secret from Mom?” He asks with a gentle smile. Lucas nods. He continues, “I’m quitting my job soon.”

“Really?!” Lucas exclaims with pure shock on his face.

“Shh, your sister and your brother are asleep down the hall,” he shushes, holding a finger in front of his mouth.

“Really?” He whispers instead.

“Absolutely, really,” Javier whispers back and Lucas’ eyes sparkle with excitement. He sits up in bed, pushing the covers aside to crawl into his father’s arms. Maybe he isn’t so grown up after all. Javier hugs him back and kisses his hair, “I’ve been thinking that spending more time with you, your brother and your sister is what I’ve been missing. I don’t like leaving you here to be the big boy of the house when I’m not here.”

He continues when Lucas tightens his arms around him. He muses, “And even if I’ll still have a job, there’ll be more time for game nights and football in the garden. Would you like that?”

Lucas nods into his shoulder. Javier chuckles softly, "But remember, es nuestro secreto (it’s our secret) until I talk to Mom about it. We want to make sure she's on board with the plan, yeah?”

Lucas pulls back and nods eagerly, looking like he is already daydreaming of the extra time he'll get to spend with his father. However, there’s a tinge of anxiety in his excitement, and his voice is an unsure whisper when he speaks his concern, "Dad, what if Mom doesn't like the idea? What if she gets upset?"

“She understands how important our family time is. Trust me, te prometo (I promise) everything will be okay," he says with a reassuring smile.

“But what will your new job be?” Lucas continues, “Will it be something cool?”

“I think I might start teaching people how to catch bad guys like I used to do,” he shrugs.

Lucas grimaces, “You’re gonna be a teacher?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he laughs, “Bedtime.”

“You said one more game!” He protests.

Javier gets up to grab the Game Boy off the nightstand. He holds it out for his son and yanks it away when he tries to take it, “One.”

“I promise,” he says and takes it when he is allowed.

“And your father is actually very cool,” Javier moves to turn off the lights. He can already hear the theme tune of Lucas’ game, “Buenas noches (goodnight).”

“Buenas noches, papá, te quiero,” Lucas beams in the few seconds he looks up.

“Y yo a tí, mijo (I love you too, my son),” he says and flicks the switch.

“They’re asleep,” Javier says as he enters the kitchen a few minutes later. He finds you leaning against the counter with a glass of alcohol-free red wine in your hand. The bottle stands on the counter behind you, its contents half-emptied as if it's been your only way of treating yourself in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed. You look tired from having been alone with all three of them - one of them still an infant - for three days and with a secret baby in your belly to top it off.

Chucho had offered to help you out but you had politely declined so as to not ask for too much of your father-in-law, not be too much of an inconvenience when he has so much to do at the ranch with getting ready for the Spring.

“I’m about to be too,” you say after a sip of your glass.

“When I’ve finally gotten you to myself?” Javier tuts and steps closer to you, stopping when he is right in front of you. He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter next to the wine bottle and then he takes the glass off your hand, setting it aside as well.

His hands find your sides afterward, cupping your waist for a moment before they slide around your body so he can pull you in for a long and desperate kiss. You rest your arms on his shoulders, cradling his head as he moves his mouth with yours. It is nothing but pure ecstasy to feel him like this again, so much that you forget to breathe and have to pull away too soon.

You know he is the same when he sucks a breath in at the same time as you. However, instead of kissing you again, he lets you catch your breath and hugs you close to his chest. His body feels warm, an instant smile forming on your face as he squeezes you.

“Hi,” you say, sounding drunk despite the wine having no alcohol. His arms are a harbor, the very definition of the end of unhappiness. They’re strong and enough to make your head swim, holding you with the promise of never being apart except for physically.

You feel his breath against your ear, “Hey, mamá.”

“I’m so glad you’re home with me again,” you close your eyes as you inhale through your nose, letting the scent of him flood your system.

Javier pulls back and stares at you for a moment. He smirks, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes. Then he lets go of you to reach up and teasingly pull down your top to look down into it.

“Ay, Javi,” you scold with a roll of your eyes.

“What?” He acts oblivious.

“You’re acting insane, and I’m trying to be genuine.”

“I haven’t seen you in three days, mi amor (my love), you can’t blame me,” he protests your accusation, “Besides, this is me being very genuine.”

“Missed you too,” you sigh.

“And I’ve missed you, Jesus,” he wraps his arms around your waist again, pulls you closer to his body, and uses every opportunity to kiss you after each sentence, “Missed these tits. Missed your gorgeous pussy. You gotta let me have it tonight, mamácita.”

“Take me upstairs then,” you lean your head back when he presses his lips to your throat, “We’re not doing it in the kitchen. Against popular belief.”

Javier snorts, “But we always—“

“I said against popular belief, baby,” you stress.

“Fine, c’mere then,” his arms slide down over your hips, and when they reach your knees, he scoops you up with his strong arms and lifts you over his shoulder. You answer with a yelp that turns into a panicked laugh but he simply smacks your ass and starts walking. In the middle of the chaos, you manage to reach for the baby monitor on the counter.

“You are incorrigible,” you say with a dramatic sigh.

“Yes, wife, yes, wife good, I like wife,” he replies in his best caveman accent and you snicker all the way up the stairs, legs dangling over his shoulder and ready to scold him each time he gropes your ass.

When he throws you down on the bed, you are having a full-on laughing fit and the bubbling in your chest feels so good. Even better, when he looms over you by the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, only to crawl on top of you. He kisses your wine-stained lips, scooping you up into his arms and you return his embrace after throwing the baby monitor on the bed.

“I love your laugh,” he says softly when he needs a breath, bumping your noses together.

“You just kidnapped me from the kitchen, that’s no laughing matter,” you tease. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck while you talk.

“Then why are you giggling like a schoolgirl?” He places a hand on your belly that still keeps a secret between the two of you. No one knows yet.

There is concentration on his face when his hand moves up under your top, smoothing the fabric up until you stretch your arms above your head to help him rid it off of your body.

“Hmm,” you think out loud, “Maybe because I have this terrible schoolgirl crush on you.”

“Really? I thought marriage was just a matter of convenience,” he chuckles and kisses your neck again. You lay your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over the broadness of his bare skin that’s been missing underneath your fingertips and pushing him down towards your chest.

“This is pretty good too, most convenient,” you note with a grin as he follows your silent order, moving his mouth south on you until he plants kisses between your breasts. You reach underneath your back to undo your bra, and he peels it off of you and sighs with satisfaction as soon as he has your upper body naked.

“Look at you,” he groans, throwing the bra to the side and diving back into you. He kisses the swell of your right breast, “You make me so fucking horny.”

You throw your head back as he lets the flat of his tongue trail wetly from one breast to the other. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and earns his first moan, to which he presses his clothed crotch into your thigh to show you how hard he is already.

“I’ve been wet since I saw you at the door,” you admit, “Been thinking of your cock inside of me each night. So fucking lonely without you.”

“You should have called me,” he mutters, mouth going further down on your body until he reaches the hem of your jeans. He undoes the button and zipper, yanking them over your hips and pulling them off your legs.

“I was too busy screwing myself,” you tell him and he immediately finds your eyes. That clearly hit a spot, “You like that, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” he struggles a little with the jeans as they sit around your ankles, but the desperation has him yanking them off with enough enthusiasm to pull you along.

“If you weren’t trying to drag me onto the floor— oh, shit.”

Javier has dragged your underwear along with the jeans, and he is now sinking two fingers deep inside of your dripping cunt and pressing them upwards. It’s what you get for being snarky, you suppose, staring down at him as he fucks you open on his digits.

“Your mouth— ah, put your mouth on me,” you try to command.

“Quiet down, baby. I literally just put the kids to bed. You want them running in here?” He shushes you with an amused grin, adding a third finger to your squelching cunt to make you groan, “While I’m wearing you like a puppet?”

You rock against his hand with a chuckle that develops into a moan, “Imagine the conversation that’ll start.”

“I’d rather have a conversation about how filthy you’ve been while I was away,” he speeds up his fingers to make you cry out against your hand but he doesn’t make you come, changing his mind halfway there to follow through on your request, “No, actually I’ll have you monologue about it because I’m going to eat your pussy as you do it.”

You tremble as he takes your clit in his mouth, easing his tongue over the hard nub over and over again whilst timing it with the strokes of his fingers. You feel so full of his digits, and it takes you a moment to trust yourself not to cry at the ceiling the second you remove your hand from your mouth.

“Took a long shower the day before yesterday, after the kids had gone to school and Seb was napping,” you begin with shaking breaths. You need to start the sentence three times before you can make your words make sense, “Used the faucet on the bathtub and came so goddamn hard. You should’ve seen me with my legs up against the wall.”

Below you, Javier hums in approval and it vibrates through your throbbing pussy. You continue.

“I imagined you going down on me with your warm tongue, circling my clit— yes, just like that,” just talking about it makes you gush from how horny it makes you, wetness dripping past Javier’s lips and into his mouth. He groans against you and mouths at your pulsing clit. You find yourself much closer from how well your body remembers the orgasm you had in the shower; the warm water pounding rhythmically against your clit, your toes curling, and— and.

You grind into his mouth and fuck yourself on his fingers as you come, the hot and heavy feeling of an orgasm crashing over you and intensifying as it peaks. You have to bite your lip to keep from screaming, still not managing to keep the high-pitched ah! from reverberating through the room. Javier’s fingers feel so much bigger inside of you as your cunt strangles them, and when you look down at him, you see that he is crashing his hips against the bed to feel just a bit of relief.

You have lost all restraint in your noises as you feel the pleasure ebb out, leaving you a whimpering and panting mess on the bed that wants it all. Somehow you are deeply satisfied at the same time as knowing that this is not enough; you need all of him, and you need him inside of your cunt until you can barely move from the spot. The fact that your body still works when he pulls his fingers from you is an indication of not having had enough.

“Need to fuck you,” he says from below you, crawling on top of you. He has left a damp spot on the sheets from where his cock has dragged against them, and he looks like he is in pain at this point if he doesn’t get to feel you around him, “Now, mi amor (my love).”

“No,” you stop him as he tries spreading your legs with a gentle yet hurried hand.

“No?” His brows furrow, a protest on the tip of his tongue.

“Let me ride you,” you beg, already pushing on his shoulders and feeling how he is giving in in an instant, “Please, I want you so deep in me.”

“Yes, yeah, okay,” he breathes, moving to lie on his back with a pillow under his head. You shake as you lift yourself to straddle him, holding out your arms in front of yourself to signal that you want him to be close to you. He reads you without you saying anything and sits up in your bed so you can be chest to chest.

You reach beneath yourself to take hold of the base of his cock, holding him in place so you can sink down on his shaft until he is buried inside of you to the hilt. You are dripping wet. The motion of engulfing him in your heat is smooth and effortless, and the moans the both of you let out are closer to whines because you are so starved.

“It’s so good, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles quietly in your ear, nosing along the spot behind it. You arch into him, nodding without any words coming to your mind. Instead, you let out a soft gasp as he fucks up into you.

Nothing describes being this close to him after not even being able to kiss him for three days. Other couples would shake their heads if they knew how desperate you get from merely three days apart. You only feel sorry for them. They don’t get how your days are spent with taking every opportunity to lay eyes on each other, breathe and taste each other or even just being able to put a hand on each other’s shoulder, hip, the small of the back.

“Let me,” you pant as he moves underneath you, sending you into a state where you need to concentrate if you want to get out a proper sentence, “I want to fuck this cock. Please, let me.”

Javier stills his hips underneath you. He seems to be holding his breath as he watches you place your hands on his shoulders and then feel them slide behind his head to tilt his head backward. He looks up at you as you start moving on him, rocking in his lap so he barely pulls out of you.

“Come on, that’s a good girl,” he says when he finally sucks in a breath, eyes gazing up at you with a pussydrunk look in them. When they glaze over like this, you know his words will be ravenous and never-ending, “Fuck, baby. That’s it. There you go. Let me touch you so deep inside.”

It doesn’t take long for him to be distracted by your moving chest as you sensually drag your hips over his thick cock. He did tell you that he had missed your breasts but that had been in a slightly playful manner; you never thought that you would actually start to feel beautiful under his hungry eyes. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you because he always knows how to make you feel desirable.

“Attagirl,” he groans, holding your hip tightly with his right hand to help you keep your balance, “God, look at those pretty tits.”

You arch your back as he puts his other hand on your left breast, bending his head down to mouth along the swell until he reaches your nipple. He swirls his tongue once but it is too hard to keep going when you move more frantically on top of him to pleasure yourself, so instead, he wraps his whole mouth around the hardened, spit-slicked peak and sucks until your cunt clamps down in surprise of how good it feels.

“Fuck,” you pant, closing your eyes. The noises of him sucking on your breasts fill your ears and along with how it is making your belly swirl, it makes you impossibly wetter, coating his dick in a milky-white ring. A lewd thought enters your mind. Perhaps, he keeps knocking you up because of this; your cup size has remained the same for a while because you’ve been breastfeeding for months now, and with another baby on its way, you know that the months will keep adding up in the near future.

A drop slips into his mouth and spurs him on to give you a thorough taste. Your brows pull together as a more high-pitched moan leaves your open mouth and he pulls back to shush you gently. Then he sucks greedily again.

You had once asked him why he loved this, and he had replied that the very fact that you were producing milk so sweet to nurture his child went straight to his dick.

“Javi,” you whine to tell him just how you feel. He removes his mouth from your sensitive chest to talk, albeit reluctantly. However, when he notices the change in your sounds and your pitch, he doesn’t want to look away from your face again until he has seen you lose it.

“Oh, you wanna come, huh? Then fuck me,” he says with milk-stained lips. You move desperately in his lap as he spurs you on, feeling the head of his cock dragging back and forth inside of you, laying against your g-spot perfectly if you tilt your hips just a bit. Javier’s eyes burn as they stare up at you but he cannot help himself from occasionally glancing down at your bouncing tits. Your need to come grows, and when you press down slightly harder, you see stars behind your eyelids. A second orgasm tears through you, and one of the hands that has gripped your hip hard enough to bruise comes up to cover your mouth because you start screaming. It’s so intense to have missed him so much.

“There she is,” he growls lowly, watching your face contort with pleasure until tears slide down your face and underneath his palm that’s tightly secured over your whining mouth, “That’s my good girl. You know how to come on this fucking cock, fuck, you feel so good, mi vida (my life), choking my dick. Keep going— no no, don’t stop, ride through it, baby.”

You force yourself to continue moving and keep crying into his hand, wet from drool and tears by now. The oversensitivity is mind-numbing, toe-curling, and somehow still not enough.

“Almost made me come, mi chica sucía y desesperada (my dirty, eager girl),” he says through a breathless chuckle but then raises his brows as your pitch starts climbing once again. You have successfully bypassed your body and started building up another high, “You’re gonna come again? Díos mio (my God), my beautiful wife is insatiable.”

Any chance of talking back at him is lost because you would wake up the whole neighborhood if he dared remove his hand from your mouth. To put his filthy mouth in its place, you start bouncing in his lap to the point where his naked thighs crash harshly into your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin is dirty but Javier’s desperate groans are obscene. He can barely talk now without his voice wavering, and with the way he repeats himself, you know he is doing everything in his power to let you come one more time before he bursts, “Use my cock, yes like that. K-keep going— you’re gonna make me come. Oh fuck.”

When he notices that you are trying to say something, he removes his hand and allows you a single sentence before clamping the hand down over your mouth again.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you whimper with exhaustion, thighs having started to tremble with the effort you are putting into bouncing in his lap. They hurt at this point, straining despite how much you also use your arms to steer yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Go until you can’t fucking do it anymore and I’ll take over, yeah?” He nods at you when you make a mhm-noise into his hand, eyes encouraging and his breaths less composed.

When you come a second time on his dick, you falter immediately. The sensation of the pleasure that has built up so fast again crashes down and takes you with it in its fall. You are silent when it’s teetering on the edge, and then it makes your voice crack when you feel the first tug behind your throbbing clit.

There is only the feeling of your convulsing cunt making you believe in a higher power - in this case, Javier fucking Peña - and then said higher power wrapping his arm around your sticky back to lift you up and down. He snaps his hips upwards to use your body for his own pleasure, and after a series of frantic movements, he comes with a groan. The feeling of his warm spill inside of you has you whimpering, and you try your best to rock your hips the best your exhausted body can. If it weren’t for all the dopamine in your system, you are sure it would hurt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes. Oh, baby, fuck the come out of me, yes, that’s it,” he chants underneath you as he fills you up, moving to meet you halfway until he also has no more to give. When he stills, he grabs your face to smash your lips together in a messy, desperate kiss that is more teeth than anything else. It feels impossible to get close enough to him, even if your chests stick together from sweat.

A moment later, you fall down onto his chest with a chuckle, head swimming from what you have just done. Your arms lie on either side of his head, and your cheek is pressed into his hair. You can feel his nose dig into your shoulder, inhaling you and your post-sex scent, and his arms tighten around your waist as he hugs you close.

“That was fantastic,” you groan with him still inside of you. He gives you one more thrust, pressing his hips upwards, and you half-moan in oversensitivity and half-laugh in surprise, “Stop it, Peña.”

He laughs breathlessly, placing a kiss on your bare skin. Then he slips out of you with a grunt, and you feel his come drip from you already, down onto his cock and thighs. He rubs your sides with his broad hands, “I have missed you as well, you know.”

“I don’t ever want you to go again,” you demand sillily.

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time.”

There’s a pause between the two of you. It lasts several minutes where you just lie on top of his chest. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. Javier says nothing yet you know him well enough to know that he is considering his words.

“I was thinking of something,” he finally says.

You sit up at that, “What?”

“You know how I said something about work during Christmas? That I wanted to be more home with you and the kids, that it would make me happier?” He begins, looking up at you and not hesitating in his eye contact with you.

You suddenly pay a lot more attention, “Yeah?”

“I was thinking that since I will have a bunch of kids to carry around a lot more years from now, I can’t be running around in the force anymore. My back is fucking killing me, and I also want to make love to my wife on the regular,” he tells you and you know instantly that it’s serious even if he says it with a chuckle, “I was thinking of teaching at the local college. They have a criminology course, and with my time in school with my head in the books - I mean, my bachelor’s degree - it shouldn’t be a problem to get a job there.”

“Are you serious?” You gape at him.

“Yes, of course, I am,” he furrows his brow slightly. Only now, he looks unsure but still keeps talking, “It would mean nothing of this sort either; me going away.”

“Babe, that’s amazing,” you fall down into him again, causing an umph-noise from your husband, and then you crash your lips into his. You kiss him as if your life depended on it, sliding your fingers through his dark hair and tugging slightly as if trying to get him even closer to you.

He looks drunk and disheveled when you pull back again, a goofy and satisfied smile on his face. His fingers scratch slightly along your back, “You’d like that, huh?”

“Yes, please,” you beam with happiness.

“Then you shall have it, mi vida (my life),” his hands travel down to your ass which he gropes obscenely, and when you make a noise, he smacks your right cheek. You feel his cock, hard again, poke into your thigh.

You look down between you, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d gotten old…”

“Like I said…” He grabs your waist and pulls you down to lie on your back. A yelp escapes your lips.

He is inside of you mere seconds after, causing you to longingly whine. He thrusts once then twice, and you throw your head back to take it, “…I’ve missed you.”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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nightmare-niko · 11 months ago

Text

Welcome Home [Childhoodbestfriend!Coryo x reader]

Warnings: TBOSAS spoilers, angst, two idiots in love, too cute for your own good tbh, no use of Y/n

A/n: Im still getting back in the swing of fanfic writing but if you have any other characters from The Hunger Games universe you want me to write for just lmk!!!!

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Childhoodbestfriend!coryo who searches for your face in the crowded train station, and when he finally sees you, his knees almost gave in.

The two of you didn’t leave off on the best of terms (he blew you off the second he met Lucy Gray) and Coriolanus didn’t think you’d show up to welcome him home.

But there you were.

There in the crowd you stood, nervously playing with the end of your hair just like you always did. You looked through the sea of faces for your best friend, at first you couldn’t see him. Perhaps you missed him? Surely not… But then, there he was. Coriolanus Snow, Your Coryo.

Before you could register what was happening you were barreling towards him. Engulfing him in a bone crushing hug that he doesn’t hesitate to return.

“Oh Coryo!” You exclaim, pulling back from the hug to get a better look at him. “Oh my goodness! Your hair! What did they do to your hair? You’re bald!” You rub your hands in his head, savoring the strange new sensation.

He laughs gently, taking your wrists in his hands and holding them close. “I am not bald! it’ll grow back before you even realize, a swear.” He pauses for a moment, staring deeply into your eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you more than you can know, Coryo”

“I’m sure i missed you more,” he paused again. “Where’s Tigris?”

“Don’t worry, she’s at work, she wishes she could be here but you know how her boss is.” Coryo hums in acknowledgment, “and I talked to grandma’am earlier today and she gave me strict instructions to keep you away from your house tonight.” You take his hand and start walking your way through the platform.

“What? Why?” The grip on your hand tight, as if he’s scared to lose you.

“Oh she wouldn’t tell me, she knew I was just gonna end up telling you anyway.” Your arms brush together as you walk, to anyone else, the two of you look like the loveliest couple. “But that just means you get to spend your first day back your favorite person!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way~”

•

“Are you sure your parents are going to be okay with me staying over?" Your parents were never the biggest fan of Coriolanus Snow, they werent fans of the Snow family at all, and when they saw him on to with that District girl they deemed him no good.

"Oh they moved out, I have the place all to myself,” as you approach us your penthouse door you pat at your pockets for the key. "I Prepared the spare room for you for. When you come over, even though you always insist on taking up my whole bed...”

"Your bed is just the most comfortable bed, ever." He raises his hands in defeate. "Your bed is big enough for the both of us."

“It’s only big enough when you sleep normally which you never do. Ever,” the two of laugh as you enter your home.

When he walks through the door of your lavish capitol penthouse, he couldn’t stop himself from crying. The house didnt look the same from when he was last here. When he was last in your penthouse, it was right after his and Clemensia Dovecoats run in with Dr. Gaul. The once colourless decor of your house was now full of life, full of you.

As the tears fell down his pale check, you turned back to look at him. You were at his side in a second, "Coryo, what’s wrong?" You wipe his tears away with the cuff of your Sleeve.

"Nothing - It's nothing really, I just missed this, You." His voice just above a whisper.

“I missed you too, more than you can know.” You smush his cheeks in between your hand.

He swats your hand away, “I’m not a kid anymore, you can’t treat me like it,” a light pink flush blooms on his ears.

“Oh nonsense! I’m your best friend, and I’m older than you so I’ll always treat you like a kid!”

“You can’t treat me like a kid when I’m president,” he jokes through quiet sobs.

"I’m never going to stop, Coryo, I’m your best friend, it’s my job to annoy you," You run your fingers through his hair.

"You’re never annoying...”

As the two of you make your way into your room. It was the same as he remembered.

"It's the same," he points out.

"What is?" you question,

"The room, you didnt change it...”

"Why would I change it? I love my room, and when my parents moved away and left me the house, I figured: Why not just make the whole place my own?"

You take off your sweater and shoes before climbing into your bed. Your eyes follow Coryo as he walks around your room, making himself at home. After taking off his shoes he joins you on your bed, tackling you in a hug, knocking you over.

“Woah!”

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, basking in his warmth. Neither of you feel the need to say anything. Sure you were curious about his time away, but you knew Coryo was tired and all you wanted was for him to be comfortable.

Oh how you’ve missed this.

Tag list: @nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem

(If you wanna be tagged when I post hunger games stuff just lmk and I’ll add u to a tag list!!!)

#friends #mutuals #art #wattpad #writing #original story #fanfic #fantasy #moodboard #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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dolicekiss · 5 months ago

Note

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests (i don't know how the request work so sorry)

Could u write a one-shot, where Reader and Duncan have a mission and them go to the place but before do the work, they arrive at a hotel and them only rent a room with one bed (obviously) Duncan tells her that he'll take the bed and she'll sleep on the floor, then he go to take a shower and she doesn't care about his request and takes the bed, Duncan comes out and them start to fight because she didn't listen him, until she suggests that both take the bed (Duncan don't like the idea but don't decline and just does it) after a while she stars to tempt him at first he's angry bout all the situation, but the moment takes another path and u alr know (smut) if u r comfortable with ofc. (And sorry my english isn't great sorry for the type errors)

This is an idea of one chat with a bot of c.ia but the bots r not as good as a writer <3

♡: anon i know about this bot and i have done some freaky stuff w it 🤭 i love this request

Contumacious

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Bratty!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties), bratty reader, dominant duncan, tension, oral (male receiving), duncan calls reader ‘little girl’, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, biting, slight blood, degrading, talkative duncan, slight (very minor) fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: On a mission, Duncan decides to stay at a hotel room for further planning and to rest. But when he orders you to take the floor and decides to stake his claim over the bed, things become heated between the two of you.

Duncan didn't expect to see a single bed in the room when he stormed in, along with you, who carried your own bag of basic necessities.

Frustration was as clear as water on his rough features when he realized he'd have to sacrifice a good night's sleep if he were to allow you slumber along him.

So he didn't sacrifice shit.

The man dropped his duffle bag over the bed, in a way branding it as his. “I get the bed, you get the floor.”

You couldn't even oppose because he'd already left for the bathroom, assuming to take a shower. Your lips formed a frown, brows furrowing. Just who did Duncan Vizla think he was? You both were equals on this mission, sent by Damucles to strike down a Mexican mob boss.

Duncan being older didn't mean he could do as he wished. You stood firm on give respect in order to receive it, age had nothing to do with it. You also placed your bag on the bed and slipped off your boots, sprawling across it.

If you had to take the bed forcefully, then so be it.

When Duncan was finished with his shower and came out, he was the least bit pleased with the sight afore him. You on your stomach, laying on the bed, feet up in the air and oscillating.

His bushy eyebrows scrunched in irritation. The man stormed towards you, standing right in front of you and you lifted your gaze up fron the pistol in your hands. Only to acknowledge him before going back to toying with the weapon in your hands.

That only worked to raise his anger more.

“I told you the bed is mine. Get your little ass off it.” You lifted your head, to face him and then slid off the bed. Now standing right in front of him — gaze unwavering and posture strong. Duncan knew you were one hell of a stubborn brat. He'd come across you before and he hated every bit of it.

You placed your hand on your hip.

A pose that struck him with a lash of irritation.

“It is a big bed and who are you to claim it first? Just because you're old, you think you can come in here and order me around?” Duncan’s eyes flared up. Nostrils expanding and the anger on his face was like embers swirling in lava.

He took a step forward. “Listen here, little girl. I might be old but you could never reach the amount of missions I have been successful at, nor do you know real struggle. Try sleeping in the Siberian Winds with no clothes, not a single thread to cover your damn body.”

You couldn't believe it.

He was rubbing his life experiences in your face as if he didn't himself chose to work for Damocles.

He became the black kaiser because he wanted to.

In the heat of the prickling anger, you also stepped forward. Your chest brushing against his. “You chose that for yourself but I won't let you choose the bed. Either we both sleep on it together or you take the fucking floor. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping on the floor.”

Duncan groaned.

He knew of the abundance stubbornness you possessed. There was no way you would back out, knowing that the way you got yourself snuck into his mission was by being completely adamant and demanding money if not allowed in.

But he too couldn't retreat, as his pride was on the line. “I could easily throw you on the floor, little girl.”

You snickered. “I'd like to see you try.”

Duncan stared at you. Drinking in your petite form and how small you were in comparison to him. Primal and dark was what stirred within the base of his abdomen when his mind finally grasped on how pathetic you were. Indeed you were a trained killer, amazing at martial arts too but Duncan knew against him you stood no chance.

Due to the diligence of your work and mission, Duncan never really focused on your features.

Your challenge nearly caused him to pick you up and toss you on the damn floor. Duncan raised his hand — fingers opening to wrap around your throat. The inside of his fingers brushed across your throat and you swallowed tightly, waiting for him to act out his aggression.

Duncan’s hand fell.

Your brow raised at his defeat. “Fine but you better keep at your side. If I see a damn leg or arm of yours on my side, you best believe I'm choppin’ it off.”

You dismissed him with your hand and Duncan’s hand formed into a fist. He really wanted to teach you a lesson. Hating how you paraded around Damocles like you were the only one, an egoistic but skilled assasian.

Just for the sake of the mission, Duncan let it go.

He settled on the bed on one side and watched you take out your own clothes from the duffle bag, making your way to the bathroom. In your hand were some panties and a loose, button up shirt. It was what you'd managed to pack in a hurry when you were told about your mission with Duncan.

Honestly, you sort of looked up to him.

No one was as heavily respected in Damocles as he was.

The Black Kaiser.

Aim perfect and sharp. He knew so many ways to discard the enemy and you'd only witnessed a few of them on this mission. It filled you with unbridled excitement when you'd finally landed yourself with him.

Your shower was relaxing. Warm water soothing all your strained muscles — the combat sure taking its toll on you. Slow hands caressing the skin, ridding of it any dirt that lingered. After done shampooing your hair and washing your body, you dried yourself and changed into your clothes.

The outfit was sultry to say the least but you knew Duncan was a man who would never find you attractive.

You knew of his irritation and annoyance aimed at you. It was honestly adorable at times how he got pissed, finding joy in pushing at his buttons.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Duncan’s head snapped into your direction and his expression hardened. There you sauntered towards the bed with bare thighs and plush breasts peeking out from within the confines of your shirt.

He swallowed, his adjustment of himself not slipping past you.

You laid down on the bed and let out a sigh, finally finding peace. A good night’s rest was surely needed and this bed could provide it all. As you shifted to find a comfortable position, your shirt rose up in the friction exposing the black lining of your panties.

Duncan caught a glimpse of it.

His eyes darkening.

“Could've worn something warmer.” Duncan said, not looking at you. A scowl made its way across your face as you sat up, body strength on your palms. Leaning forward made your loose shirt fall by your sides, cleavage revealed.

“You got a problem with everything, old man.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that your only retort? Calling me old?” He snapped, staring at you. For a moment his gaze lingered to your lips and then back up to your face. Eyes filled to the brim with frustration and something – dark too. Lust or maybe anger.

“Are you not old? I bet you can't even get it up anymore.” You chuckled and that seemed to have crossed the line. Duncan reached for you, hand entangling in your hair. You felt him tug on the roots and pull you closer, face only a mere inches away from yours.

Your breath hitched.

Fighting him right now could get really dirty and you wanted to see how far Duncan was willing to go. His action only working to entice you. “You really should watch your damn mouth, little girl. I don't take nicely to such disrespect.”

You let out a chuckle. “Accept it. You cannot get it up, old man.”

Duncan’s fist tightened, nostrils flaring at your impolite words. You stared at him, your tongue slithering out like an enticing snake and running across the plump of your lips in an attempt to seduce him. “Or can you? I've heard older men fuck better. Is that true, Duncan?”

Duncan growled.

He tugged you down, to between his legs. Duncan nuzzled your face against the tent in his trousers. His bulge protruding as he shoved your face against it. “Does that look like I can't get it up, little girl?”

You shook your head slowly, hands hastily moving to pull down his trousers, paired with his briefs. His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face and a soft gasp escaped your lips. It was big — fucking massive and you hadn't expected a man of Duncan's age to have such a big cock. Precum sheened over his tip.

It was thick and you knew the pain of the stretch inside you would be delicious. Veins ran from its base, disappearing underneath the pink tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, fingers gently wrapping around the girth.

A sweet hiss fell from Duncan’s lips.

You parted your lips and pushed out your tongue, running it in little licks over his tip, managing to taste his salty precum. Duncan’s breath grew heavier along each lick — chest moving in a slow rhythm.

His fingers still drowned in your hair. Duncan tugged harder, an indication for you to pick up. So you did, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking it in, taking his fat cock all the way into your tight mouth until it had fully disappeared. You could feel it slip past the little uvula hanging in the air of your mouth, the warm flesh feeling like embers over your tongue.

“Jesus, you're pretty good at taking a cock.”

A giggle almost slipped — you attempted to breath through your nose and salvated around his throbbing dick. Your eyes met Duncan’s drowsy ones and as you whimpered, the vibrations from your throat shot straight through his abdomen.

His hands guided down your head furthermore, burying your nose into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

Duncan pulled you up, only to slam his cock back inside your mouth. A repetitive action, his thighs shaking and flexing whenever the wetness and constriction of your throat welcomed him. Panting like a hungry beast, he fucked himself into your mouth.

Hips snapping up in desperate thrusts to gain his release.

“Good little girl. This is what your mouth is made for—what it's supposed to do.” He grunted when your struggles began in the form of small hands lightly punching at his thick thighs. “You're only a cocksucking little bitch.”

Tears stung your eyes from how horribly you gagged all over him. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while moaning out loud. Divulging his pleasure to the people outside the hotel room.

Duncan loved the way you gagged around his cock. Tears sitting prettily in your beautiful eyes and he couldn't help but feel himself come near at the sight of you, this weak and pathetic underneath him. If he'd known sharing a bed would lead to this, the man would've given up in one single breath.

“Fuck—fuck. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close, my little girl. Keep suckin’ my cock like that, like the filthy bitch you are.” Duncan was vocal.

That was for sure and you enjoyed every bit of it.

After fucking your mouth for quite some time, Duncan finally shot loads of warm fluid down your throat. You struggled, kicking and thrashing everywhere but he didn't let go. He only continued to ride out his orgasm, feeling his own cock lubing up in the process of fucking his cum down your throat.

When he let you go, you promptly pulled back with a loud gasp. A sharp intake of oxygen. Cum and saliva dribbling in rivulets down your chin, tears wetting your cheeks. Duncan watched as your tits rose up and down, bouncing down slightly whenever you dragged in air.

Your eyes widened when you saw how Duncan’s soft cock suddenly became hard again, rising up. Curved and strong — tip caressing his abdomen. It was embarrassing for you because you'd called him out for not being able to get it up, here he was. In his late fifties, ready to fuck you dumb.

“Fuck you lookin’ at? Hop on.”

Your pussy throbbed. An insatiable ache that only his delicious cock could satisfy. You tossed one leg over his waist, while holding his cock with your hand. Aligning it at your hole, you finally sunk down on it. Duncan and you groaned in unison.

Feeling his cock enter you was such an indecipherable feeling. He filled you all the way, his tip reaching your womb almost. You placed both your palms over his chest, running your nails into the grey and black hair on his chest. Your lips parted, eyes rolled as you fully consumed him.

“Such a hungry fuckin’ pussy you've got. Taking me all the way in.” Duncan raised his hand and smacked your ass. “Cmon, move now.”

You obliged — beginning to grind your hips. In a slow back and forth rhythm. Duncan’s head was thrown back, pressed into the headboard while both his hands settled at your hips. Helping you grind down on his cock. You didn't even want to move, that's how much you fucking relished in him filling you up but then he lifted you, slamming you back down on his cock.

“Yeah, just like that.” He growled when you started to slide up and down. Hopping like a damn bunny in heat, feeling his veiny thick cock rub at your sensitive walls. Your whines were loud and prominent through the room as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders.

Lips agape and hair wet from the shower, it made you appear ten times prettier than you were. Duncan’s cock only hardened more, if possible inside you. The tremor in your whole frame was slowly becoming known to him and he scoffed, a breathty grunt leaving his lips. “Can't even fuck yourself on my cock and you have the audacity to speak to me with disrespect.”

“I'm sorry,” came a whimper from you. Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down into tiny slits.

Duncan helped you ride him, both his hands tugging at the flesh of your rear. He drove himself into you, in and out, in a fast rhythm. It was all too hot. Your body felt like it was boiling up and Duncan’s hands moved up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples.

Dark brows furrowed and lips fallen apart, he let out aggressive grunts like some hounddog that couldn't have enough of you. “Pathetic whore. Jus’ a pathetic little whore who needed to be fucked. If—fuck,” he grunted, balls throbbing. “If you craved a cock this badly, you could've said so.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and walls gripped him like a vice. Duncan leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood. He continued making you ride him, loving the way your tits bounced in his hands. A feeling driving him delirious.

The sound of skin against skin grew.

A languorous heat spread in your lower stomach. An indicator of your upcoming orgasm. Duncan’s hands kept playing with your soft mounds — his teeth littering bite marks at where your neck and shoulder became one and the way his hammered his cock inside your cunt was enough to push you over the edge.

Your arms flew to his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Duncan, ‘m gonna cum. ‘m so close, please.”

He looked up at you, loving the warmth you produced when you'd clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He pressed his lips over yours, something he himself was in shock at. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, sucking on it and as the kiss warmed, so did your cunt.

Duncan groaned as you slammed down on his cock repeatedly. A strong and soul chilling orgasm tearing through you. Eyes rolling back to your head and whimpers of sensitivity echoing in the room. He held you tightly as you came, enjoying how your little frame suffered from convulsions under his hold.

Duncan didn't give you a chance to even register your climax. He'd already began thrusting up your cunt, arms wrapped around your waist in a bone crushing hold. “Wait—wait! I still— oh my god.”

He didn't let you relax.

After all he too needed to cum.

Duncan could feel the throbbing sensation in his balls and the pulsating of his fat cock inside you. With a few, harsh strokes delivered inside your pussy, he released himself and your head buried in his neck from the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hot cum shot out, rope by rope, decorating the gummy walls of your pussy.

You could feel all of it.

Heightened sensitivity.

Your body went limp over his, leisurely dropping and Duncan held you. Both of you panted like wild animals who'd just got done finishing their preys. Your breathing was uneven and your throat was parched. Duncan heaved out, his low groans sending waves of sparks to your aching cunt again.

Thick fingers running up and down your bare back, with his other hand he caressed your hair. He wasn't rough when it came to sex but at times he felt like destroying your cunt whenever you'd speak to him in that stuck up, vicious little tone.

Duncan’s hand that played with your hair suddenly tightened, fingers pulling on the soft locks and you whimpered.

You were thrown off his lap on the bed. Appalled at his actions, you turned to look at him but Duncan only pressed your head further into the bed with his large hand. His other hand pulled your lower body, bending your knees.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You gasped out, the question coming out muffled.

Duncan let out a chuckle. “You thought we were done, hm? There ain't no way we're done with one round, little girl.”

You couldn't even resist as Duncan sunk his cock into you. Back arching and spine curving, a muffled whine of need and satisfaction echoing. He held you down as he thoroughly fucked you, his hips colliding with yours. Balls hitting the swollen stripe of your cunt.

“Look at you.” His bated breath increased your libido, as you were also speechless at his. Duncan was still ready to go on meanwhile you were struggling with staying still. Tired and drained from all his harsh strokes.

His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you up to his chest, locking you firmly. Duncan pulled out then pushed right back into you, his tip reaching your womb. A small bulge forming on your stomach everytime he slammed back into you. Tears of overstimulation dropped like pearls on your face and Duncan moaned in your ear.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He praised.

Your walls clenched.

Duncan hissed and felt his strokes become steady, dragging across your spongy walls to feel them. Then he climaxed inside you, filling you up again once more. This time his cum dripped out of you, making a mess on his own cock and your thighs. Pussy glistening from the slick, cum and your own climax.

Duncan pulled out and pushed you back down on the bed.

He also collapsed next to you.

Chest rising up and down, breath a broken rhythm. You sniffled into the pillows, thighs shivering the overstimulation you'd suffered at the hands of Duncan. He wasn't as cruel as you'd depicted him to be. Duncan reached for you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping an arm around your waist.

His large arm covering the expanse of your chest.

“Sorry, little girl. You piss me off a lot.” He whispered and you flipped to face him, burying your face in his chest. “And I'll continue to piss you off.”

Despite the fact that he'd pretty much blown your back out twice, you still held on to your defiant traits. He let out a laugh, reaching over to grab a cigarette and light it up.

Dragging in a smoke, he brought the cigarette to your lips and your parted them, allowing him to settle it between them. You pursued his actions and released the smoke through your nostrils.

“That feels good.”

Duncan smiled. “Better than my cock?”

“Oh shut up.”

#duncan vizla smut #duncan vizla #duncan polar #polar fanfic #polar smut #mads mikkelsen #mads mikkelsen smut #duncan oneshot #mads mikkelsen fanfic #Duncan vizla x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

The Devil Wears Armani 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re the CEO’s new PA and you find the work too much to handle. (short!reader)

Characters: Tony Stark, this reader is known as Georgie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

—posting to the correct blog lol—

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

The appletini at girls' night does little to ease you through a restless night. You’re not a traveller. You’ve never flown before. The only reason you have a passport is it was required for the job. You didn’t expect to actually use it.

You give into consciousness around 3am and double check your bag for everything you need. You forego your usual coffee as you fear an anxious bladder adding to your addled state. You still can’t figure out why Mr. Stark told you to come along. You don’t have anything blocked into his calendar. He’s had weekend meetings before but you usually pop into zoom to take notes and nothing else.

You spare the fare for a cab as the streetcar isn’t in service yet and you don’t feel like venturing into the underground at this hour. The ride is swift in the dead streets of the city. You don’t think you’ve ever seen them so empty.

You arrive at the airport and realise you’re missing a very important piece. A boarding pass? Terminal information? Any sort of direction to find where you need to be. Well, it never hurts to ask for help even if you don’t get it.

You enter and go to the counter. The woman behind it looks tired as dark rings stain her sockets and she fixes her smile to greet you. You nervously clench your jaw and exhale through your nose.

“Hi, I... I’m supposed to be flying, er, private? I work for Tony Stark?” You creak out through your dry throat. You need water.

“Mr. Stark?” She lowers her brow, “do you have proof of employment?”

“Erm, yeah,” you unhook your keyring from your purse and shove it towards her. Your company ID is hooked onto the cluster of novelty attachments and keys.

“I need to make a call,” she says as she examines your identification.

Great.

You bob nervously on the other side of the counter as the attendant speaks quietly into the speaker. Your phone buzzes and you jingle the keys as you find it. Stark has sent you a simple message; ‘Terminal 1, tarmac. Now.’

As you peek up over the counter, the woman hangs up. “You need to head up to Terminal 1. Find an employee there, in a white shirt like mine, and show them this.” She kits a few keys and her printer grinds with great effort. She hands you a boarding pass but most of it is empty. There’s only a code at the bottom.

You thank her and head off. You scramble through security, walking through the scanner as your bag rides the conveyor through and x-ray. You retrieve your things on the other side and run off to reach Mr. Stark before he gets too impatient. He’s probably already agitated.

You check your watch. It’s only 5:01am. You’re on time, right?

You follow the signs to terminal one and find a large man standing by a ramp entrance. You approach him and show him the pass. He points you to another employee at the far end as he talks over his walkie talkie to them. You cross the tiled floor to meet the man and he beckons you towards another ramp.

You’re led down to the tarmac and left to shuffle across it on your own. You’re only told to approach big jet waiting by a tower set of stairs. There’s an attendant at the bottom who greets your brightly and you show the pass again.

“Mr. Stark is expecting you. May I take your bag?” She offers.

“No thank, I can handle it,” you nod and lift the bag off its wheels.

You climb a stair at a time and pass another attendant at the top. She directs you to leave your bag in the front carriage and you roll it behind the wall of webbing there. You turn to the ivory curtain and peek through tentatively. The movement of fabric draws Mr. Stark’s gaze from his phone.

“Get in here,” he demands, “about time, George. I was about to fall asleep.”

You push through and near him, “sir, did you need coffee?”

“They got the long-legged ones for that,” he waves away your offer with his lecherous allusion to the pretty, tall attendants. “Sit.”

You look at the chair on the other side of the table, across from him, and you hesitate. You lower yourself into the cushy seat and cross one leg over the other, your foot bouncing anxiously. You clutch your hands together and stare at Mr. Stark.

“You look tired as hell,” he cackles.

“Sir, it’s early.”

“Ah, don’t let that ruin an all-inclusive. Tell me, Georgie, a girl like you, are you jet-setting every weekend? You got billionaires flying you to the Caribbean on the reg? Didn’t think you were the popular type.”

“No, sir, I--” you try not to wince at his insinuation. You are all too aware that you’re on the bottom rung of the ladder he sits atop of. “Thank you for this. It’s very nice of you to bring me along.”

“You are very welcome,” he says smugly, “move.”

He points to the seat next to him.

“Oh, uh,” you pull your hands apart and push yourself up with the armrests, “sorry.”

He grunts, irritated, and signals with two fingers. As an attendant approaches, you sidle around the table and in front of Stark to get to the other seat. You feel a brush on your thigh but ignore it. It’s a tight squeeze.

He asks for an espresso as you lower yourself down. He reaches over and pinches the fabric of your pants, just at the top of your knee. He sniffs.

“This isn’t very Caribbean-friendly. You’re gonna sweat your tits off,” he derides.

You try not to show your embarrassment, ignoring the urge to cover your chest at his comment. Out of habit, you put on your usual attire. A cardigan, a tidy blouse, and slacks. He huffs again and tugs at the sleeve of your cardigan.

“Get rid of this,” he demands.

“Oh, uh...” You sit forward as you undo the single button and you shrug out of the wool. He swipes it away and tosses it on the floor.

The attendant returns with his espresso and gathers up your cardigan as you send her an apologetic look. Stark takes his coffee and tastes it before setting it on the table. He turns to you and clucks again. You let out a squeak as he reaches to pop the top button of your blouse, then the next. You flatten yourself to the seat helplessly.

“Better, gotta let those things breathe,” he winks and sits back with a smirk.

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #the devil wears armani #series #drabble #au #bad bosses #iron man #avengers #mcu #marvel

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turtletaubwrites · 4 months ago

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 30

I’m Coming for You

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7249

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: You spend some quality time with your family while you learn about the wedding plans. The boys make some plans of their own.

Author's Note: Thank you for waiting, and for all the love on the chapters! Love y'all so much!! 🙏🏼💜😭 There is a flashback scene within this chapter that involves another panic attack/dissociation episode similar to what we've seen from the reader before. I'll bracket it with these symbols: ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Drugs, Masturbation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

Fighting the urge to ask how Y/N was doing had Crocodile tapping the side of his hook against his thigh, harder and harder, until his little prince shot him a look. He cleared his throat, downing his scotch before interrupting the other men in their various perches around the suite.

The night had dragged on. Dinner, drinks, then more drinks, had all passed while the four men reviewed every note, rehashed every theory, and tried not to ask Buggy about his star.

“Couldn’t get anything on the doctor tonight, but I put out some feelers. Let me know if you hear anymore details–”

“You got it boss,” Buggy agreed, although his voice wasn’t holding much. Adrift and empty while he laid on his back, his floating hands held page after page above his tired eyes.

The scarred man took a breath, pushing himself up from the loveseat to head toward his dresser, removing his hook before he kept hitting things with it.

“I also offered some former officers a position in the Guild if they can bring us any useful intel on him or Sylvad.”

“Officers,” Mihawk asked, appearing beside the larger man to take over unbuttoning his silk vest.

Crocodile felt his lips twitch up, the hint of a smile as the swordsman fussed over him.

“Yeah. I didn’t wanna bring them on after… I’m glad Daz Bonez followed me here. He’s shown skill, competence, loyalty.”

The ex-Warlord let out a sigh when long, wicked fingers traced over his now bare chest.

“Galdino’s shown that he might not be as much of a coward as I’d thought, but I still wouldn’t send him out without a partner. As for the rest of the Baroque Works failures, I would have happily forgotten about that worthless cafe of theirs if we didn’t need all the help we can get right now.”

“How big of you,” Mihawk purred, his teasing eyes bringing a laugh from his frightening business partner.

The swordsman felt drugged. The guilt, pain, and rage he carried for his tortured darling filled his body every moment, but there was something else pouring in.

He was high.

Mihawk had always taken care of his lovers. It made wrecking them magnificently more fun, but now he couldn’t seem to stop. Today, he’d drawn smiles and laughs from his three lovers while they all fought for his fourth, and each moment steadied him.

This is what I was running from? Caring if someone else is happy?

His reverie crashed hard, the next words uttered in the room bringing them all to attention.

“I’m gonna call Sylvad in the morning,” Shanks announced, leaving his seat on the coffee table to join his clown on the floor, while the eyes of the Cross Guild burned into him.

“I think I’ll—“

“We don’t have enough yet, moron,” Buggy scolded, shoving him a little harder than he meant to. “Star’s gotta have a reason. She would have told me… Your stupid card is our only opening right now. Don’t be a fucking idiot and give away our best shot.”

“I know, Bugs, but I–”

“I agree,” Mihawk cut in, all of his feelings brought back to her, and the danger and distance between them. “We can’t waste that opportunity until—“

“Why now?”

Crocodile’s voice made the room pause, that deep, gravely sound doing almost as much as the blunt, yet inquisitive tone. He stared at the prettyboy, giving him a chance to explain.

Shanks straightened up, offering the larger man a crooked smile for the chance to prove himself.

To make it up to her.

“Sylvad’s bringing all those men there to marry Y/N,” he started, smoothing his hand over Buggy’s arm when his clown started grumbling. “Sounds like he wants to make some sort of deal, wants powerful ‘friends.’ What if—“

“Of course,” breathed the swordsman, dangerous eyes flicking between the other men.

“Can you do it, Red Hair,” Crocodile urged. “Can you play the villain?”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Buggy growled. He’d finally heard his star move. It felt like hours had passed after dinner, but she’d stayed so quiet.

She hadn’t been sleeping, she’d just been... still. It had been wearing on him, but now Buggy could hear her body moving around, slowly, but more than that frozen emptiness that had chilled his heart.

He could hardly think in the room he was in, until Shanks grabbed his shoulder, drawing him in with those soft, brown eyes.

“I’m gonna charm the sea beast, Bugs,” he whispered, fear and hope tingling through him. “I’ll make him want to cut deal with me, so he’ll let me—“

“MARRY HER,” the clown almost screamed, everything in this room becoming crystal fucking clear. “You’re gonna marry my—“

“Bugs, baby, hey. We’re gonna get her out of there before the wedding, okay,” Shanks soothed, trying to exude the confidence he used to have. This Emperor of the Sea didn’t think he’d return to his old self until he saw Y/N’s empty eyes filled with light again.

Those empty eyes had branded guilt onto his heart, and he refused to mope about it for the rest of his days. He found Crocodile waiting for him again, so he answered that frightening man’s question.

“I was already a villain to her,” he confessed, knowing that he couldn’t stop now. Nothing would stop him from fixing this. From protecting her.

“I owe her,” Shanks vowed, showing Buggy the truth in his eyes. “I’ll do anything to get her back. Even become a monster.”

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Waking up.

You were not a fan.

Servants were already milling about in your room, and you wished that screaming at them was an acceptable hobby. Instead, you gave in, letting strangers dress you, do your hair, your makeup.

The way he liked it.

“Pros and cons,” you muttered to yourself while they ushered you through gilded corridors. They fucking announced you at the door, as though your own family didn’t know your name.

“Oh, Y/N,” your mother cried out while she ran to you, gripping you into a tight hug. Her wheezing sobs had you shushing and soothing her until you pulled away with a strained smile and empty words, finding your seat next to Kat.

Uncle Cedrick sat at the head of the table, with your mom and sister on either side, lording over the little family he owned. He smirked at your mom while she settled beside him, before playing with you all again.

“You can’t begin to imagine what you’ve put your mother through all these months, dear niece,” he scolded, slow to pull his gleaming eyes from her to you. “Making her worry all this time, and now you hardly have a word to say?”

“I…”

I’m out of fucking practice. It’s time for the less fun kind of pretend.

Forever.

“I’m just so glad you’re home safe, sweetie,” Mom crooned, still dabbing at her eyes, though she was already quiet. Uncle Cedrick never did care for crying in any of his massive homes, even though he enjoyed the lead up so very much.

“It’s just as the doctor warned, Delaine,” your uncle cautioned, smiling at you over his latte. “Your daughter isn’t well. We should always be prepared for this sort of selfish behavior.”

“Can we not? I haven’t even finished my coffee yet,” Kat sneered while she grabbed a piece of toast. She spread the jam thinly, yet evenly, over the bread how you liked, before forcing it into your hand, glaring until you took a bite.

Don’t cry.

Eating when you were upset was hard, the heavy emotions seeming to take over your body. You never wanted to be weak, so you made sure to eat enough, even when your appetite was gone, but sometimes a reminder helped.

Your sister had always been your reminder.

“Thank you,” you breathed before giving Delaine Sylvad your full attention. “I’m sorry I put you through so much, mom. I–”

“Y/N, I’m more concerned about what you put yourself through,” she began, that familiar tone of a ‘disappointed Mom scolding,’ about to play out. “I know you’ve always run from your blessings, but to put yourself in harm’s way like that? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“She’s perfectly fine,” Uncle Cedrick cut you off, patting her shoulder. “Our little Y/N seemed to have charmed those filthy pirates. I can’t imagine how.”

“Apologies for the interruption sir.”

A practically quivering servant had stepped up beside him, and your uncle just stared, a maniacal tilt to his head while he watched the man sweat.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, sir. However, you've received a call. It’s one of the names on your priority list–”

“Are they still connected,” Uncle asked, already pushing away from his half eaten breakfast to follow the servant out of the room. He didn’t say goodbye, except to poke his head back through the door before leaving. “Delaine, I expect you’ll get your daughter prepared for polite society? Gods know you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

The whole concept of marriage is fucking stupid. Just another shackle the World Government tries to tie us all down with.

Gotta keep the shidiots all bored, and struggling to pay rent for the shoeboxes they’re allowed to fuck their legally recognized, orgasm partners in, otherwise they might have too much fucking fun.

And too much fun usually means hopping on a pirate, or their ship. Whichever gives the better ride.

Buggy almost made himself laugh with his internal rant, but Shanks’ confidence, and the almost nauseating amount of beauty on that earnest face, sobered the clown. No matter how hard he tried, his mind refused to stop blaring those words.

Marry her. Marry her? He’s gonna marry her. She’s gonna marry… My star wouldn’t want... It’s just pretend. Doesn’t matter. Marriage is pointless anyway, it doesn't mean anything.

He gave his old friend a weak smile, lost in those faint, faraway sounds. She was so quiet, yet he could hear endless shuffling, the soft sounds of moving fabric, drawers opening and closing, and that anxious heartbeat.

The clown wanted to ignore his own feelings until he got her out. He wanted to be her hero, and nothing else.

The red haired pirate had stolen one of his hands, that overwhelming charm spilling out while he pressed warm lips to gloved fingers. Buggy couldn’t stop the poison from filling his gut, and climbing up his throat like bile.

Shanks is the hero, not me.

Familiar jealousy turned rancid after all these years as it mixed with all the fear and guilt for the heartbeat in his head.

“If you marry my star, I’ll fucking skin you,” he whispered, trying not to break apart and float away.

“Buggy.” Shanks’ voice came out sweet and shocked, his face softening while he watched his lover struggle. “I fucked up, Bugs. I hurt you, and I hurt Y/N. Please, let me help her. It’s your call, alright?”

Old pain had poured into new wounds, but as the clown counted to ten, he remembered her smile.

You love me, don’t you, star? I’m sorry, baby. I almost forgot.

“Don’t fuck it up, idiot,” Buggy ordered, the gleam in his eyes making Shanks’ breath catch. He almost sobbed with relief when his clown accepted his warmth, his touch, his kiss.

Crocodile and Mihawk had already climbed into bed, sitting up against the headboard while they re-read the pile of notes, although the view had distracted them both. Mihawk curled up against that massive chest, the two villains watching their clown kiss the hero.

“Why don’t we get some rest,” Crocodile rasped, setting the rumpled pages on the nightstand. “Now that we have something we can fucking do tomorrow, we should get our heads right.”

“Come on, baby,” Shanks hummed. The effort it took to pull away from that kiss left him shaky, but he couldn’t be selfish again, not if he was going to get her back. “Gotta keep your strength up for her.”

Buggy let himself be dragged toward the bed, let Shanks help him undress, settling under the covers. Soothing hands, soothing whispers, too much.

“She’s still awake,” he breathed. Mihawk turned to ice against his chest, the room once again filling with the unspoken demands to share her every moment. The clown groaned, fighting not to break into pieces to escape the comfort of that massive bed.

It shouldn’t have felt comfortable without her warmth beside him.

“I can’t sleep yet, what if she–”

“Bugs?”

I know that breathing.

The clown couldn’t keep track of the barrage of emotions those tiny sounds burned him with. She was so muffled, so quiet. So fucking perfect.

But she didn’t know he was listening.

“What’s wrong,” Mihawk demanded softly, this helplessness making him sick.

“I…” Buggy was dizzy with need and guilt, disgusted with how eager his body was for his star in her lonely prison.

“Buggy,” Crocodile breathed, violence seeping through his skin. “Tell us what’s happening.”

It’s wrong. I won’t use her. Won't hurt her. Can’t–

‘Buggy…’

“Star,” he cried out, reacting to her strangled moan as though it were his body bringing that beautiful sound from her lips. His back arched almost painfully, eyes rolling white, as need pulsed through his veins. He was achingly hard, and so fucking ready to take care of her, to give her what she needed. “Fuck, baby…”

Then he let out a frustrated sob, covering his face with his hands while his other lovers reached for him.

“What’s–”

“I believe our little rabbit is taking care of herself,” Mihawk whispered, soothing the larger man’s growing anger, leaving silver eyes to blink slowly at their little clown.

“She’s so quiet,” Buggy trembled, his lips and jaw tensing while he swallowed the heat in his throat. “She’s all alone. I shouldn’t be–”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Shanks rasped, breathing along Buggy’s neck while he pulled his clown against him. “You’re gonna save her. She said your name, didn’t she, Bugs?”

“B-but she doesn’t…”

“Breathe, little clown,” Crocodile’s deep voice washed over Buggy while his large fingers brushed the hair from his face.

Mihawk rested his cheek against Buggy’s chest, feeling the rhythm of that frantic heart against his skin while he fought not to pull closer, to reach for the need he knew he’d find.

“It’s not right.”

“I know, Bugs,” Shanks purred, slipping into the voice that Buggy could never resist, and just the sound of it brought a little whine from the clown’s throat. “You’ll say sorry after you save her, alright? But she just said your name. Your pretty star still wants to please you, Buggy. Remember when she said that? When I made her come on my fingers, but she only had eyes for you? She’s so good for you, huh, baby?”

“F-fuck,” Buggy gasped, finally gripping his swollen cock while he listened to Y/N’s lovely breath.

I’ve got you, star. I’ll help you. I’ll make you feel…

He almost lost himself in it, until the sound of the nightstand drawer closing brought him back to reality. That lovely breath was far away from him, trapped in a cage.

“She craves you, Buggy,” Mihawk hummed. The swordsman pressed soft kisses against Buggy’s chest while he rolled onto his back, gasping when that sharp tongue teased around his nipples. The clown opened his mouth, but whatever he might have said faded away when Shanks grabbed his hand, making him fist his own cock again while hushed praises filled the air.

“Our sweet girl said no one can make her feel the way you can,” Crocodile rasped, tossing an extra towel to the other side of the bed. He spread his legs a bit, massaging his balls before slowly dragging his fingers up and down his length while he remembered that pretty show, and the mess he’d left on her perfect face. “Why don’t you tell us how you’re gonna take care of her when you bring her home?”

“What,” the clown choked out. Opening his eyes was almost as overwhelming as the distant, needy sounds he was hearing. Three, dangerous lovers watched him while they held themselves, gorgeous, heavy cocks freed to the air. “What are you doing?”

“She needs you, Bugs,” Shanks smirked, scraping his bottom lip through his teeth at the delicious sight before him. “That means you need to take care of yourself, alright? Now, do you wanna tell us how you’re gonna make your star come, or do you want one of us to guess?”

Y/N had paused a few times, muffled breaths slowing before her heart fought for relief. Buggy had to get to her, to save her from that shitty, suffocating life. Had to make his star laugh, and smile, and scream, until she was the last fucking star in the sky.

“Sh-she’s so sweet,” Buggy groaned, a collective sigh filling the air as his consent let them all give in. “Gonna suck her clit like candy. Her pretty thighs squeeze my head so fucking hard when I do that.”

“Fuck,” Mihawk rasped. His mind’s eye made the vision so clear that he begged for more. “What next?”

Buggy caught those wild, golden eyes, and Y/N’s needy moans set him free.

“Then you’re gonna hold her down for me, and choke her while I fuck her with my tongue. She tastes even sweeter the deeper you get.”

“You fuck our girl so well, little clown,” Crocodile purred over Mihawk’s desperate whine, gifting Buggy with a hungry smile, “and she loves watching you get fucked. Her sweet, little pussy squeezed my cock so fucking hard when you let this one tear you open.”

Buggy and Mihawk twitched while delicious memories on this giant bed tore through them.

“She’s close,” he shivered, chills rolling with pleasure across his body. “She’s fucking perfect. I don’t care where we are, when I save my girl, I’m gonna fuck her into the ground, gonna make her pretty eyes cross, gonna fuck– fuuuck… Gods, star…”

Each of these men found their pleasure in their own hands, yet the sounds and memories of each other were so good that they almost went too far, but she was always there.

Messy, noisy relief was found as four, sticky men kissed the taste of sweat from each other's skin before towels were passed around. Yet, the relaxation those blissful moments brought was tainted by her absence.

Y/N's men fell asleep in each other’s arms, but knew that they’d never truly relax again. Not until their numbers girl was curled up between them.

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

“Mom, please.”

“It’s just dinner, sweetie."

“I don’t want to have dinner with another creep,” you spat, pulling away from her fingers while she toyed with your hair.

A familiar rage burned through you, that you were learning fast how to swallow down.

But not fast enough.

“They’re not all creeps,” Mom sighed, and her voice was still like nails on a chalkboard against the overwhelm inside you since Dad… since your world changed. “That’s why I'm helping you with this, honey. I’m helping you look for a husband that will treat you well, so you can be taken care of.”

“I’m sixteen,” you fumed, disgust making you snarl at her. “I don’t want to live your boring life. It’s not my fault that dad never loved you guys, so why don't—“

A soft, wounded noise snapped your attention to the open doorway, your little sister’s wide eyes going watery. Shame doused your rage faster than a tub of ice water.

You ran, chasing her dainty steps through the hall until she ducked into a spare room, and you caught the door with your foot before it could slam shut.

“I’m so sorry, Kat, I didn’t mean it!” Self loathing dragged you down, fighting between panic at the pain in your little sister’s eyes, and the nausea that your selfishness had stirred up.

“Don’t lie,” she quivered, clearly holding in her sobs to keep that fierce look on her face. “And I don’t want you to marry one of those jerks either.”

“Thank you,” you choked out a laugh after you closed the door, plopping down in front of her. She joined you on the floor, sad sisters hiding in another darkened room. “We don’t need to live like mom, okay? There’s a whole other world out there. No more leeches.”

Kat snorted at your favorite nickname for them. It became more disgustingly accurate the more time you spent with those so-called suitors, and their pushy families.

At least there was one other person in your world that saw them for what they were, but she sighed again, her hands going limp in yours.

“Dad did love you though,” Kat breathed. The words crushed your heart, and that cruel truth was a stain that could never be wiped clean. “Maybe someone else will love you too…”

Exhaustion ate at you, no more energy to try to shape the world the way you needed it to be.

“Maybe. I don’t know who could love an annoying sister like me though.”

“Shut up,” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose at you. You fell into being a sister again, and the desire to make things a little better for her sake woke you up. “Besides, if you don’t like your date, you can just bore him with math problems, or break his ankle when you dance, or—“

“Hey,” you laughed, trapping her arms in a struggling hug. “Speaking of math problems, don’t you have that test coming up?”

“Ugh, you’re so lame,” she teased, crawling out from your grasp to open the door, blinding you with the light from the hallway. “Come on. I’ll read you my practice test while mom does your hair, but only if you promise not to chew her face off.”

“Seems like a shit deal to me,” you smirked as you followed her out, chuckling at her panicked search for any ears that could have heard you speak so foul on such a lovely day.

“There you are, sweetie,” Mom hummed when you returned, with Kat already rattling off word problems at your side. You let her guide you, sitting you down in front of the vanity, while all of your edges went fuzzy.

Mom’s careful touch always made you look like a perfect, doll-like version of yourself before sending you out on a date.

Not really a date. More like a test drive for the hopeful buyer.

Your eyes got lost in the mirror, the image of a perfect doll reminding you of pretty boxes, all wrapped up.

“Unboxed,” a feral voice giggled, but you couldn’t pull yourself all the way back into the room to acknowledge the tension on their faces. All you could do was slump into the chair, mumbling about your pros and cons.

“Sis,” Kat whispered, and the part of you that was still aware floated above your shoulder, screaming at you to stop, to not let her see.

“Kat, go tell Oliver to fetch your sister’s tea, please.”

“But—“

“Gotta buy the doll before you take her out of the box.”

Your head lolled back with laughter now, missing some of the real world.

“Mom, why can’t she wait? It’s only been—“

“She’ll be fine, angel. Your sister just needs help. Don’t worry—“

“Don’t worry,” you cackled while you rubbed your hands over your face, smearing lipstick down your chin. "It’s just dolls! Just pretend. Just a brokendollbrokendoll. But mom’s got glue!”

Kat had more tears flowing down her cheeks, but you couldn’t stop yourself, until your mother’s soothing voice pierced through your heart.

“Y/N, sweetie. You’re not feeling well. Do I need to call for the doctor?”

You hadn’t come back, and you hadn’t gotten better, but you had gone quiet and still.

The way dolls are supposed to be.

The only movement you could manage was the slow, shallow breathing that kept you alive, until your mom brought spoonfuls of lukewarm tea to pour over your tongue, your body choosing to swallow.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Mom whispered while she cleaned up the mess you’d made of your face. “I just want you to be alright. Please, let me help you.”

A soft whine left your throat once you were able to look around, realizing that you’d missed when Kat had left.

“None of this is your fault,” Mom soothed, kissing your temple before laying a fresh coat of makeup on your skin. “But you’re not well, honey. You need to let people take care of you.”

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Shouldn’t I pick a spouse before I pick a dress,” you drawled, tracing your fingers over the rack of perfectly tailored wedding dresses your mom had ordered to be wheeled in.

Mom had declared that the suite across the hall from yours and Kat’s was to be wedding prep central, presumably so she could snatch you out of bed at a moment’s notice for whatever life altering decision was next on the list.

“I’d adore that, honey,” she frowned, holding up another pale shade of fabric against your skin. “I hope you’ll be taking your future seriously this time. I’m sure that we can find a good match for you. There’s a variety of suitors—”

Kat snorted, stepping out to spin in a gorgeous, bridesmaid dress.

“Your ‘husband catalog’ is on the dresser if you want to start there.”

“Can I have a drink first,” you joked, only breaking your heart a little bit more.

The pause surprised you, especially when Mom’s warm hand cupped your cheek.

“Why don't I order us some mimosas? This doesn’t have to be a chore, sweetie.”

“I… okay,” you breathed, wishing you could take all the comfort her voice promised, but it had been too long for that. Still, you were here. It was over.

“Come on, nerd,” Kat ordered after slipping out of the dress, and into a monogrammed robe to match yours, in an elegant shade of green, of course. “Let’s make some bar graphs, or would pie charts be better to rank the hottest hubby?”

“Shut up— what the fuck,” you gave a real laugh before picking up the heavy binder, flashing your eyes toward your mom while she walked toward the door. “How many suitors do I have?”

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she laughed, pausing to open the door and order drinks. A proud smile pulled at her lips when she joined you and Kat on the large couch, taking the binder from you. “It’s heavy because I gathered as much information as I could. You do have a lot to choose from though, plus there might be…”

Kat mirrored your exasperated look when Mom trailed off, and you cracked a smile.

At least I have Kat.

“There might be what,” Kat asked while you tried to hang onto as much lightness as you could.

“We have so much to take care of.” Mom shook her head, trailing her fingers over your book of buyers. “The banquet’s in two days, you'll be meeting most of your suitors then, although there might be a few newcomers that I haven’t had the chance to add to your list yet. They’ll all be spending time here, and most will be staying at the estate during the…”

You didn’t need to ask about her pause, as she cleared her throat, nodding at the violence in your eyes.

“It’s supposed to be fun, dear, it’s—“

Apparently you did need to ask.

“During the what, mom,” you waited, wishing the mimosas would hurry the fuck up.

“The games, sweetie,” she simpered, the words sinking in too slow. “Since they’re all here to compete for your hand, that makes it a game, doesn’t it? You have a month to pick your match, and they’ll—“

“Take turns playing with Uncle’s, little doll,” you spat, ripping the stupid binder from her careful fingers. “I’d like a break from you, mom. Kat will make sure I look for my new owner.”

“Sweetie, I don’t think—“

“You know, I still have to decide, right,” you purred, sick pleasure pouring through you while you threatened your mother. “You don’t get your inheritance unless I become the heir, and decide to release it to you. So why don’t you go get me my fucking drink, and then go back to following Uncle around like a trained dog. His favorite, little bitch still wants her own berry, don’t you, mom?”

Kat had gone still beside you, but said nothing, Mom’s gaze flicking uselessly between you.

“Y/N, I—“

“Sorry, Mom! You know how brides get,” you laughed, wicked and wrong. “Uncle ordered you to get me ready, so why don’t you fetch me my drink, and get the fuck out of my sight so I can focus? Maybe there’s someone else’s daughter you can whore out with all of your free time?”

She was shaking, but your mother was too good at pretending for you to read all of the emotions behind her wide, calculating eyes.

Mom stood gracefully, and almost made it to the door, before freezing at your icy voice.

“You know, mom, all these wedding jitters have been making me nervous. I’d feel a lot calmer if you tasted everything for me.”

“What are you—“

Delaine Sylvad turned to look over her shoulder, with not a drop of motherly concern on her face.

“I won’t be eating or drinking anything for the next month unless I watch you taste it first. You do want me to cooperate, right, mom?”

She nodded, but you looked down at the binder, flipping through the pages for a moment before glancing back up.

“Move along now. The bride is thirsty,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand. Your guilt was drowning under the sick satisfaction you felt at making that pretend smile leave the room.

“Sis…”

“I’m sorry, Kat,” you sighed, wishing you could have enjoyed your villainy without forcing her to see it.

“Don’t be,” she assured, scooting closer to look over the first dossier with you. “Mom deserved that.”

You couldn’t say 'thank you,' so you just leaned against her while your throat went hot, clearing the mist from your eyes before you could study the picture of the first potential husband.

“Hey, he’s cute,” Kat praised, snagging a notebook and pen from the coffee table. “Should we rank them on hotness first?”

“What are you talking about,” you snorted, pulling the image closer. “Look at his clothes! And what’s with his hair? He looks ridiculous!”

“Says the girl that fucked a clown— Oh my gods, I’m so sorry, Y/N! I shouldn’t have said that!”

“No, it’s okay,” you laughed, fidgeting with that heavy locket.

The bittersweet pain almost felt good, and you tried not to let the fact that he could still make you laugh make you cry.

“This guy’s got nothing on Buggy’s style though.”

“I missed you,” Kat confessed after joining your much needed giggles.

“I missed you too, sis. Help me find the least shitty leech?”

“No settling,” she ordered, thumping her fist on the heavy pages. “There has to be at least one Prince Charming in this giant book.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Flipping through the pages left you feeling empty, but not as horribly, painfully empty as you could have been in this calm moment.

“Mom said there might be more, too,” Kat soothed, that awkward lilt to her voice showing how hard she was trying to stay light for you. “Maybe your Prince Charming just isn’t on the guest list yet.”

The names you wanted to appear on that list echoed through your mind, and you had to hold your breath to stop the fantasies that would only make this harder.

“Two days until the banquet… let’s make some graphs.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“Good morning, Shanks. I didn’t expect pirates to be working so early.”

“Come on, Cedrick. Who said anything about working,” Shanks purred, propping his feet up on Mihawk’s desk. The lounge was empty, but he could practically feel those listening ears. “I’m just looking to make some fashionable friends, remember?”

The pleased laughter through the snail almost made Shanks gag. Buggy’s notes, and rage, and the emptiness in Y/N’s eyes, left this Emperor of the Sea almost paralyzed with guilt and disgust.

He had to get over it. Play the villain.

For her.

“I have to say, you have impeccable timing.”

“How’s that,” Shanks asked, his body tensing with anxiety, fighting to keep his voice loose.

“I’m holding an event in a couple of days,” Cedrick drawled, a rhythmic sound coming through the call, as though his fingers were tapping close to the snail. “It’ll be discreet, just a gathering of worthy friends. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the festivities, and we’ll have plenty of time to discuss what our friendship might entail… I’d be happy to host you if you can make it in time.”

“What’s the dress code? I’d hate to stand out—“

“I’m sure my tailors could whip something up for you,” he chuckled, both of their voices mixing like sweet, heavy cream. “What do you say, Shanks? Should I add you to the guest list?”

The red haired pirate couldn’t remember feeling this panicked.

He couldn’t seem too eager. Couldn’t risk him thinking he was too connected to the Cross Guild.

He couldn’t fuck this up.

“It’s in a couple of days, you said,” Shanks risked a muffled yawn. “That’s pretty last minute.”

“True,” Cedrick agreed lightly.

He gets everything he wants.

“But there’ll be booze,” Shanks teased, his voice promising things he never wanted to keep.

“But, of course,” Cedrick scoffed, sickly, sweet triumph in his words. “I treat my friends very well.”

“Looking forward to it,” the Emperor lied, grabbing a pen. “Where can I find you, friend?”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🔴🗡️~~~

Convincing the other men to give him privacy for the call took some doing, but given how raw everyone’s nerves were, Shanks was grateful they’d let him be. Mostly, he was just grateful that he’d succeeded.

“Where’s Buggy,” he frowned, charging back into the suite with multiple copies of Sylvad’s coordinates stuffed into his wrinkly pockets.

“Listening,” Mihawk sighed, nodding his head toward the door, toward the cat’s room across the hall he’d been holed up in. “Y/N's mother is preparing her for suitors today. Apparently, she’ll be meeting them all at a banquet in two days.”

“That’s—“

“Yes, excellent flirting,” the swordsman teased, his dangerous eyes too focused on their task to tear the man into delicious little pieces. “Now you just need to convince him that you’ll be the best nephew in law he could ever hope for.”

“You’re not in the race yet,” Crocodile reminded while he rubbed his palm over his face, blinking away the start of a headache. “We don’t know why he invited you. You can’t let on that you know anything about the wedding, or the will, or—“

“I know,” Shanks nodded, plopping into an armchair, “but something’s been bothering me…”

The other men raised eyebrows, but looked back at the fresh notes, new batches that Buggy kept tossing into the hall.

“Clearly he’s forcing her to marry someone that’ll cut him a good deal, but as soon as she marries, won’t she take over Sylvad’s as the heir," Shanks mused, tapping the pad of his thumb against his knee, frowning deeper with every new thought. "And her husband will get his own piece too, right? So why is Cedrick pushing for this? Isn’t he running the company now?”

“I don’t see Sylvad as the type of man to enjoy working under another person’s name,” Mihawk sneered into his espresso.

“If he is about to lose control of Sylvad’s, then he’ll be looking for a hell of a deal to make up for it,” Crocodile growled.

He needed to get some of this violence out soon.

“Exactly,” Shanks agreed while he leaned toward them, dropping the coordinates onto the table. “What the fuck do I have to offer that could compete with that?”

...

“Our girl didn’t act like she was off to lead an empire.”

Crocodile’s own voice was too much for him to listen to, so he let himself pace, this large suite still too small for him.

Buggy’s laughter through the hall had all three men tensing for danger, then just pausing to listen.

“Notes!”

Mihawk skirted around Crocodile’s pacing form to gather up the next pile of crumpled paper from the corridor. The golden eyed man let out what might have been a snort, handing the top page to Shanks before spreading them out on the table.

“I believe this one’s for you.”

~~~

PrinceCharming??

She really thinks there’s gonna

be a "Prince Charming" in

this group of ASSHOLES??!!

Oh Yeah!! !

Our ASSHOLE CHARMER!

You’ve got a hole month.

A Game? You can stay & play, and my star will fucking Kill it. maybe kill you, my babys so

My baby's got such

good style!!

✩

You MIGHT stand a chance.

~~~

“He seems to be in better spirits,” Shanks smiled, resisting the urge to go shower Buggy with affection, to make him laugh again.

“It sounds like our sweet girl showed her fangs today,” Crocodile purred. The thought of her fighting her battles alone was unacceptable, but Buggy’s messy note praising her vicious words filled him with a pride he needed to do something with, especially since he didn’t know what had happened yet.

“She’s afraid they’ll drug her food,” Mihawk reported, letting the larger man steal that particular note from his long fingers while they shook with rage. “My little bloodhound just coerced her own mother to be her poison tester.”

“What the…”

“All these worthless leeches will be fucking foie gras when I’m done with ‘em,” Crocodile cut in, rage practically burning the air around him. “Think they can use her, scare my sweet girl, TOUCH MY—“

“Tell me how to play the villain.”

Shanks stood between Crocodile and the patch of wall he’d been about to smash, as calm as a mountain against a storm of sand.

Mihawk held his breath while he waited for these larger than life men to wake up from their spell, and for whatever havoc they might wreak.

“So, the prettyboy needs a lesson from the monster, huh,” Crocodile finally let out a breath, still resisting the urge to punch the smirk off of that pretty face.

“I believe ‘Prince Charming,’ was the title,” Shanks laughed, relaxing when the veins on the ex-Warlord’s forehead started to shrink.

“Not according to our lovely clown,” Mihawk teased. He wasn’t sure what to do with the sight of his two daddy’s getting along, but he tried not to get distracted. Didn’t try hard enough. “You are our lovely ‘asshole charmer,’ remember?”

Something about the way his little prince could say such wicked, filthy things with such a straight face made Crocodile want to fucking squeeze him. Shanks joined him in surrounding their lovely swordsman, enjoying the laughter he and Buggy had drawn out, before reality crawled back into the room.

“This’ll need to be a short lesson,” Shanks warned. He smoothed out one of his notes with his fingers, tapping on the numbers that would lead him to their girl.

The Emperor of the Sea had his goal, and he knew where to go, yet this mission was unlike any he’d carried out before. How could he convince this rich piece of shit that he could offer him the best deal to marry his niece? What would his competition be offering up?

Shanks frowned at his wrinkly pants, hoping that he could lie, that he could pretend to be whatever level of asshole needed to get her out of there.

“How much time do we have,” Crocodile growled, eyeing the coordinates Shanks had smoothed out on the table.

"I should head out after lunch."

"For fuck's sake," the ex-Warlord laughed, wrapping his arm around Mihawk's shoulders before eyeing the prettyboy again. "Let's get started."

~~~🐊🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Adam was good company, but Buggy had to spend half the time writing his notes while floating against the wall or ceiling, since the cat went wild for the pen while frantic words covered the pages.

He quickly learned that if he didn’t tie up his hair, then his back and thighs would be sitting targets for sneak attacks. Those tiny daggers couldn’t pierce his skin, but he didn’t want to let out another embarrassing yelp like he had during the last ambush. So, the clown’s spare pens were shoved into the thick bun on the top of his head, and the more it came undone, the more the value of Adam’s company was called into question.

But then the cat would curl up beside him, and make cute, little twitchy faces while he slept.

“Shithead,” he breathed, scratching behind those furry ears while he waited for the Sylvad sisters to stop giggling, although he wished he could listen to that sound all fucking day.

The way her heart celebrated every time she made her bitch of a mother chug half of her drinks before accepting them made the clown itch to join her.

“I’ve got you, star,” he promised, picturing all the lovely, gruesome scenes. “We’re gonna make ‘em all pay.”

“This guy seems alright,” Kat approved, her voice close to his ear while they went through the binder together. “But boring, so…”

“I think that’s okay,” Y/N sighed, and something about her voice set Buggy on edge. “I wanted to escape. I was tired of being bored while I avoided all of this, but…”

“But what,” Kat asked, soft, waiting.

“It’s time for me to grow up,” his star declared, somehow sounding further away. “What if I already turned away a decent life because I didn’t want to be bored? Because I wanted…”

“Sis?”

“It’s over. There might not be a 'Prince Charming' in here,” she gave a cold laugh, a light knocking coming through before the sound of pages flipping, “but mom’s right about one thing. I need to take my future seriously. I have to marry one of these creeps, otherwise– I am marrying one of these creeps. And boring isn’t the worst trait a husband could have.”

No, star, you’re not gonna–

“Would it be weird for me to say, ‘you go, girl?”

“So fucking weird,” Y/N laughed, groaning as their breath moved together. The sound of her hug seemed like a strange thing to recognize.

“Too bad there’s no measurements. I bet you wouldn’t mind a boring hubby with a monster cock.”

Y/N choked until Kat thumped her on the back a few times, while Buggy couldn’t decide if he wanted to hug or throttle her little sister for making her laugh, for helping her drift away.

“Pros and cons,” his star laughed when she could breathe again. Guilt ripped through Buggy when he realized that he felt closer to his love when she was falling apart. He needed her to be alright, needed her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

But he had to hear it.

The clown had to listen to her steady voice, and feel the warmth of her laughter, while she decided to move on.

I’m coming for you, baby.

“Let’s find me a husband.”

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Y'all... what have I gotten myself into?? 😅 Anywho, any guesses on the suitors? I've got my list and my outline, and I'm going BONKERS. I will say, I have a sometimes restrictive urge to keep things as close to canon compliance/possibility as I can, but I'm still super excited about our guest list 🤭

Part 31

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

136 notes · View notes

vienssunshine · 10 days ago

Text

It ain’t real cherry, but you still lick the wrapper

pairing: Makima x fem!reader nsfw: vaginal fingering, gore, death, manipulation, mind control, non-con wc: 4k author's note: Happy Halloween <3 description: Unable to get this woman off your mind, you resort to drastic measures

“It’s done.”

The man in front of you steeples his fingers, thick, hairy forearms making a triangle as his elbows rest on the desk that separates you. His eyes flick over your face, searching for an expression of relief, and when he can’t find a trace of one, he asks, “Are you not grateful for all of my hard work?”

“No, I am. I’m very grateful,” you hurry out, “I’m just…just trying to process it all.”

The story he's telling you—that she was shot in the back of the head this morning while on the train to work—is hard to believe. Such an unceremonious, mortal end for this mythical woman keeps this reported reality suspended in the air, unable to sink in.

“Well, whether you process it or not, you remember our deal, right?” The man glances down to the small section of your collarbone that your conservative neckline exposes.

There’s not much a mob boss could want because, with the gun devil on his side, he could bend most of civilization to his will. So, there was only one unique thing you could leverage in return for an assassination.

“I haven’t forgotten,” you say. “But…right now? Here?” The large, curtainless window to your right provides access to the beautiful city skyline, but also allows those populating the city’s towers a view of you in return. Looking around, you realize you’re close to the Public Safety Office, closer than you thought. You don’t want to think about how your co-workers will react once they hear of your boss’ death. Even worse is if they see how you’re about to pay to have made it happen.

“Right here. Right now,” he decides, and you press your lips together and swallow harshly. You knew what the trade off would be to get her out of your head, knew you were willing to do anything, so you’ll just have to accept your fate.

The man walks over to the small bar cart and pours two glasses of scotch. While taking a sip of his own, he extends the other glass. “To loosen you up, nervous girl.”

“Hah. Thanks.” You take the heavy glass in your hand and choke down the burning liquid in one big gulp. Hopefully it’ll make this easier.

With that in order, he gestures to your sweater, and you cross your arms over each other and dip your fingers under the hemline, childishly waiting a second for him to say nevermind, you don’t have to do this. But he doesn’t, so you pull the sweater up over your head and place it in a pile on the top of his wooden desk. You try to put the open window out of your mind.

“Very nice,” he says, chuckling, “I like what I see.” His gaze has an uncomfortable weight to it, and the way his eyes crawl over you makes you want to wrap your arms around yourself and cover up your exposed skin.

He takes a step towards you and after one big swig places his scotch on the desk next to your sweater. You force your body to keep still, to not flinch away when his big palm lands on your shoulder, giving it a rub before traveling down to your chest to your bra, squeezing your right breast in his palm.

“Time for this to come off too,” he says, grinning. You force a smile back, avoiding eye contact with the outline forming in his pants.

Your hands go around your back, fiddling with the fastening of your bra, and with one clasp left to undo you’re interrupted by the shrill ring of a landline.

The man swears, muttering that no one should be bothering him as he walks back around the desk and answers the phone.

“What?” he says gruffly. “Huh? Slow down—slow down I said—you’re not making any sense—she’s what?—but that’s—what?…hello?…hello?”

He waits a few more moments, listening, before putting the phone down. You place your hands in your lap, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “Is everything okay?” you ask.

He walks over to the window, his hand on his head. “I think…I think it’s best if you leave,” he says.

A calm voice from behind you says, “I hope this isn’t on my account.”

Your breath catches, choking your throat up. The owner of that voice is supposed to be dead.

You turn, slowly and mechanically, from the shell-shocked man by the window to the door, and you see the face you’ve seen too much for one lifetime. It’s Makima, standing in the doorway of the office, covered in blood.

“No…no…” you mumble, your fingers digging into your collarbone.

“It’s all right, it’s not mine,” she reassures, gesturing to her stained clothing.

“How did you get in here?” the mobster cries. “Where are my men?”

“They were kind enough to lead me right to you,” she answers, “Though I believe they now regret attempting to follow through on their boss’ orders.”

Fingers knot into your insides, squeezing your heart so tight every beat that radiates through your body is painful. You thought this was over, thought you were free.

Makima shuts the door behind her and looks down to you, still frozen in the seat of your chair. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him now. Please close your eyes.”

“What? Wait, don’t—” you gasp out, but she steps forward and places her slender fingers over your face anyway.

The man makes a strangled noise. “What…what are you…?” he chokes out. The question goes unanswered and his body thuds to the ground. When she removes her hand, you don’t open your eyes, this time of your own volition.

She hums, and another strange noise comes from the body, like the crushing of fleshy insides. Then she puts her hand on the back of your head, petting you in a gesture she must think is soothing. “It’s okay now, he’s gone.”

Gone, the only lifeline you had out of this, gone. There’s no one else you’re able to turn to; the henchmen of the gun devil, the most feared devil after the chainsaw devil, were the only people who could get rid of her. Though, those who tried are dead now. They have that in common with your hope of being released from your role as Makima’s plaything.

You open your eyes, fixing them on the corner of the desk in front of you. You don’t see the man anymore.

“It wasn’t very nice of you to try to get me killed,” she says, like she’s scolding a child. “And with the gun devil? You think that lowly of me?”

Her petting pauses, waiting for an answer.

You can’t get one out. “I–I…” There’s a puddle of blood spreading across the floor by the window.

“It’s all right, I’ll forgive you.” She turns your chair around effortlessly, forcing your gaze upon her glowing eyes. “This time.” She smiles.

Voice breathy, you ask, “What–what do you want from me?”

Makima places her hands on the arms of the chair and leans over you, claiming every inch of distance separating your bodies. You recede into the chair as far as you can, shaking. “I think that should be obvious by now,” she says.

“I don’t…” No, you can’t. You can’t do this again.

She moves into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale, and then sighs from the pleasure of your scent. “I don’t enjoy it when you play coy. Or when you act as if you do not like this as much as I do.” She combs your hair away from your face. “But I can’t get upset, you’re just so cute, my little hunter.”

Hunter. How you hate that word. How you hate your job—forced to live in fear of torture and death at the hands of devils. It was what your contract required: you either worked at the Public Safety Department killing devils or be executed as a traitor to the country. Not much of a choice at all. And you don’t even know how this happened. It was as simple as it was terrifying—you woke up one day contracted to a devil, the spider devil Princi. It was the day after that freak accident in the alley by your apartment. The day after you met Makima.

You retort, “I’m not your–”

But then her lips graze your neck, and your voice stops in your throat. Softly, gently, they roam up and down your rapid pulse point. Your stomach drops, because then it lights up within you, that frighteningly familiar warm sensation that begins to pour through your body. It’s like an initial stream of lava slowly rolling down the side of a volcano, a warning that there’s much more to still come.

No, it’s happening. She’s doing it again.

Your head rolls to the side, exposing more of your neck to her, and you let out a shaky breath as she crawls onto the chair, straddling your lap.

“There’s my good girl, letting me in,” she whispers before suckling on your neck, harsh enough to leave a bruise. The violence is lost on you, your arms circling around her waist, pulling her in tighter, wanting more.

You’ve got to get her off–

Makima’s arms lock around your shoulders, pulling you in tight so her breasts press up against yours, soft, warm. She nips at your neck again, drawing out a quiet moan from your throat.

It’s something about her, something that’s making you lose control.

Her fingers dip under your bra straps, slipping them off your shoulders. When she reaches behind your back and unclips your bra, there’s no embarrassment, no desire to cover up, and the garment falls to the side of the chair.

It’s been like this every time, something in your brain just goes slack when she asks anything of you, even worse when she touches you.

Makima kisses your neck one more time before her hands travel down to your chest.

You’re pretty sure that the first time it happened was the evening you stayed late to help her finish some reports. You don’t remember agreeing to help or actually working on any of the reports, just that you left her office with your underwear in your hand.

Makima runs her palms over your breasts, your nipples piquing up to meet her enticing touch.

That night hammered a tiny crack into your psyche, giving rise to insufferable symptoms you’ve had to live with ever since. The next few days after that night, every single thought that passed through your mind was about her.

She hums before leaning down to press wet kisses to your chest, fanning the flames licking up the sides of your stomach.

There were so many long, painful nights after you met Makima. You’d lie awake, your once comfortable bed hard as a rock, pouring over the small interactions you had with your boss that day.

Her tongue rolls over your nipple while her hand kneads your other breast.

There was nothing more important to pay attention to—often you were forgetting your own needs, going days without anything to eat or drink. You tried setting reminders for yourself, but lightheadedness and fatigue still became daily occurrences.

Makima’s touch travels down to your hips, her thumb circling over the bone as she leaves a few more dark marks on your clavicle.

It terrified you, these intense, foreign thoughts banging around your head, evicting your own consciousness from your brain. It was unbearable, you were getting sick every other night, throwing up in the toilet from just how much you missed a woman that you haven’t even had dinner with.

She moves from your collarbone and gently bites your shoulder, next licking and kissing the indentations of her teeth in your skin.

It wasn’t healthy. But therapy didn’t help, your friends laughed it off, and you could never mention it to your parents.

Lightly dragging her nails down your shoulders to your hands, Makima slinks to the ground in front of your chair, spreading your legs and pushing your skirt up.

You felt like you were going crazy.

She hums as she removes your underwear, revealing a glittering mess between your legs.

It eased up a few days after the evening you stayed late, though the thoughts never truly subsided. They’d ebb and flow, worsened after a noticeable gap in your memory. It didn’t make any sense, like you were living in a nightmare rather than reality.

Makima thumbs over your folds, drawing out a sharp hiss as she slips closer to your aching hole.

It was one harmless comment from Aki, a co-worker contracted with the fox devil, that revealed everything to you.

“Yeah, Princi will do just about anything Makima tells her to. It’s like she’s under a spell or something.”

A spell? What a strange way to put it.

Unless it’s not strange at all, rather, a reasonable, accurate way of describing it.

A spell. It all became clear. You’d been pondering any type of natural explanation for these maddening symptoms, but it’s possible there never was one. You were the victim of a supernatural influence…which can only be the work of a devil.

And it wasn’t only you, and not just Princi, the spider-devil you magically became contracted to—certainly Makima’s doing—it was everyone that’s under Makima’s spell.

It was some kind of power, a way she could get everyone to do her bidding. She’s been able to talk you and your co-workers into doing anything, and you weren’t the only one with strong feelings for her: you rivaled Aki, Denji, and a few others who’ve proclaimed their love.

Makima had completely infiltrated your mind. It’s why you wanted her dead.

She pushes her fingers inside your aching hole, slipping right in with no resistance from your body.

You exhale a curse that brings a smirk to her face. She knows this feels good, whether you want it to or not. So she gives you more, dancing her fingers in and out of your core, intent on provoking the primal way your body reacts to her.

Your hips buck and twitch with every strong curl of her fingers, body unable to resist the way the pads of her fingertips stroke every weak point of your canal in a meticulous assault.

“You wanted to say goodbye to this?” she taunts, tilting her head and drinking in your expression as your face contorts.

“Fuck…you,” you grit out, “This isn’t right. This isn’t me.”

“If not you, then who’s currently soaking my fingers?” she responds, with a pointed thrust that has your hand flying out to grab onto her shoulder. The strength in your grip does little to faze her.

“It’s not real.” you cry out, a desperation for your words to be true underlining your voice. “I know what you are.”

“Oh?” She seems amused by the contrast of your verbal combativeness and the way your body writhes beneath her. How your hand has moved from her shoulder to encircle her wrist in a tight grasp, but makes no effort to pull it away.

“And who would that be?” Her glowing eyes flare as they narrow in on you. It sends a wave of ice through your body until the next curl of her fingers heats it up again. You groan, finding it harder to follow your train of thought with the incessant rhythm of pleasure pounding through your body.

“You’re the control devil. One of the four horsemen.”

She’s unaffected, her soft smile never faltering, but her movements pause. “What makes you say that?”

With a respite, it’s easier to make your argument. “I’ve seen it. Everyone at work does anything you say, and they’re all in love with you. But a fucked up kind of love, obsessive. Like me, it’s an obsession when it comes to you. I feel fucking crazy.”

“How sweet,” she croons, placing a kiss on your inner thigh, “I like you very much as well.”

You try to pull your thigh away, but she keeps it locked in place. “No, this isn’t—it’s not real. Because these emotions are what you want me to feel. The book—the book in the office library—it says the control devil can manipulate a person’s thoughts and emotions.”

Her jaw tightens and she sits back on her feet. “I wonder how that book re-appeared,” she notes rigidly. Then she sighs, “No matter, I’m sure I’ll work it out.” Makima looks back up to your face. “After I’m through with you.”

You shudder and her hands find their way back to your thighs, fingertips skimming over your goosebump-ridden flesh. “It’s fascinating that you think I ever used my powers on you,” she says.

It’s true then, she’s the control devil. But she’s denying her role in your spiraling sanity.

“I’ve never, ever felt like this before. Never been so crazy or intense about someone, it’s not normal,” you argue, wincing as she reinserts herself. “You’re controlling me—it's the only explanation.”

“Am I?” Makima asks, curling her fingers again, “Or is it that you respond?”

Your eyes flutter and your hips instinctively grind against her hand. Fuck, you can’t focus when she touches you like that.

“You’re certain I’m making you like this?” she asks. Your hand reaches for the one on your thigh, holding onto it while she pumps in and out if you. “Or…are you actually enjoying this as much as you seem to?”

She’s making your head hurt. It’s her fault…right? She’s the one that’s manipulating your feelings, it’s her that’s implanting ones you’d never normally feel, and exacerbating their intensity with a flick of her fingers. It’s not you, it’s her.

And yet it’s your body that’s building up to a peak, one that you can’t stop yourself from reaching, one that you know will redefine the foundation of your world once more. You tried to have her killed—to protect yourself from her influence—and she’s still about to make you come.

It makes you wonder how much is her fault and how much is yours.

You had a bit of a crush on her before you really knew her. She was so nice to you when you first met, made you feel like there was someone in your corner during such a hard transition. She even bought you lunch a few times, your favorite meal.

You can’t quite remember how it even got to this point. Trying to kill her? Taking it to that level? You wonder if you were overreacting. Really, she’s nothing but nice to you.

And she makes you feel so good. So good you can’t stand it. Can’t stand her? No, can’t stand being away from her. God, this is all so confusing. Better to not think so hard.

You look down to her. It’s that same smile. She’s got you.

“Damnit,” you hiss.

“Mhmm,” she agrees.

Then your hips jolt. Several waves of unadulterated bliss course through your body, surging through your spine so fiercely that your back arches up off the chair. Your free hand clings to the desk behind you, trying to keep you from falling off the chair as you endure the orgasm.

Your eyebrows press together and your mouth drops open in a silenced scream. Pleasure pounds through your body, beating against every part like a stick to a drum.

“Fuck,” you say, digging your fingers into Makima’s wrist, “Feels so…oh my god.”

“Doing so good,” she coos, and you can only whine back, voice cracked and dry.

Makima pulls your closer, hand snaking around your waist so it’s supporting your curved lower back, pulling you into her fingers that pump in and out of you. There’s no escape, her assault on your core is merciless, even if you’re hanging onto the edge.

God, you need a break, need this orgasm to end. You call out her name, begging for a reprieve.

Makima doesn’t stop her motions, and her fingers drag against your sensitive walls. You go to pull her hand away, to end the overstimulation.

And then you feel it, a sudden, tingling buzzing in your lower back, pushing closer and closer to your core. Your first one has barely finished, scattered sparks still rocketing through your body. Makima doesn’t care, she’s intent on pushing you to your limit—breaking you.

“I can’t…oh my…mm’god I can’t–” you say, twitching and groaning as your hole throbs around Makima’s working fingers, already spent.

“You can,” she replies, her eyes glowing once more, “and you will.”

“Shit–Makima,” you moan, the feeling re-approaching your core, building in intensity. It’s like being caught under a violent wave, coming up out of the ocean half-drowned, and rubbing the salt out of your eyes to see an even bigger, fiercer wave towering over you.

Terrified or not, the wave crashes down, and there’s nothing you can do but try to hold on to the seafloor.

“Fucking–shit–Makima oh my god,” you cry out, eyes pressing shut. You’re shaking, shifting around in the chair but her hands keep you pinned in place. You catch a glimpse of her in your struggle—she just watches you, smiling.

“Ah,” you cry out. The sensation is flooding through your body, splintering out to reach every nerve in your core, your torso, and then your arms and legs. The experience is overwhelming, your body is being made a vessel to handle a voltage it can’t endure.

You heave and you jolt but you can’t fight the feeling out of you, it’s entrenching itself into your muscle fibers and bones. The heat has creeped up your spine, making your head even dizzier.

Your voice reverberates through your throat, but nothing intelligible comes out. It takes two more attempts at communication to realize that the only thing you can say is her name.

So you repeat it, over and over like it’s a language.

“M–Makima…Makima….Ma-kima…”

Your vision is white and you can’t feel the chair underneath you. Makima grabs your face, her voice is echoing through you, but you can’t really hear any of it.

“Yes,” you respond, but you don’t know how, you never tried to say it.

Then the wave recedes, color seeping back into your eyes, and the deep pressure of your orgasm slowly decompresses from your lower body.

You fall limp in the chair, muscles exhausted and unable to move. Your body aches and your mind flickers on and off like a broken lightbulb.

“That’s a good girl,” Makima coos, stroking the sides of your thighs. Your eyelids are struggling to stay up, but you’re able to meet her gaze. The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen is smiling softly at you.

You’re so tired. Depleted in all facets. There’s no will to fight…though you can’t remember what you’d even fight her for. All you want right now is the comfort she can provide.

You reach your shaking arms down to her wrists and guide her back up, bringing her face close to yours. She places her palms on your cheeks, cradling your face as she whispers how strong you are, how good you did for her, everything you want to hear after enduring such an intense experience. It fills your heart with a gentle warmth, a desire for her to be nestled within you, to stay with you forever.

So you draw her in, placing a soft, affectionate kiss on her lips. She kisses you back gently, fanning the warm, comfortable hearth constructed in your chest.

When she leans back, she sighs softly. “I’m so glad you’ve come back to me, my little hunter.”

You smile and let out a breathy hum, “Mhmm, me too.”

#makima x reader #makima x you #makima #makima lesbian #csm smut #csm makima #chainsaw man #chainsaw man makima #makima smut #kinktober 2024 #smut

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rightshoeonleftfoot · 8 months ago

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How the flowers bloom

Pairing: Marius "Jäger" Streicher x GN!reader

Summary: This is part 1 of my smitten!Jäger x oblivious!reader. Reader has a mental breakdown and Jäger helps you feel better.

Warning: Slight warning, reader has a big breakdown questioning their life. Apart from that it's all fluff. This series is a slow burn (somewhat lol).

Words: 2.3k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

This not proofread! Criticism is welcome and encouraged. I also do take requests for this fic :)

Today feels dull. Work takes longer than usual, your coworkers' voices grate your nerves more than usual. You have less patience for the customers yelling at you, less tolerance when your boss yells at you for the nth time to do something you haven't had the time for yet. After all, she gave you a never ending list of tasks to do, from mundane to tedious. You were getting to it.

Now, your boss asks you to be at the cash register, whilst also berating you for not going through the to-do list she gave you fast enough. The vase is filling up, one drop at a time. Now, you’re standing at the cash register trying to keep it together. It's excruciating, smiling at the customers like the stress of your job isn't starting to weigh on you.

Your vision starts to get blurry as you speak to the customer. It's been five years and you're still just an assistant in the bakery. You wanted to start your own business. Now here you are, acting as some sous-chef for an ungrateful baker, not a step closer to having your own bakery. What am I doing with my life? The thought rings loudly in your head, as a drop of water falls on the receipt you were gonna hand the woman.

You look down at it for a second, as more droplets fall on the receipt. The vase has overflown, and you're crying. The realization hits you as you wipe the tears off your cheeks and smile at the woman awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry." You chuckle in hopes of making the awkwardness of the situation go away. The lady surprisingly doesn't seem to take it badly. Instead, she looks almost.. concerned. "It's okay love. Everyone needs time off every once in a while." Her british accent is thick, yet it really seems like she cares. You nod in agreement and print out another receipt for her before handing it to her and heading to the break room.

You swallow the lump in your throat, mentally preparing to talk to your boss. You've decided, you're going home. You finally spot your boss, and she stares you down. Her gaze is piercing, like she's reading your every move.

"What the fuck are you doing back here? You're supposed to be out front." Her arms are crossed over her chest. An uncomfortable silence settles as you get the courage to speak up. "I'm heading home. I'm taking time off for the rest of the day." Your boss's face hardens, though she notices your teary eyes and she sighs. "Fine, take the rest of the day off. I don't need you today anyway." She doesn't seem genuine as she storms out of the break room, going to take care of the customers waiting for their order.

You pack your stuff up, almost relieved to be going home. Though the stress of losing your job seems to hit you as you put on your shoes to leave. It's a good paying job after all, right? The only downside is it's not exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life, but it's better than nothing you suppose. You sigh as you step out of the break room, the tears won't stop flowing. It's a never ending stream as you sniffle quietly, trying to bring the least amount of attention to yourself.

You glance at the line as you leave the bakery. It's the lunch rush, the line goes out the door. As you go to open the door to leave, you make eye contact with a customer. A smile appears on the man's face. You know him. He excuses himself from the front of the line and walks quickly towards you, before trapping you in a tight hug.

"Marius, wha- why are you here?" Your tone is laced with laughter as his hug lengthens. He doesn't answer for a few seconds, choosing to hold you in his arms a bit longer. He finally pulls back, putting his hands on each side of your arms. He's ecstatic to see you and it shows. "My op ended early, things got done a lot quicker than we expected." His smile falters a little when he sees your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

"Herzblatt, what happened? Are you crying?" The worry in his tone is obvious. He leans forward, as though to get a better look at your face to make sure you aren't injured. He backs off quickly, his cheeks now tinted red. What was he even trying to do? Confusion takes over as you're not quite sure why he reacted like that. He quickly reaches for a tissue in his pocket to hand you. "I'm okay Marius." You try to reassure him, chuckling to ease some of his worry.

He completely disregards your comment about being okay. "Did someone hurt you?" Instead of handing you the tissue, he goes to wipe off the tears off your cheeks himself. However, he stops himself and awkwardly looks away before handing you the tissue. You take the tissue from his hand, wiping your tears away. "Thanks." You take a deep breath. "No one did this, I'm just.. stressed." You feel a bit bad, complaining about your stressful job to a man who defends people's lives for a living.

"You were heading home, right? Why don't I make you dinner?" Marius proposes confidently. He seems almost too excited to be at your house again. He's fiddling with his belt loop on his pants, you notice he looks almost.. nervous. Granted, he's been like that around you for a bit, you just kind of assume it's how he is. "I couldn't ask that of you, I'd feel bad taking up your time like that." You really just feel like you're taking up space. Not that you don't want to spend time with him, you just don't want to feel like you're bothering him.

His confidence falters ever so slightly. He feels a bit rejected, almost like you're making an excuse to let him down easy. "Well, I don't have anything else to do and uhm, I missed you so..." He looks away awkwardly for a second, before looking back at you and smiling confidently once again. His cheeks seem a bit more flushed than usual. "Okay, yeah, if you're really okay with it, it'd be really nice." You feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It's nice to have a friend who cares.

"I missed you too, by the way. Let's go." You sniffle as you wipe the last of your tears. His heart flutters at your words. Marius puts his hand out for you to take, but you don't notice as you've already started to walk. He quickly follows you, walking side by side with you.

The walk back to your house is... animated to say the least. Marius has a lot of energy, and a lot to talk about. The entire time you have your hands tucked away in your pockets, to Marius' great disappointment. He's talking your ear off about stuff he's recently watched and read, and he never seems to run out of talking material. His laugh is contagious, and you find yourself forgetting about all the stressful things that happened today.

You finally get back to your house and open the door for him. You take off your shoes and lock the door behind you both. He takes off his shoes and heads to the kitchen, going over to your fridge and opening it with you hot on his trail. You sneak behind him, peeking above his shoulder to see what he's looking at. "What do you want me to make for you, Schatzi?" His tone wavers a bit due to your proximity. He starts to pick stuff up from the fridge and puts it back in an effort to distract himself from you.

"Pasta would be nice." You mumbled, your hand coming to rest on his side to stabilize yourself as you look at what you have in your fridge with him. He freezes, the thoughts in his brain becoming a bit scrambled. "I uhm, I suppose I could." His tone was a bit hesitant as he looked back at you, not realizing just how close you were to him. He looked away immediately, taking a few things out of the fridge and walking away from you and towards the counter.

Marius gets to work. He seems to know what to make with what you have. He's expertly navigating your kitchen, he knows exactly where everything is. You get out of his way, resorting to watching him cook. You're leaning on the counter, looking at his every move, not saying a word. Then, he drops a glass and freezes. He's never done that before. Especially not around you.

"Scheiße." He mumbles under his breath. He's avoiding your gaze, he seems embarrassed. "It's okay, I got it." You stand up straight and head over to the mess he made to clean it up. His palms are sweaty as he tries to help you clean the mess, though he seems to keep dropping everything. You clean up the raw egg that fell on the floor, but accidentally cut yourself on the glass. "Tsk, shit." Marius immediately grabs your hand to look at the cut. He inspects your cut and helps you up.

"Let's get this cleaned up, Liebling." He leads you to the washroom but you stop him. You never understand the names he gives you, you never bother to ask since they seem innocent enough. "I'm okay, Marius. I just need to rinse it." You smile reassuringly at him, and he seems to relax, his grip on your hand loosening. He doubles down regardless. "No, I don't want any glass in your cut." He pulls you towards him and into the washroom.

He drags you over to the sink, and cleans your wound for you. His hands are sweaty and you can feel it. He's nervous, but it's nothing out of the ordinary so you don't question it. You lean towards him to see what he was doing better. He's cleaning it up, putting your hand under warm water, rinsing your cut to make sure there's no glass. He puts some polysporin on it and covers it with a bandaid, making sure it's nice and snug. He finally looks up to see you. "There, it's all-" He stops talking abruptly as his eyes meet yours.

You're confused as to why he stopped talking. His face is very close to yours, but it's not bothering you, you're usually this close to him. He clears his throat and looks away. "Uhm, yeah, it's cleaned and you're good to go." He smiles awkwardly, and leaves to go back to the kitchen to finish making you food. You can't deny his help is making all your stress vanish.

You walk back into the kitchen, and smile when you notice he cleaned up the glass. "Marius." You call out to him as he turns on the stove to make the sauce. "Ja?" He doesn't turn to look at you. "Thank you for helping me with all of this." You sit at the counter realizing he'd put his sleeves up to his elbows now. "Any time, do you wanna talk about what's bothering you?" You contemplate it for a second before speaking. "I don't like my work." Marius is stunned for a second as he looks at you.

"I thought you loved baking?" He checked the sauce before leaning over the counter to pay more attention to you. "Well, yeah. I just-" You sigh, trying to find your words. "I want to have my own bakery, you know? I'm tired of being some- some sous chef to my boss." You clench your fists. "She treats me like shit, Marius. I've been there for five years and she's not any closer to letting me have a little bit of freedom when it comes to designing the menu."

Marius seems to think for a second. "Why don't you take out a loan? I'll help you find a good spot for your bakery, I can help with the renovation. You'll make that money back quickly." His positive nature is contagious. "You think I could do it?" You don't want to get into debt, it's worrying. "You have the experience and the passion. Besides, I can be your taste tester, ja?" He smiles, trying to lighten the mood. "But for now, focus on getting food and relaxing, Schatzi. I can set something up on the TV for us."

You nod, feeling relieved to have someone there for you. He focuses back on making you a good meal, occasionally spilling some things and bumping into dining chairs and counters as he navigates the kitchen. After a few minutes, he plates the food and presents it to you. Pomodoro pasta, and it looks mouthwatering. "Living room?" He asks as he holds both bowls in his hands, looking at you eagerly.

"Yeah." You hurry to your living room, sitting on the couch, and he puts the pasta bowls on the coffee table. Before you can grab the remote to turn on the TV, he snags it from you. He sits on the couch next to you and sets up a documentary on quantum computers. You lean back on the couch, leaning into him since he's so warm. He freezes but doesn't move. As you both watch and eat, you're hit with a strange sense of calmness.

You focus on the documentary, and though you don't understand everything, you don't mind. He loves explaining it to you anyway. You, however, never notice all the looks he gives you to make absolutely sure you like what you're watching. After all, he'd give you the world if you'd only just accept it.

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anxiousalene · 10 days ago

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My Thoughts On the Vengence Saga 🔱🩸

HOLY SHIT ODYSSEUS MY GOD, BRO DID NOT HOLD BACK. The saga started with I'm not sorry for loving and it was sad on Calpyso's part (WANGUI COOKED SHE ABSOLUTELY COOKED) but I'm really glad Jorge didn't have Odysseus accept her "apology" because what she did even though she tries to justify it, it was 100% wrong AND THEN HERMES SHOWED UP AND WE GET REFERENCES TO THE TROY SAGA, OCEAN SAGA AND CIRCE SAGA. AND I LOVE THE "IF YOU DANCE WITH FATE THEN I KNOW YOU'LL ENHANCE YOUR STATE" LINE. I LOVE HOW MANY THINGS GET PERSONIFIED IN JORGE'S MUSIC LIKE PRIDE AND DANGER FEEL AS IF THEY'VE ACTUALLY COME TO LIFE. ALSO, THE FACT THAT JORGE'S SISTER VOICES THE PRINCESS WINION IS SO FUNNY TO ME, LIKE WE HAVE THE WHOLE FAMILY NOW. BUT DANGEROUS IS A BANGER LIKE I KNEW IT WOULD, ALL HERMES SONGS MAKE ME WANT TO DANCE. THE WINDBAG MAKES A SECOND APPEARANCE SO WE ALREADY KNOW THAT IS GONNA HAVE SOME SIGNIFICANCE. ALSO, ODYSSEUS IS GONNA USE RUTHLESSNESS FOR SURE. I ALSO LIKE THE "DON'T THANK ME FRIEND, I'M NOT THE ONE WHO FOUGHT FOR YOU" and Odysseus is like who then?? I was kinda hoping that Athena would show back up and it would be this whole big moment but she didn't :( RIP. Charybdis is REALLY COOL it was different from what I expected and I'm pretty sure it's Jorge's only entirely solo song In the show which is really cool. I also LOVE that right before Odysseus explains he doesn't have to fight Charybidis we get an electric guitar rift to show that he's using his intelligence. AT THE END HE SEES ITHACA AND HE'S ALMOST HOME AFTER ALL THESE YEARS AND THE MUSIC IS SO SOFT COMPARED TO EARLIER IN THE SONG. But... POSEIDON SHOWS UP. IM ANNOYED FROM A SHOW PERSPECTIVE BECAUSE JUST LET THE POOR MAN GET HOME BUT STEVEN IS ALSO SO TALENTED. HE WENT BEAST MODE FOR GET IN THE WATER. I like how intentional Poseidon's threat of "I'll take your son and gouge his eyes" to give an eye-for-an-eye deal to harm Telemachus as Odysseus did to Polyphemus. I also love Odysseus really does use all his tricks because he tries to show Poseidon to forgive and almost "Greet the world with open arms" but when Poseidon ignores him, he goes F* it. Then Poseidon uses his final boss move "OCEAN SHATTER" and Odysseus gets weighed down in the water by everyone who has died because of him in someway. But what I find heartbreaking is instead of singing their own motifs or "final thoughts" they all sing Waiting and his name until something clicks in his mind. ODYSSEUS GRABS THE WIND BAG AND OPENS IT WITH GLOWING RED EYES DESPITE KNOWING THAT IT WILL BLOCK HIS ONLY WAY HOME. HE USES IT AS A JETPACK AND STRIKES POSEIDON WITH HIS BOSS MOVE "600 HUNDRED MAN STRIKE" JORGE DID SUCH A GOOD VOCALLY TO SHOW HOW ANGRY AND SURE OF HIMSELF ODYSSEUS IS. ALSO WHEN HE'S ATTACKING IT SOUNDS LIKE LEGENDARY AND I THINK IT MIGHT BE BECAUSE HE'S CLOSE TO HOME SO HE'S MORE SIMILAR TO HIS SON. ALSO, THE VOICES OF THE CREW IN THE BACKGROUND IS JUST AHHHH. ALSO, I LOVE THAT WE CAN HEAR THE WND BAG MUSIC AND THE STORM MUSIC AS THE BATTLE IS GOING ON. Then Poseidon proceeds to taunt Odysseus by the fact he released the storm because now Poseidon can kill him and there's no way for him to get home. ODYSSEUS GOES APESHIT, or rather VERY CALM. We hear the danger motif as Odysseus walks toward Poseidon and Posiedon says "You can't kill me" and Odysseus says "Exactly" HE PICKS UP POSEDON'S TRIDENT AND STABS HIM OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER TO THE POINT WHERE POSEIDON IS BEGGING HIM TO STOP. but Odysseus has a Ruthlessness is mercy mentality and doesn't stop even as Poseidon, god of the seas, is calling him a MONSTER. AND THE CRAZIEST PART IS Poseidon relents the storm and asks "How will you sleep night?" and Odysseus goes "Next to my wife" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LIKE LINE IS SO ACTUALLY INSANE LIKE THIS SAGA WAS AN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER AND ODYSSEUS HAS TRULY STOPPED CARING ALSO, EVERYONE'S VOCALS WERE OFF THE CHARTS AND IM GOING TO BE OBSESSING ABOUT THIS FOR THE COMING WEEKS. As usual, thank you to the entire Epic Crew and everyone behind the scenes for making these sagas, they are awesome.

#jorge rivera herrans #epic the musical #epic the vengeance saga #epic the ocean saga #epic the wisdom saga

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terabyteturtle · 7 months ago

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Hii! Could I request a Reina SFW alphabet? If not thats ok!! I know there isn’t much to know about her 😓

💜 Reina SFW Alphabet 💜

I'll probably have to rewrite this eventually as we get more information about her, but I did my best with what we have so far! I tried my best not to assume much of anything, but I feel like Reina would be a bit of a loner type, especially after the death of Heihachi (whom we assume she was close with). Hope you enjoy!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Reina shows a regular amount of affection towards you; it’s neither constant nor rare. She’s very casual and doesn’t make a big deal over it. Being as clever as she is, Reina is very smooth and sly with most of her gestures. For example, you guys will just be having a conversation, and she’ll just slip an arm around your shoulders without you noticing. The only displays of affection she won’t be subtle with, though, are punches and shoulder bumps. Despite having a penchant for being smooth, Reina also enjoys playfighting as a sign of affection. If she punches you in the arm or rams into you with her shoulder, then you know she’s into you. She’ll do all of this no matter where you are. However, when it comes to hugs and kisses, those are saved for private interactions only.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Honestly, being her best friend isn’t that much different from being in a relationship with her (minus the kissing). Be prepared for tons of sarcasm and teasing galore, and anyone who talks bad about you will get a Mishima-style beatdown. Oftentimes, you’ll have to be her voice of reason and hold her back from fighting people who piss her off. This makes her mad initially, but she always ends up thanking you later. Reina doesn’t really interact with anyone aside from you; for a long time, she’s danced to the beat of her own drum and kept herself company. You’re one of the few people she actually cares about, so she always tries to take your thoughts into account and listen to what you have to say. The friendship would probably start at the Mishima Polytechnical School, with you both being students there. As mentioned before, Reina’s typically a loner, but something about you just catches her eye. One day, she’ll just start talking to you, and you’re kinda stuck with her from that point on.

C = Comfort (How do they comfort you? Are they good at it or are they kinda awkward? How do they like to be comforted?)

If you need comfort, Reina will hug you from behind and sit there for a little while, allowing you to vent if you need to. When you’re finished speaking, or you just have nothing you want to say, she’ll launch into a pep talk. Well, sort of. In these specialty speeches, Reina hypes you up but also throws in slight digs to tease you at various times. She doesn’t mean to upset you further; rather, she’s trying to make the situation more lighthearted. She wants to see you smile and build up your confidence more. Are you really gonna let those negative feelings show you who’s boss? Not on her watch, you aren’t. Is this comfort method typical? No, but it has a surprisingly high success rate, and through it, Reina shows you how awesome of a person you are. As for herself, all she needs is a great big hug. If you find that she’s feeling low, just embrace her and tell her that it will all be okay. As cliche as it sounds, it works.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Reina hasn’t really thought about settling down much. She recalls her father saying something about continuing the bloodline and passing on the legacy, but right now, she has several things on her plate that she’d rather attend to first (getting good grades and acquiring the Mishima Zaibatsu). In terms of housekeeping, Reina will help out with whatever she can, but chances are you’re gonna have to be the one to do most of it. She has a lot on her mind, so she’ll only think about keeping her little corner of the place clean, meaning everything else will be left to you unless you ask her to lend a hand. When it comes to cooking, Reina can make herself a sandwich, but she doesn’t really know how to do much else. Somehow, she’s managed to collect a ton of coupons for various local restaurants, so she’s pretty much survived off of those. If you’d like to make her food, great! If not, she’s happy to share some coupons with you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with you, how would they do it?)

If Reina had to end it with you, the encounter is either gonna be snarky or angry. There’s no nice way to do it with her. If she’s snarky, she’ll act like it doesn’t affect her and tease you ruthlessly, saying really harsh things that’ll destroy any self-confidence that you might’ve had. Reina’s an expert on getting inside people’s heads and getting on their nerves, and by the end of the conversation, she will make you hate her. If she ends up being angry, then prepare yourself—things are gonna get ugly real quick. She’ll yell at you, insult you, and is not afraid to get up, close, and personal. Depending on how things go, she might even punch you in the face. Either way, breaking up with Reina is gonna suck.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

She hasn’t really thought much about commitment, as she has a lot of other things on her mind. Reina knows she wants to avenge her father and inherit his conglomerate, but she hasn’t really thought past that. She’s young and still has a long way to go in life, so she doesn’t see any point in rushing to make a commitment. Reina definitely wants to marry you eventually (because how on Earth could she not, you’re amazing), but right now, she just wants to take things one step at a time and wait until she’s older.

G = Gentle (How tender are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, Reina’s pretty rough. She doesn’t mean to half the time—it’s just her default setting. She’ll playfully punch you sometimes, but it just means that she cares. If she didn’t, those punches would be far more brutal. If she’s feeling lazy and wants to cuddle, she’ll just kinda flop on top of you. Emotionally, she’s also rough around the edges. Since she was raised by Heihachi of all people, Reina’s inherited some of the old-school, stone-cold mentality. On top of that, she’s naturally spunky and sarcastic, always ready to make a wisecrack out of anything. If something serious is going on, however, she’ll lose her typical spunkiness and be gentler.

H = Hugs n' Cuddles (Do they like hugs/cuddles? What are they like? How often do they happen?)

She loves them! Reina will hug you from anywhere—from the front, from the side, from behind, she’ll give you hugs of any kind. As for cuddles, those just consist of her flopping on top of you and you dealing with it. She might shuffle a bit to make herself more comfortable, but for the most part, wherever she flops is wherever she ends up staying. Both of these happen regularly, and they happen way more in private than in public. Once in a while, she might give you a side hug while you’re out somewhere, but typically, Reina prefers to hug you while you’re alone together.

I = I Love You (How quickly do they tell you they love you?)

It takes her a while for her to say it like a normal person would. Reina loves being sarcastic and teasing you, and when it comes to her feelings, she’d rather voice them indirectly than saying them outright. “Life would be boring without you” and “If I didn’t have you, who else would I waste my restaurant coupons with?” are the two closest things she’s said to “I love you” thus far. Eventually, when Reina does say it, she’ll slip it in casually and you almost don’t catch it right away. She says “I love you” the same way one would say “Yo, dude”. Once you realize what Reina’s said to you, she’ll give you a smirk and a wink before pulling you into a side hug.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Reina doesn’t get jealous. Compared to herself, she doesn’t see anyone else as a threat. Could anyone spoil you with free ramen like she does? She doesn’t think so. If anything, she’ll make them jealous instead. If any brave soul tries to charm you, Reina will just tell them you’re taken. If her arm isn’t around your shoulders already, it’s going to be there now. She’ll show you off and indirectly rub it in their face that you belong to her. Reina has what they want, and she’s not going to let them take what’s hers. However, if the person persists after she’s made her point clear, that’s when she gets fired up. She’ll lose her temper and become borderline territorial, challenging the person and getting in their face. You’ll have to distract her quickly if you want to avoid a fight. If the person continues harassing you, then there’s no hope left for them, and no chance left for you to intervene; Reina’s already got her mind set on putting this person in their place.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Reina’s kisses vary depending on her mood. If she’s feeling pleasant and just hanging out, she’ll give you quick pecks. If she’s feeling tired or lazy, kisses will be slow and sloppy. Sometimes, she’ll miss her initial target and wind up kissing some other random spot. She doesn’t mind though; as long as she gets to kiss you, she’s content. If Reina’s trying to comfort you or show her love for you, they’ll be sweet and deep. Often, she enjoys tricking you into believing that she’s going to kiss your lips, only to peck your nose instead. She also loves kissing your neck, as it feels soft and sensitive. Reina loves being kissed on the cheek, as it allows her to focus her attention on multiple things while still receiving much-loved affection.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children and what are their thoughts on them?)

She thinks they can be annoying sometimes, but she doesn’t have any particular grudge against them. If the kid’s a brat, she’ll get pissed off, but if they’re nice, she might talk to them and play along with whatever they’re saying and doing for a little while. Reina’s not perfect with kids, as she has a quick temper, but if she spent more time around them, she’d become better with them. She hasn’t thought about having kids herself, since she’s still a student and has other priorities. However, she might consider it eventually, especially if you’d like to have kids in the future as well.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Most mornings typically involve the two of you getting ready for school together. She’ll wake up begrudgingly to get ready and will act grumpy throughout the early hours of the day. Reina doesn’t mean to offend you; it’s just that she’s not a morning person. It’s best not to say much until she’s started to perk up a bit, unless you want to get hit with a sharp remark that she doesn’t truly mean. Reina doesn’t mind getting the school lunch, but if you’d like to pack lunches for both of you, she’d greatly appreciate it. She only has the energy to do the bare minimum, so anything extra is beyond her reach by herself. Occasionally, you’ll go out to eat breakfast somewhere local, and from there, you guys usually take the train to school and walk from the station to the front gates together.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Reina is typically much happier and more sociable at night. You guys often study together and help each other with homework, with some nice lo-fi music playing in the background. After all of that’s done, you guys will just chill out, watch TV, cuddle, and talk about whatever comes to mind. She’ll often gossip about people she hates or vent about her least favorite classes while you sit there and listen. If you’d like to talk about something, then she’s all ears. There’s a large chance that she’ll want to go out somewhere, even if it’s a school night. This usually contributes to why she’s so tired in the morning, and you tell her this constantly, but Reina doesn’t care. Ultimately, she wants to live life to the fullest and see what the world has to offer. Since she’s been living on her own, she’s had more freedom to do what she wants with her time. Reina might mean business when it comes to certain things, but she won’t ignore a good time if presented with one.

O = Open (At what point would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or take their time with it?)

Reina enjoys being mysterious and cryptic, which mainly stems from how much she likes to mess with people. As much as she likes to toy with you, she’ll eventually start sharing things after a while. She understands that it’s annoying to keep dodging questions, especially in the manner that she does, so she’ll gradually open up about things as time passes. Reina will take her time and share secrets on her own terms and in her own way. Due to her sly, mischievous nature, it’s rare that you actually get a solemn moment with her. Usually, she ends up talking about things either matter-of-factly or sarcastically, even if it's a serious topic. If she opens up about something deeply personal, she’ll downplay it as though it weren’t incredibly important. It’ll take a bit of time, but when Reina starts talking, it’d be in your best interest to listen.

P = Patience (How patient are they?)

Generally, Reina’s got a quick temper, and it doesn’t take much to set it off. People who are quick to judge her or count her out don’t earn much patience from her. If she’s dealing with someone she’s cool with (which is rare given her loner tendencies), she’ll be more patient with them. With you, Reina tries her best, but you can tell when she gets impatient because she’ll get a little snarkier than usual, which is saying a lot referring to her.

Q = Quizzes (How much do they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or kinda forget everything?)

Reina remembers a lot about you. She’s inherited that sharp Mishima memory, which is made sharper by the fact that she still attends school and has to retain a lot of information across various subjects. Considering you’re one of the few people she deeply cares about, she’ll soak up every detail about you like a sponge.

R = Remember (What is one of the most important moments of your relationship?)

One of the most important moments in your relationship was when she told you she loved you the first time. You were so used to her sarcastic comments that whatever nice thing she did say caught you off guard, so hearing her tell you those three words, especially in such a casual manner, almost gave you whiplash. You stared at her for a moment and debated asking her to say them again. But she must’ve read your mind, because she said them again, that time a little more solemnly. You smiled, which made her heart flutter, which was a feeling that she’d never experienced before. She smirked and winked at you, pulling you into a side hug. It was a simple moment but still super sweet, and you’ll look back on it for the rest of your life.

S = Security (How protective are they and how would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Reina gets very protective, especially when you’re in an unsafe area. She’s always on her guard, keeping her eyes peeled for folks who might cause trouble for the both of you. Consider her your personal bodyguard. She doesn’t mind getting into fights if it means keeping you safe. Reina feels protected whenever you’re around her. Your presence never fails to make her feel safe. It’s gotten to the point where she can’t fully relax unless you’re there with her. Unless you’re around, she doesn’t let her walls come down.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, etc?)

Since Reina enjoys going with the flow, dates are often impulsive. You guys just go to your favorite places without thinking twice. Meanwhile, gifts have way more thought put behind them, since Reina wants to make you feel special. She wants any gift that she gives you to reflect something personal. Initially, she never really thought much about anniversaries, but as time goes on and you’re nearing your first one, Reina will start thinking of a ton of random ideas, each one grand and extravagant. She always tells you that once the Mishima Zaibatsu becomes hers, you two are going somewhere nice and getting away from it all.

U = Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?)

Her hot-blooded temper and cold-blooded arrogance make a deadly combo, especially for those brave enough to cross her. It can make her difficult to deal with at times, and on some days, it's like her anger is on a hair trigger. She's never taken it out on you, but you've seen her take it out on other people, and it's not pretty.

V = Values (What do they value in a partner?)

Reina values someone she can be herself around. She understands that there are a lot of people who hate her, and to them she gives a big middle finger, but it sucks not having many people to hang around. She had her dad, but he's been dead for a year now and, until you showed up, she didn't really have anyone to talk to. Reina’s had to be a loner for a while, and she's had enough of just keeping to herself. As much as she'd like to deny it, she's a human being, just like anyone else. She needs someone to vent to, to share secrets with, to love. If she just starts to hate everyone, life won't be fun. But with someone like you, it is.

W = Wedding (How are they on the big day? How do they help plan it out? Are they emotional or stoic?)

Reina would want to make it a spectacle. She wants to show off her lover and display their beautiful love for each other. By this time, she'll probably have the Mishima Zaibatsu in the palm of her hands, so she can make that happen. She's excited; there’s no doubt about that. She claims it’s not a big deal, but you can see the pleased gleam in her eyes as she helps you plan everything out. She has a hand in every aspect of the wedding—catering, decorations, themes, you name it. While you’re standing on the altar, Reina gives you this big smile that just screams with pride. She could not be more proud to have you by her side, and she can't wait for you both to rule the world together.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Reina likes flicking your forehead every so often just to tease you. She loves teasing you in general, but your reaction to this gesture in particular is priceless.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they can't stand, both in a partner and in general?)

Reina doesn't like anyone who's entitled or believes that they have a right to everything. She's also not one to take to sensitive people. If you don't have a backbone, you're considered a weakling in her eyes.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleep habits of theirs?)

Reina will snore a bit, but it's never too loud and you don't have any trouble falling asleep to it. She’ll hug you as you guys fall asleep, but since she often moves in her sleep, she won't stay there throughout the night. Reina will move around, but she's never been too disruptive. There have been times however when her arm will just randomly flop on top of you, and one time, she even smacked you in the face by accident. Aside from that, though, she's not too bad. Reina typically has a lot of crazy dreams as well, so expect to hear all about them during lunch the next day.

#tekken #tekken x reader #reina #reina x reader #sfw alphabet

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something-tofightfor · 11 months ago

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Snow and Mistletoe - Part 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

No Outbreak AU.

Word Count: 10,235

Rating: M - as a whole for language and innuendo... and maybe things get a little steamy toward the end.

A/N: This is a continuation of the @pedrostories Secret Santa fic gift exchange for @burntheedges. It got a little long, but that's how these things go.

Thank you to everyone that's read so far. I really enjoyed this chapter a LOT. (THE CAMEOS.)

Only the epilogue left ... and that one's nowhere near as long as this, I promise.

Summary: Joel's work party gives you an opportunity to spend more time together in a very different setting. Not only do you learn more about him, but you also get to see what he does... and what it means to him.

The two of you have an opportunity to take things to the next level in a few different ways... will you capitalize on them?

Part 1 / Part 2

You were in the worst mood you’d been in in months by the time you left work the following afternoon.

Even Ellie - whose shift was scheduled to end an hour after yours - hadn’t tried to cheer you up with humor that day, which said a lot. Instead, she gave you a wave and a nod when you left, the girl wrapped up in a conversation with a couple that were deciding between two guitars for their daughter. I know it’s bad when even she doesn’t try to butt in.

It shouldn’t have surprised you - the day before Christmas Eve was always a shitshow, with people that had waited until the last minute expecting you to feel the same sense of urgency that they were.

Instead of that, though, you were frustrated, each irate customer making you question whether or not owning the shop was worthwhile. It is, you reminded yourself as you pulled out of the lot, someone honking their horn at you as you merged into traffic. It’s a good job and I’m my own boss, and …

You repeated those things to yourself the entire drive home through gritted teeth and an almost painful grip on the steering wheel. It wasn’t until you parked in the garage and turned the car off that you finally relaxed.

There was no work until the 27th. You didn’t have to worry about customers for three days, and you had a date with Joel that night. An overnight one, you reminded yourself. With a half hour drive each way.

It was enough to get you out of the car and into the house, heart pounding at the prospect of spending an entire night with Joel, even if it meant staying in two separate rooms. You wondered if that would be necessary - or if it was what he actually wanted. Instead of dwelling on that, you decided to take a shower, using the heat of the water to soothe you and giving you an extra twenty minutes of peace and relaxation before you started getting ready.

And you were glad that you did, because by the time 4:30 rolled around and Ellie got home, you were a bundle of raw nerves. You’d applied and then removed your makeup twice, packed your overnight bag and then repacked it, trying to plan for anything that came up over the course of the following eighteen hours. But how do you plan for this? How do you plan for … him?

Her voice was what brought you back into focus, and when Ellie peeked her head in your door and asked if you were alright, you knew that there was no point in lying, because she’d see right through it. “Where … where are you going tonight?” She stepped into your bedroom, her arms crossed over her chest. “Why do you have a bag packed? Are we leaving? Do I need to -”

“Ellie.” Turning on your chair, you clasped your hands together in your lap. “I’m going to a Christmas party tonight.” She looked confused but stayed quiet, waiting. “With Joel.” At that, her eyes widened, the teenager’s jaw dropping. “He invited me to -”

“His work party. No shit.” She laughed and sat down on the end of your bed. “Sarah was telling me about that last week. She heard him and Tommy talking about it. When did he invite you?”

“Monday.” You shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d make a big deal about it, and …” Rolling your eyes, you sighed heavily. “And I didn’t want to hear you gloating for a week.” Her laugh was loud and genuine, Ellie’s face lighting up.

“Me? Gloat? Never.” She leaned closer, biting her lower lip. “God, it’s about time.” She stood abruptly, heading for the door. “Wait, are you spending the night?”

“It’s at a hotel about a half hour away.” You turned back to the mirror, watching her through it. “I packed a bag just in case. I might be home, I might not.” You tried to say it casually, but at the words, you felt a flicker of excitement in your chest. She knows now. It’s real. It… wow.

“Can Sarah spend the night? It’s her last night to practice.” She cocked her head to the right and then continued. “I mean, since we’ll both be home by ourselves tonight otherwise, because you and Joel are leaving us all alone to -”

“It’s fine with me if it’s fine with Joel.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, but you weren’t really upset. “And I really appreciate you being so mature about this, Ellie.”

“Speaking of mature…” She cleared her throat. “When two people really like each other, sometimes they might want to -”

Your groan drowned her out. A few seconds later you heard her laughing as she headed down the hallway and toward her room, leaving you to finish getting ready with a smile on your face. She was a handful at times, but you wouldn’t trade her presence in your life for anything. And hopefully, I’ll never have to.

—

By 5:30, you were downstairs waiting, your packed bag by the front door. Ellie was in her room with the door shut, though you heard her talking. She sounded animated - her voice rising and falling, but you were so nervous that you didn’t focus on it, instead pacing back and forth in your kitchen, trying to force yourself to take deep breaths.

Ellie - and likely Sarah by that point - knowing what was happening was a relief, but it was Joel that was making you anxious, even though you knew there was no real reason to be. It’s going to be fine, you reminded yourself as you drummed your fingers on the countertop. It’s a first date. There’s no expectation. There’s no reason to worry. He would never do anything to make me feel…

Your phone lit up with an alert followed by the ring of the doorbell, and at the sound, you sucked in a breath. “Here we go.” Letting it out in a slow whoosh, you steadied yourself and walked to the front door, fingers closing about the knob to pull it open.

And at the sight of him on the porch, you froze in place, eyes going wide. “Holy shit, Joel.” Meeting his eyes, you shook your head. “Wow.”

“I could say the same damn thing.” His lips twitched as he tried to hide a smile, and when you let out a quiet laugh, he visibly relaxed. “Shit.”

He was wearing a pair of dark pants and a black suit jacket, open over a dress shirt in deep burgundy that had all but the top button done. You’d never seen him so dressed up, and you didn’t even know where to begin. But wait. “Didn’t you say we had a long drive? Won’t wearing the -”

“About that.” He sighed, lips set into a thin line. “We’re -”

“Oh, good.” Ellie’s voice came from behind you, along with the sound of feet descending the stairs. “Perfect.” What the - “Ok, you two…” She appeared next to you, camera in hand. “Time for some pictures.”

You laughed and then Joel followed suit, his nervous expression changing into one of relief. By the time Sarah appeared, too, the girl rounding the front of your house and coming to stand beside him, you were outside, your overnight back sitting on the step and Ellie close behind. “This is payback, right? For all the times I took pictures of you before -”

“Yep.” She grinned. “Now go stand in front of that tree. Together.” You snuck a look at Joel, who wasn’t even trying to conceal his amusement - or look away from you.

“We gotta do what she says, right?” He reached out, extending one hand and you took it, his fingers closing around yours and squeezing. “You got five minutes, Ellie. We’ll be late if you take any longer.”

“That’s all we need.” Sarah was grinning, too, her eyes shining as she watched you. “Now put your arm around her, Dad. Don’t make it weird.”

You and Joel posed for the girls for a few minutes, all four of you laughing together as they instructed you to adopt new poses and keep your eyes on the camera. But Joel’s hand never left you, the tips of his fingers finding the slit in the back of your shirt without even trying, and resting against your bare skin.

You’d opted for a more casual look, pairing black high-waisted, wide legged dress pants with an off-the-shoulder top in a deep green. It technically had two short sleeves, though one of them was more a bow than an actual sleeve, and when the light hit it just right, it had a vaguely metallic sheen - just like his jacket. We match. We didn’t even realize and … “Ok, all done. Have fun, you two!” Ellie tucked her camera into her back pocket, looking at Sarah. “Come on, we’re gonna order a pizza.”

Sarah paused, though, looking up at Joel, who turned his head to smile at her. “See you tomorrow?” She nodded, and before he could say anything else, she was hugging him, the girl’s arms tightly wound around his body. You watched for a second, not wanting to interrupt - and when Sarah pulled back, she was smiling again. “Text me if you need -”

“She’ll be fine.” Ellie waved him off, sighing. “We’ll be fine. Joel.”

He grumbled but finally agreed, and then a few seconds later, the two of you watched as the door closed behind the girls, leaving you and Joel standing on your front lawn. “Something tells me they’re happy about this.”

“Oh, Sarah’s thrilled.” He reached for your hand again, linking his fingers with yours. “Couldn’t get her shit packed fast enough to come over here with me.” His smile widened, Joel’s eyes sweeping over your face. “You look real pretty.”

“Thank you.” You felt heat rising in your cheeks, his compliment simple but having the desired effect on you. “I like the red.”

“Me too. And I’m gonna like it even more when I can take this jacket off for good tonight and hang it over the back of my chair.” You snorted at his words, not doubting them for a second. “But we really need to get going. Might be traffic, and I don’t want to be too late.”

Only a few minutes later, you were comfortably in the front seat of Joel’s truck, the radio playing softly in the background. His jacket and your bag were in the back seat, and he’d unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves, though he hadn’t rolled them up to drive.

The nerves had dissipated almost entirely, and as you put more miles between you and your house, so did the lingering annoyance at the bad day you’d had. Good. Because I want to enjoy this. “I never thought teenagers would be so … interested in what old people are doing.”

You snorted, shrugging. “Are we old, Joel?”

“To them, probably.” He glanced over, one hand on the steering wheel, the other elbow resting on the window frame. “Sarah’s never really been …curious about the people I’ve gone out with before. But they planned this, and you know it.”

“They did.” You nodded, eyes on the road ahead of you. “Ellie’s… pleased with herself. That girl’s got more of her mother in her than she knows.

“Anna was a year younger than you, right?” You nodded, knowing he could see the movement. “I didn’t know her well. Wish I would have, though.”

“Amanda wouldn’t have liked that.” It slipped out before you could stop it, and though you winced at your words, Joel took them in stride.

“No, she wouldn’t have.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And knowing that shoulda been the first sign that I needed to -”

“Joel, teenagers are inherently jealous of each other. And you were one of the best looking guys in school, of course she was going to be … worried.”

“One of?” He looked over at you again, one brow arched. “Who else?”

“Nate.” You spoke up immediately, humming in approval. “And Zach, and -”

“Interesting.” He hummed, nodding. “Haven’t thought of those guys in a long time.”

You hadn’t, either.

After high school, most of your class had dispersed, leaving Texas to chase their dreams in other cities and states. You’d kept up with them through Facebook for a while, but as the years passed, updates became less frequent. Only a few of you had stayed in Austin - and of those few, the number had dwindled further as more time went by. “You definitely had an edge, though.”

“Did I?” He kept his eyes on the road. “How?”

“You played guitar. You played football. You were funny. We all knew you were off limits, but it didn’t stop us from looking.” He was quiet for almost a minute, and then said your name.

“Part of me regrets spendin’ almost my entire time in high school with ‘manda. But then I think about Sarah, and it’s … hard to feel that way.” You understood. When Amanda left him, the woman disappearing with little warning and moving to Seattle with someone she’d met at college, Joel had gone from a man that seemed to have everything figured out to one that was scrambling to survive.

He’d dropped out of college to become a single, full-time parent. He’d devoted his life to raising his daughter with some help from Tommy and his parents. And from what you knew thanks to Marlene, though he didn’t talk about Amanda much with Sarah, he’d never outright badmouthed her in front of the girl, either, because that’s the kind of man he was. “At least you got something great from your high school romance, Joel. Not all of us are that lucky.”

‘I did. She’s a pain in my ass sometimes, but I am damn lucky to have a kid like Sarah.” He cleared his throat. “We did say that we weren’t gonna talk about them tonight, though.”

“We did.” Biting your lip, you paused. But what do we pivot to? Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was just after 6:15, meaning that you were a little more than halfway to your destination. “Does Tommy know you’re coming with me tonight?” You traced a fingertip around one of the golden buttons on your pants, thinking. “I haven’t seen him in months, and -”

“He does.” Joel reached over, changing the radio station. “Seemed excited I was bringin’ a date, but I don’t know if that’s because he’s like Sarah and Ellie, or because it means that he can find someone else to hang out with tonight and doesn’t have to stick with me the whole time.” Joel nodded, his smile growing again. “I think it’s the second thing. And I think I know who he’s going to try to impress.”

“You do?” He nodded again, looking over at you briefly. “Will you tell me? And also, is there … anyone I need to know about that’ll be here tonight? Anything I should avoid talking about?”

“It’ll be easier to show you.” He shrugged.”There are a lot of people that’ll be here tonight that I don’t know. But there are plenty I can introduce you to when we see ‘em. If I just give you names, it’ll get confusing.” That made sense, and you told him as much, watching as you passed the sign for Ribelin Ranch Road. “We’re about ten minutes away.” Joel reached over, switching hands on the wheel so that he could settle his right one on your knee. “And like I said, we can go back tonight if you want. But there are two rooms, so -” No.

“I’m not going to ruin their sleepover.” You set your hand on top of his, the tip of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “We’ll stay. I don’t want you to keep yourself from having a good time just because you’re waiting to see if I want to go back.” Watching the path of your finger, you noticed a scar on the top of his hand, near the base of his thumb. Wonder what that’s from. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He sighed. “If you say so.”

—

The inside of the resort was gorgeous, and you didn’t know where you were supposed to look as you and Joel made your way through the lobby and toward the registration desk. “There are pictures of it everywhere, from before and after.” He pointed at a row of easels, large canvases with images displayed on each of them. “We had nothin’ to do with the guest rooms. Tommy an’ I were in charge of all the common areas, though. Out here. The dining room. Hallways. The ballroom and conference spaces.”

He gestured with one large hand, his smile growing, and when you looked over at him, you were grinning, too. “It’s beautiful, Joel. Your guys did amazing work from what I can see.”

“Wait til you see the room where the party is.” He settled his hand on your lower back, urging you forward. “C’mon. Let’s get our stuff upstairs so we can get a drink and onea those little cheese plates.”

But it wasn’t that simple - and the two of you were in for a surprise when you reached the check in desk.

“Your brother has already checked in.” The man behind the counter shook his head. “He said to leave the extra key down here for you.” He slid it across the counter in a small, dark green envelope. “Fifth floor.”

“It’s supposed to be two rooms.” Joel frowned, his head shaking back and forth. “There are three of us, and -”

“There was …” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “An unfortunate accident with one of the bathtubs on the fourth floor, and an entire set of rooms is now unavailable. You felt Joel deflate next to you, the man’s hand rising to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “So unfortunately, instead of two separate rooms, there is only one allocated for you. But the good news is that the fifth floor are -”

“The suites.” He laughed. “Got it.” Joel straightened up and took the key, tapping his fingers on the countertop. “Thanks for your help.”

You didn’t say anything as you headed for the elevators, and neither did Joel. So we only have one room. And that includes Tommy. Interesting.

When the doors slid shut, Joel finally swore, scrubbing a hand over his face and letting his overnight bag fall to the floor. “It’s going to be really cozy in that room, hmm?” You tried to lighten the mood, wincing as you leaned against the railing. “You and me and -”

“We’ll just drive back. I’m not makin’ you share a room with us.”

“If it’s a suite, maybe it has a pull out couch or a chaise or -”

“It does.” He laughed. “The suites on five have one king bed and a second sleeper in the main room.” He met your eyes. “And you’re not sleepin’ on a couch while I take a bed.” The doors opened, both of you stepping out into the hallway - which admittedly, was beautifully decorated. When you reached the door of your room, Joel swiped the card, waiting for it to beep before he pushed it open. “You first.”

You gasped when you stepped inside, dropping your bag before your steps quickened.

It was not only beautiful, but fully decorated for the holidays with greenery and soft lighting throughout, along with vibrant floral arrangements in key spaces. The room felt warm, and you detected a faint cinnamon smell, too, the scent pleasant and comforting. This is amazing. You crossed the room and went straight to the balcony door, settling your hand on the glass. “This view is … woah.”

He came up behind you, leaving just enough space to be appropriate, but you could feel him there, one of his arms rising so that he could point. “There’s a dock, over there.” You inhaled, leaning back slightly. “It’ll be lit up soon.” He pointed in a slightly different direction, humming. “There’s a pool that way, you can’t see it with the building in the way, but it’s nice.”

You could smell his cologne, the scent even stronger than it had been in his truck… but it was rich, enveloping you in the same type of warmth that Joel’s laugh did. “I bet it is.” You murmured the words, turning your head slightly toward his. “I’ll see it tomorrow morning.”

“No you won’t, because we’re goin’ home. I told you, you’re not sleepin’ on a couch.”

“Joel.” You turned to face him, the cool glass of the door making contact with the bared skin of your upper back. “There’s a solution here.” He blinked slowly, eyes moving over your face, though he stayed silent. “Would you and Tommy sleep on the couch together?”

His eyes flashed but he started laughing almost immediately, straight teeth visible before he ducked his head and took a half step closer. “Hilarious.” For the first time that night, you felt the pull between you strengthen - the tension dissipating within a few seconds and Joel’s laugh warming you from head to toe.

“You laugh, Miller, but I’m serious.” You weren’t - the real solution was that you and Joel shared the bed while Tommy slept on the couch, but you weren’t anywhere near brave enough to bring that up. Yet. Not yet. “Honestly, though. If you’re going to be worrying about us having to drive back, you won’t have fun. And if you won’t have fun, there’s no point in us being here.” Deciding to back up the point you were making, you reached out, setting your hand at the center of his chest, one of the buttons there pressing into the heel of your palm. “And I want to be here, Joel. With you.”

It took a few seconds, but Joel settled his hand atop yours, squeezing. He met your eyes again, a glint of playfulness back in them. “I want to be here with you, too.” He tilted his head to the right, hand sliding down just enough so that he could wrap his fingers around your thumb, grip tightening. “Somethin’ else I want to do, too.”

“You should do it then.” It felt like the air in the room was gone, Joel’s presence - and the look on his face enough to freeze you in place. But maybe he doesn’t mean…

He did, though - Joel barely waiting for your reply before he was leaning in, eyes flicking down to your lips and then back up. It was different than the one in the truck had been; much more intimate and somehow more meaningful.

It was you that moved to deepen it, your lips parting as you inhaled through your nose - free hand going to his hip and Joel’s lifting to rest against your cheek. You licked into his mouth, the motion deliberate, and Joel didn’t hesitate with his response. His body language changed when you initiated the intimacy, the man crowding you against the door and squeezing your hand, the thump of his heart steady beneath it.

And you didn’t mind - you wanted more, if you were being honest. More kisses, more of his weight against you, more of the sounds he made deep in his throat - more of him. You wanted to share the bed with him that night and other nights, and even though it was only the second date, you were certain of it.

“We can’t do this now.” He backed away enough so that he could tilt his head down and press his forehead to yours, his sigh loud. “We have to go downstairs. We have to go to the party.” You wondered if he was trying to convince you or himself, and decided that it didn’t matter - because he wasn’t doing a very good job of following through. He was still touching your face, thumb stroking over your cheek and jawline. “I want you to see all the hard work my guys did.” I want to see what you did.

“We do.” You nodded, though you also angled your head so that you could kiss him again, that one brief, Joel chasing your lips when you pulled away. “It would look really bad if you didn’t show up. And Tommy could walk in here at any second, which would be weird.”

That was what got him moving - Joel releasing you and backing away entirely, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. You’re right. We should get downstairs.”

“And to those cheese things.” You laughed, pushing yourself away from the door. “Whatever they are.” He watched you as you passed by, unzipping your bag and pulling out the smaller purse you’d brought specifically for the party - phone tucked safely inside already. You also grabbed the room key and slipped it into the front pocket, turning to face Joel again. “But I need to be honest with you.”

“About?” He finally moved, re-buttoning his shirt cuffs before grabbing his jacket and pulling it on, straightening the arms and shoulders even as he walked toward where you stood. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.” You reached for the door handle, still facing him. “I just wanted to tell you that … if you wanted to kiss me again tonight, I wouldn’t be that upset about it.” It wasn’t what he’d expected, and you were thrilled to have surprised him with your words, but Joel recovered quickly, closing the distance between you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Nodding once, he gestured to the door. “Let’s go downstairs.”

—

The first 40 minutes of the party was a whirlwind of introductions. Joel led you around the large ballroom, stopping you when you met people that he’d worked with or to point out his favorite parts of the architecture and the ones he’d had a hand in building and perfecting.

From what you could see, he was incredibly skilled. There were details in the wood that he’d hand carved - leaves and flowers and even a few smaller animals on a statement piece that was attached above the mantle of the oversized fireplace in the room next to the ballroom - a private lounge that was open for service that evening.

You’d found the cheese plates and a bunch of other assorted appetizers, too, both of you indulging while you mingled. Unlike the Chamber party, Joel rarely left your side that night… and if he did, it was barely for more than a few minutes at a time.

He seemed much more comfortable around you, and that included in showing affection. It wasn’t anything over the top, but he touched you often - a hand on your waist or his fingers running over the bare skin of your arms, his elbow bumping against yours when you stood side by side to converse with whoever it was that you happened to be speaking with.

That in turn emboldened you and encouraged you to touch him more - laying a hand on his bicep, reaching over to straighten the lapels of his jacket when he turned away from the fireplace to get your opinion on it… even linking your fingers with his while you walked between rooms and parts of rooms.

He didn’t shy away from it, which was a little bit of a surprise to you. But I won’t question it. I don’t want to. By the time you were making your way to the dining room for dinner, you and Joel were comfortable, the topic of going home instead of staying not coming up. You hadn’t run into Tommy, which was a shock, but that changed when you reached your table, the dark-haired man already sitting and deep in conversation with two other men.

“Joel! Hey!” One of the two - a man with piercing blue eyes and a jawline that could have been carved from marble - looked up and grinned, lifting a hand in a quick wave. “We were wondering when you’d get here.”

“Frank.” Joel smiled back and reached out, pulling your chair back from the table as he introduced you by name. “I was showin’ her around, and we lost track of time.”

“Sure you did.” Tommy laughed, looking away from the other man and up at you, the smile on his face wide and the corners of his eyes crinkled just like Joel’s. “Was she impressed?”

“She was.” You thanked Joel and then sat, eyes on Tommy. “But she also had a really crappy day at work and wanted dinner.” He laughed at you and when Joel took his seat to your right, Tommy’s eyes moved in that direction.

“Didn’t get much better when you got here did it, big brother?” He cocked an eyebrow, raising his glass to take a drink. “The one-room fiasco?”

“You and Joel are sleeping on the couch.” You didn’t pause before answering, eyes locked with his. “That bed looked really comfortable, so I’ll have to tell you all about it later.” Frank snorted, trying to disguise the sound by taking a drink, but everyone heard it.

“I sure as shit am not sleeping on the couch.” Tommy grinned, looking past you and lifting one finger. “Hell, I’m not even staying in that room tonight.” You didn’t understand, and if the confused hum from Joel was any indication, he didn’t either. But only moments later, another person appeared, dropping into the chair next to Tommy and immediately scooting closer. “Frank, Bill and Joel already know her, but this is Maria. She works in legal for the company that owns this place.”

You connected the dots immediately. Maria was the woman that Joel had mentioned in the car earlier, which meant he was right. And that means that it’ll be just me and Joel in there tonight, and... And that opened up possibilities - the two of you sharing the bed, one of you on the bed and the other on the couch, neither of you sleeping and instead staying up all night talking. I know which of those I’d prefer.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you murmured, nodding at the woman. “All of you, actually. I’ve been introduced to so many people tonight that it’s hard to keep up. But I think I’m going to remember all of your names, no problem.” Frank smiled broadly, raising his glass in a salute, but he used his other hand to squeeze Bill’s shoulder, his attention going to the slightly older - and much more stony-faced man.

“Same with you. And even though it might take him a minute to say it, Bill feels the same.”

“Sure.” The third man finally spoke up, his gaze sharp as he looked you over. “Any friend of Joels is …” He shrugged. “Welcome.” It startled you, but Tommy waved his hand, laughing.

“That’s just how Bill is, don’t take it personal.” Tommy winked at you. “But get him talking about what he did for this place, and he might never stop.”

“Yeah?” You sipped your drink, eyes moving between Bill and Frank as Tommy and Maria started talking. “I know Joel and Tommy actually worked on the construction, so how were you two involved?”

“I was commissioned to do a bunch of paintings.” Frank interjected, using one finger to swipe over his bottom lip. “But I wasn’t inspired when I first got here… at least until this one,” he continued, looking over at Bill and letting his expression soften. Oh… are they together? I never would have guessed. “He metaphorically pulled me out of a hole, and showed me more of the insides of this place and let me look through older pictures and files that had been packed away during the renovations. Don’t let him fool you, he’s prepared for anything.”

“I work in logistics.” Bill cleared his throat, eyes on you. “I like to plan. I like to be on top of things, so that I always know what to expect.” Frank nodded and so did Tommy, shooting a look at Joel and then at you. “This project was challenging, but that’s what I prefer.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply before servers began bringing food to the table along with bottles of red wine. Everything looked and smelled delicious, and as you started to eat and the conversation at the table picked up between couples again, you turned your attention to Joel.

“I’m having a good time.” Reaching over with one hand, you let it rest on his knee. “And I told you that everything would work out with the room.” He nodded twice, fork held between his fingers. “It looks like we’ve got it to ourselves.” His eyes widened at your words, the fork wavering slightly. You saw interest in his eyes, though, almost like the man was just realizing the potential impact of Tommy’s decision to stay with Maria.

“Hmm.” He took a bite, finally breaking eye contact. “We do, don’t we.”

“So what do you do?” Frank cut in, saying your name. “You know what we all do, but you haven’t mentioned your job.” You didn’t mind the interruption, and you were almost positive Joel didn’t either. Especially since there are so many other people in this room and at this table. With one final squeeze to his knee, you cleared your throat and turned you attention back to the others. Later. We’ll deal with … the implication of that later.

“I own a music store.” You watched Frank’s eyes widen further and Bill’s take on an actual glimmer of interest, so you continued. “It belonged to my friend Anna’s family. And when her parents weren’t able to keep up with it anymore, I took over.” Bill nodded, steepling his fingers together. “It’s been a few years but I like it. Keeps me busy, and even on bad days, like today, it’s worthwhile.”

“The best things in life usually are.” Frank raised his glass and the rest of you followed suit.

As dinner continued, the six of you delved deeper into conversation. You were even more at ease around Joel and his friends, and you knew that he could tell. A few times, he reached over and let his fingers trail over the space between your shoulderblades, the warmth of his fingers a welcome distraction, and something you watched Tommy take note of, the man meeting your gaze instead of Joel’s and giving you an almost imperceptible nod.

It was a little thing, but it was enough - Tommy’s approval was important to you, and you knew it was to Joel, as well.

But when the dinner plates had been cleared and people began to get up, you were unsure of what came next.

That turned out to be Tommy pulling you off to the side and leaving Joel to talk to Frank and Bill, the three men staying at the table while you walked away and toward the bar.

He didn’t pull any punches with his words, Tommy’s arms crossed over his chest as he eyed you. “You like him, don’t you.”

“I do.” You nodded, not looking away. “Ellie and Sarah are responsible for this, but I’m glad that it’s happening.”

“Heard about that.” He smiled wider, running his fingers through his curly hair. “I stopped over for breakfast this week, and she was gloating. But he didn’t give her shit the way he usually does when she teases him. He just kind of … seemed excited. I thought it was just the Commerce party, but then he told me about tonight.” Excited? That’s… interesting. “And that’s why when they told me we only had one room, I wanted to make sure I didn’t fuck this up for you.”

“Tommy, you’re not -”

“Stop. I mean it. It’s no big deal. I don’t know if Joel told you, but I’ve been into Maria for months, and since we’re not workin’ together right now… I’ve got a shot.”

“Well then I don’t want to ruin that for you. Do you need to come back in and get your stuff?” He shook his head no, his eyes moving off and to the right before they returned to your face. “Why -”

“Incoming.” He winked and then reached out, squeezing both of your arms. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Before you had a chance to reply, he was gone, leaving you standing in front of a fake, though well decorated tree. What was that about?

“Hey. He botherin’ you?” Spinning around toward the sound of the voice, you were met with the sight of Joel, his arms hanging by his slides. But wait, he… He’d removed the jacket and undone another of the buttons on his shirt, making him look a little less put together but no less handsome. And he rolled up the sleeves. Wow. He looks … “Hmm?”

“No.” You swallowed, closing your eyes. “No, he was just telling me that now he’s in on the matchmaking, because as soon as he found out about the room, he made other plans so we could be alone.”

“Of course he did.” Joel shook his head slowly, glancing down. “Shit.” You had to laugh with him, leaning forward and taking one of his hands. He let you, curling his fingers around yours and then releasing them, the man angling his hand so that he could then lace your fingers together. “I’m not complainin’.”

He went quiet, the two of you just staring at each other as Carol of the Bells played softly in the background. You wanted to keep that moment going - wanted to prolong the two of you standing in a room that he’d helped to build with the sights and smells of Christmas around you, Joel’s attention focused entirely on you. But we can’t. We can’t, and we need to get back to the party. “I’m not either.” Giving his hand one last squeeze, you let it go, watching as Joel crossed his strong arms over his chest, still watching you.

“D’you wanna come with me?” He gestured with one thumb to the main ballroom, brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I wanna introduce you to the project manager. She’s the last person I want you to meet, and then we can … relax.” You wondered if he meant at the party or somewhere else, but decided it didn’t matter.

“Yes. Introduce me.” You nodded, looking over his shoulder. “Where is -”

That was as far as you got, because Joel moved quickly, stepping toward you and slipping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You gasped in surprise, both brows shooting up - but caught the smirk on his face before he kissed you again, the taste of bourbon and coffee on his tongue.

He didn’t seem to care that there were people around - which was a difference from the previous night - and you were thankful.

Because you wanted to keep kissing him. You wanted to wrap yourself in him, for the two of you to keep each other occupied long into the night. And even though you were careful to keep your hands above his waist; one of them settled against his exposed forearm and the other arm slung over his shoulder so that you could twist the ends of his hair around your fingertips, you allowed yourself to press your body to his.

His fingers pressed into your lower back - the edges of his nails digging into your skin, though not painfully - and when he sighed against your lips, you realized that not only was he making good on his promise from earlier, he was expanding on it. And that’s good. You hummed when you pulled back, swallowing before you let out a shaky breath, eyes opening to meet his. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” The pressure of his hand decreased, his touch once again light, but still reassuring. Go for it. He needs to hear it. “What’s -”

“If you kiss me like that again, you better not stop.”

He froze at your words, his eyes flashing, but then with a single nod he agreed, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s go talk to the boss, and then we’ll see how long you keep askin’ me not to stop.” It was your turn to freeze, your stomach bottoming out at the innuendo. “Alright?”

You made the decision in a split second, your hand sliding down Joel’s arm until you could take his hand, linking your fingers together. “Alright.”

You walked through the room and into the second of the two lounges - the one that would serve as the lobby bar - and Joel paused in the doorway, head turning from side to side. You took the opportunity to take in the decor there - dark wood and bronze throughout, an even darker floor, flickering lights that were hung from exposed beams overhead.

The entire thing was designed to be rustic and cozy, and when your eyes lingered on the wall behind the bar - latticework in one of the most intricate designs you’d ever seen - you gasped. “What?” He turned his head toward you, frowning. “You ok?”

“You did that, didn’t you.” You let go of his hand, stepping forward and resting your elbows on the edge of the smooth bartop. “All of that carving. All of the -”

“He did.” A female voice cut in from your right, and it was full of pride. “Spent three weeks gettin’ it just right.” Turning toward the sound, you met warm hazel eyes, the woman nodding. “I knew hiring Joel would get the job done, but I had no idea he’d do it so well.” She extended her hand, her smile widening. “I’m Tess Servopoulos. They refer to me as the boss around here.”

You shook her hand, giving yourself a moment to stare before introducing yourself. She was extraordinarily pretty, maybe a few years older than Joel at most - hair in a half updo, curls cascading over her shoulders. She was petite but looked strong, and when she nodded, the smile turning into a smirk, you felt her squeeze your hand before she let go.

“We came in here to find you, Tess.” Looking over at Joel, you smiled, too. “He wanted to introduce me, but I got distracted by the -”

“It’s just some latticework.” Joel moved to stand next to you, his hand once again resting at your waist while the other reached upward to rub at the back of his neck. “And the mirrors cover up a lot of it, so -”

“Give yourself some damn credit, Joel.” Tess rolled her eyes, looking briefly at him and then back at you. “He also built the bar himself. And the wine rack, and the liquor shelves. He was ahead of schedule with the rest of it, so I gave him the go ahead to do whatever he wanted in here, and…” She gestured with one hand, and for the first time you saw the diamond on her finger, accompanied by a wedding band as it glinted in the light shining down from the garland above. “I couldn’t be happier if I fuckin’ tried.”

You laughed at how blunt she was, but you could tell she was serious - and you appreciated it. “From what I’ve seen, this place is beautiful. All of it… not just the parts he did.” Looking back at Joel again, you saw that he was watching you with curiosity, head tilted slightly downward and his chin tucked against the top of his shoulder. “I bet you’ll be booked solid when you open.”

“We are.” She nodded, the note of pride coming back into her voice. “Grand opening’s January 5th, and we’re booked solid through Valentine’s Day already.” It didn’t surprise you, especially after everything you’d seen, and you took the opportunity to slip your arm around Joel’s waist, the soft material of his shirt smooth under your palm. “I’m disappointed my husband and son won’t get to see it before we open, but …” Tess shrugged. “Ice storm closed the airport in Detroit, so they couldn’t make it tonight.”

“Aw, Tess. I’m sorry.” Joel sighed from next to you. “I know you haven’t seen ‘em in a while since you’ve been out here. You were lookin’ forward to -”

“I was.” She smiled, though the expression was sad. “I’m actually flying out tomorrow. I found a last minute flight to Cleveland, and it’s only a couple hours back by car. There’s no way in Hell I’d make Avery drive and then fly and then drive with Jake, so…” She shrugged again, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “They’ll get to be at the opening of the next one.” Her eyes slid to Joel, lingering for a second before they moved back to you. “And maybe you will, too. With Joel.”

“What?” You were confused, frowning before you tilted your head to the side. “I don’t know what you mean. Why would -”

“You didn’t tell her?” Tess laughed, her eyes widening. “Brought her here as a date, and didn’t tell -”

“I haven’t told anyone yet.” Joel cleared his throat. “I was waitin’ until we knew for sure, and that call last night confirmed it, but …” He said your name, fingers curling slightly. “Guess it’s time.”

“What Joel isn’t saying is that we… my company, I mean … has decided to keep Miller Contracting on retainer for the next five years. We have a lot of projects coming up, and after seeing the work that Tommy and Joel did here, we’d be fools to let them go. He might be the muscle, but I’m the brains of the operation, and …” Her smile warmed as she focused on Joel again. “I’m not an idiot. I know I need ‘em.”

You were simultaneously thrilled for him and saddened by the fact that such extensive work likely meant he’d be gone for months at a time. But it’s what he wants. Success. Stability. Work for him and Tommy that’ll allow him to pay for Sarah’s college. “That’s… wow.” You nodded, wetting your lips. “You’re lucky to have him, Tess. That sounds like an incredible opportunity.”

“It is.” Joel spoke again, his voice low. “It’s the one we’ve been waitin’ for.” He cleared his throat, continuing. “But we’ll let you get on with your night, Tess. Don’t want to take up too much more of your time. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of people to mingle with, and I need another drink, so…”

“Yeah. I should get out there.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “It was nice to meet you, though. I hope you enjoy the rest of the party.” You replied with the same and assured her that you would, and then you watched as Tess turned and slipped away through the crowd, leaving you and Joel where you stood.

Neither of you spoke, but he turned to face you, his hand moving from your back to your hip and settling into place. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. That call I had to step out last night to take was them officially offerin’ the contract to me, and I had to bring Tommy in on it, and …” He shrugged. “I was gonna tell Sarah on Christmas, and …”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Frowning, you bit down on the inside of your lower lip. “This is an amazing opportunity for you, Joel. And you did say that you didn’t date much because you’ve been focused on work, so I can’t be surprised, and -” He reached up, sliding his palm along your jaw and tilting your head. “Joel?”

“This means that I won’t need to take as many little projects to make money as I used to.” His eyes locked with yours, he kept speaking. “I can focus on the big ones. Tess is bein’ real generous with us, and havin’ her company backin’ us means we can move forward a lot faster when it comes to supplies and findin’ people locally to work. It ain’t all on me anymore, and I can spend more time doin’ what I’m good at.” He turned your head toward the bar, his touch gentle. “Like that. Woodworkin’. Building things. I can supervise and -”

“Joel.” You turned your head back to meet his eyes, and he moved his hand to rest it on your shoulder. “You don’t owe me an explanation. This is a good thing. I’m happy for you. I’m excited.” You were - it was the truth. But you were also sad, because over the course of the previous week, you’d allowed yourself to imagine more of him in your life. And now he’ll be traveling for work more often, so that might not be possible. “Think of how many people will see your work. Think about how proud Sarah’s going to be.”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, taking and then releasing a deep breath. “Do you want to get another drink? I hope that didn’t ruin the night. I don’t want it to.” He paused. “That’s actually the last damn thing I …”

He meant it. You heard it in his voice and saw the look in his eyes, realizing that Joel had also likely thought about what more travel meant once he was talking about it with you in front of him. And that’s enough. “You ruined nothing, Joel.” Taking a step back from him, you gave him what you hoped was a convincing smile. “Now let’s go and get that drink and you can tell me more about what this new contract means.”

—

An hour and a half later, you and Joel had had two additional drinks, and you’d learned much more about what Tess’ offer entailed.

He was enthusiastic about the opportunity - about what it meant for him and Tommy, and by extension, Sarah, even though she’d likely be out of the house to begin college before he had to be onsite full time for the first project.

Much of the work could be done remotely during the planning stages, meaning that Joel’s extensive time away from home would only fall during the actual construction months. He’d spend the majority of his time in Texas, where he was free to work on whatever he chose to do - as long as it didn’t interfere with the work for Tess. The first project wasn’t scheduled to begin until the end of February, and it was close - in Colorado Springs.

“How do you feel about it?” He leaned against the bar, elbow resting on the top of it and his chin firmly settled on the knuckles of his balled-up fist. “About the -”

“I’m excited for you.” You sipped your drink, letting your eyes wander around the room. “I hope you’ll show me pictures of what you -”

He interrupted you, the look in his eyes going hard, even though you saw the apprehension in them, too. “No. I mean… how do you feel about spendin’ more time now with someone that might be gone a lot later?” Oh. Oh, he … Your mouth opened but nothing came out, eyes locked on his face. “I know we’ve only gone out twice, but …” Joel shrugged, sitting up straight and lowering his hand to run his fingertips over the smooth wood between the two of you. “But I’d like it to be more than that. I just don’t know how you feel about … there bein’ months where I’m out of state. Where I’m busy. I know you can’t just leave the shop, but …”

“Joel, I …” You blinked, covering your mouth in surprise. “I dont…” He was putting you on the spot, there was no question about it. And with anyone else, this would feel … strange. It would be too much, too soon. But … But it was Joel, and he’d always been honest. He didn’t have time to beat around the bush, or sugarcoat things. He had to be upfront when it came to his life and what it was possible for him to give to anyone else in it. And he’s not asking for a commitment, just … trying to see how I feel. “It changes nothing for me.”

It felt good to say the words - and to mean them - and you saw the look in his eyes change at your admission. “What?”

“You heard me.” Sliding your hand forward, you found his, fingers gliding up and settling atop his knuckles. You traced over the scar you’d seen earlier with the tip of your thumb, glancing down and then back up, meeting his eyes. “You already told me that you didn’t like texting, so at least I know I’d get to hear your voice over the phone while you were gone.” You pressed down, letting the weight of your hand rest heaving on his. “And Colorado’s only a short flight away, right? If … if it got to that point, flying back and forth wouldn’t be … terrible.”

It wasn’t something you’d thought about for more than a few minutes, but as the words spilled from your lips, you realized that they were your honest feelings. “You’d want that?”

“I’d definitely be willing to try it.” You nodded, scooting closer. “I’ve had a lot of fun with you the last two nights, Joel. And that’s been with all of this holiday bullshit and the pressure of them being first dates. It’s not like you’re moving across the country or would be gone six months out of the year back to back.”

“Good.” Joel wet his lips, and then used his free hand to raise his drink, tipping his head back to finish it off in one long gulp. “I was hopin’ you’d say that.” Using his thumb to swipe at his lips, Joel got to his feet, looking down at where you still sat. “Want to go back into the other room? See if we can find Tommy or Bill’n Frank?” You glanced away from him and at the clock, idly stirring the remaining ice cubes in your mostly-gone drink.

It was only a little after ten, and you knew the party would likely go on for hours, since most of the attendees were staying in the hotel. “We could do that.” You nodded, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you locked eyes with him again. All he can do is say no. All he can do is … “But there’s something I’d like to do even more than that, Joel.”

You turned in your seat, facing him head on and watching as Joel stepped closer again, one hand on his hip. “Yeah? What’s that?” He’d been receptive to everything you’d said previously - every suggestion and reply had been met with interest at the very least and enthusiasm in most cases. And that’s good. It means he might … want this too.

“You can say no.” You paused, biting the inside of your lower lip and closing your eyes briefly. “But I’d … we have the room to ourselves tonight, Joel. This is the most privacy we’ll have for …” You wrinkled your nose and he did the same, holding back a smile, his lips twitching with the effort. “For who knows how long. And I wouldn’t be opposed to taking advantage of that.”

“That’s what you want to do?” You nodded, sucking in a quick breath at the way his voice dropped, his eyes darkening. “Well then what the hell are we waitin’ for?”

You didn’t have an answer. And when he reached out, waiting for you to take his hand so that he could help you to your feet, you couldn’t look away from him, matching the smile on his face with one of your own. Is this happening? Is it really … shit.

To get back to the elevators, you had to walk through the main ballroom, where various groups of people were gathered. Some of them - like Tommy and Maria - were dancing, others were just drinking - but you caught Bill and Frank sitting on a couch together by the fireplace, the older man holding an almost full tumbler of something between his fingers, his eyes on Frank, who was animatedly talking to Tess, who sat on a chair across from them.

But you and Joel went straight past them and into the main hallway, the man only stopping as you were about to pass the photo booth that was set up toward the reception area. “What?” Looking over, you tipped your head to the right. “Why’d you stop?”

“We should get our picture taken.” He blinked twice, squaring his shoulders. “I put the jacket back upstairs already, but …” You didn’t care - and to be honest, thought he looked better without it, the rolled up sleeves and partially unbuttoned dress shirt only making him more attractive. “Be a good thing to have, hmm?”

You were surprised at the suggestion but agreed, squeezing Joel’s hand and joining the short line without saying anything else.

It was your turn after only a few minutes, and when you and Joel stepped in front of the shimmering golden backdrop, he didn’t hesitate to put his arm around you, pulling you closer. It made you laugh, one hand moving over to steady yourself against his broad frame - and during that laugh, you saw the camera flash twice before you got yourself under control. “Two more shots for the strip.” The woman behind the camera spoke up, peeking around the edge of it. “Those two were good, though.”

“Just do a normal smile,” you mumbled, repositioning yourself with one arm around his waist as Joel draped one of his over your shoulders. That was an easy photo, but once it was taken, Joel said your name, urging you to turn toward him. “What?”

He surprised you when he leaned in, eyes partially closed, the hand on your shoulder moving to the back of your neck to angle your head perfectly, the press of his lips to yours a welcome result of the guidance.

You were aware of the flash but didn’t care, continuing to kiss Joel until he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours and grinning. “That’s enough.” You laughed too, hoping to disguise your shaky breath. “Don’t wanna traumatize the poor camera woman.”

“Thanks for that.” The girl laughed. “You can pick up the pictures from the table to the right. Do you want two of them?”

He agreed, nodding as he backed away and thanked her. But when you met the girl’s eyes she was grinning, giving you a not-so-subtle thumbs up and a wink as you followed him. It only took a few seconds for the machine to spit them out - two copies of the four-picture strips, followed by two more prints of him with his forehead pressed to yours and dopey smiles on both of your faces. Look at us.

Joel handed both sets to you, wrinkling his nose. “You keep these safe. Was plannin’ on showing them to Sarah, but now …”

“Maybe we ease into it, hmm?” You groaned, stepping beside him as he pushed the button to call the elevator. “Show them the first two of us laughing, and then in a little while, after they’ve seen us spend some more time together in person, we can show ‘em the other two.”

“There are three,” he replied as he tapped his foot on the ground, waiting. “That last one is -”

“Not for the seventeen year olds.” No, that’s just for us. “Not yet.” He agreed a few seconds later, and when the doors slid open revealing an empty elevator, Joel didn’t hesitate to pull you inside, crowding you against the railing inside. “Joel, what -”

He reached over and somehow pushed the right button without backing away from you, and when you began to ascend, he kissed you again, that one much less gentle than for the photos. You groaned against his lips, both hands grasping at his shirt and pulling him closer. This is happening.

He didn’t break the kiss even when you stepped out and onto your floor, Joel leading you down the hall and to the room before reaching into his back pocket for the key with one hand, his tongue stroking along yours before he took your lower lip between his teeth, tugging it outward at the same time as he swiped the key through the lock.

You were dizzy from his proximity when you stumbled over the threshold and into the room, the door closing moments later and Joel pressing your back against it the same way he had against the glass earlier, though that press was accompanied by a slow rocking of his hips against yours, too. “You tell me to stop and I will.” He forced the words out, grunting quietly before kissing you again. “But I want -”

Pushing him away with one hand, you blinked the man into focus, letting out a slow breath as you eyed him in the dim glow of the Christmas lights that were hung throughout the room, the light surrounding his head - and the hair you’d disheveled with your hands - like a halo. “What did I say before, Joel?” He smiled, the expression spreading over his face slowly. “You better not stop.”

---

The drink Joel was drinking is real and it sounds both delicious and perfect for him: The Revolver

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories secret santa #pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift2023 #pedro pascal character #no outbreak au #pedro pascal masterlist #joel miller masterlist #snow and mistletoe

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, love your work and I hope you are having a great day. If it isn't too much to ask, could you do a imagine where team Defy and AR team travels to an alternate timeline where S/O is a Big Boss like status (owns his own army)? Would be cool to see their reactions compared to normal version(s).

(GFL) AR and DEFY meeting their S/O in an alternate timeline

AR: M4A1, ST AR-15, M4 SOPMOD II, M16A1, RO635 DEFY: AK-12, AN-94, AK-15, RPK-16, Angelia

You activated my sleeper agent response by mentioning Metal Gear, and I love Metal Gear. I hope you're happy now, because this post is 10x longer than what you probably imagined it to be.

M4 fell in love with one of the human officers of Griffin.

They were casual, quite teasing, but most of all, optimistic.

Despite World War 3 passing, their job as a mercenary, and their war with Sangvis, S/O had faith in her, the rest of Griffin, and humanity.

They believed that one day, humanity would be able to live without fear of eradicating itself.

M4 still had no idea how she ended up in another timeline, frankly she thought it was impossible, yet instead of an arctic base, she found herself in the middle of the ocean on top of a metallic catwalk.

Soldiers wearing uniforms she didn't recognize surrounded her, all pointing their weapons.

M4 reached for her own and pointed it back, quickly trying to scan who her attackers were.

Only to realize that she recognized some of the faces, they were other human personnel under Griffin.

They must have recognized her too, judging by their shocked faces, and the way they looked at her.

(S/O's Voice) "...M4?"

From the crowd of soldiers, S/O waded their way towards the front, making M4 lower her weapon.

S/O wore some kind of battle fatigues, a patchwork of newer equipment and an old red Griffin Uniform. An black patch covered their right eye, and they looked far more tired than she had ever seen them before.

(M4A1) "...S/O? What's going on, why are you wearing that?"

(S/O) "Is...Is that really you?"

Before M4 could say anything else, S/O wrapped her in the tightest hug she had ever received from them.

The soldiers quickly backed off and saluted, giving the two alone time once they confirmed there was no threat.

Taking them to a private room, S/O slumped down in the chair and closed their eyes while M4 examined the room in curiousity.

There was not much in the bedroom, only their bed, a shelf full of pictures, and weapons.

Half the pictures she recognized were S/O with M4, AR Team, the Commander, and many other people.

The other half seemed to be brand new, all sporting the uniforms she saw outside.

(S/O) "...You're not my M4, are you?"

(M4A1) "And you're not my S/O."

The two of them looked at each other silently, but S/O still relented, sighing in what she assumed to be a mixture of defeat yet acceptance.

(M4A1) "Then if I may ask, what happened? Judging from your tone, I'm not around anymore."

====

S/O remained silent as they tapped their finger idly against their leg. Their eye seemed to be swirling with emotions, nothing to say of their facial expression as it scrunched up in debate.

They sighed, motioning to the chair across from them. M4 slowly walked over and sat herself, her full attention given to S/O.

(S/O) "It was nine years ago. Griffin's main base came under attack, AR Team and all of the other T-Dolls were the first line of defense."

They turned to face M4, their uncovered eye staring at her with a mixture of sorrow and affection.

(M4A1) "Was it Sangvis?"

S/O nodded and turned away again, closing their eyes as their head faced the ceiling now.

(S/O) "They put everything into their assault, and the end result was that we tore each other to shreds...You, the rest of the Anti-Rain, everyone else...There weren't exactly a lot of us left...You died protecting me."

M4 chose to say nothing, her metaphorical heart aching for S/O. They had always been so full of life and energy, and seeing them with barely anything in their eye left was a pain she didn't know she could feel.

(S/O) "The only survivors were myself, a couple of the guys you saw outside, a handful of T-Dolls, Kalina, and the Commander. It was in the aftermath I learned what we had been fighting for was a lie. Why we fought Sangvis, why we fought at all..."

Their hand clenched, slamming it on the table.

(S/O) "All the friends we lost that day. Every life lost. For fucking nothing. And the higher ups knew the entire time. The Commander wanted us to stick together, I wanted to make the rest of Griffin and Sangvis pay."

(M4A1) "You're at war with Griffin?"

(S/O) "We still are."

(M4A1) "B-But, how could you...?! After everything we-"

(S/O) "I lost my faith in Griffin a long time ago, M4. It died the same day you did."

They got up from their seat and reached for M4's face, gently caressing it. M4 let their hand stay a moment before slowly lifting it off, making S/O walk toward the door.

(S/O) "M16 was the one who convinced me to choose my own path, actually. She's still around, though she's part of Sangvis."

(M4A1) "M16...?"

(S/O) "I want a world where soldiers like us can live without being used as tools. That is why I want Sangvis and Griffin dead."

They turned to her one last time and closed their eye, facing the door after a moment had passed.

(S/O) "I don't know how you got here, but go home, M4. This isn't your war."

====

M4 wanted so desperately to try and comfort the S/O of this time, but knew she could do nothing.

Their cold monotone voice replaced the warm and joyous tone she had grown so accustomed to.

Nothing she could say or do could convince them otherwise. M4 still believed in Griffin, no matter what.

Realizing that, she had no choice.

M4 would have to fight S/O.

M4 immediately engaged S/O in combat, though she was completely blindsided by how deadly they were in close quarters.

Even though she was a mechanical being, S/O was able to match her blow for blow, when the S/O she had known had received only basic training.

And it was then she realized that some of their combat skills were in fact her own.

M4 saw the way S/O reloaded their weapons, threw her against the ground and even dove for cover. It was a mixture of the training she gave them, and more than likely their own experience after nine years.

They were more than a match for her, which horrified M4 to no end.

S/O was never in a combat role in her world, she could not imagine what they had gone through here.

And the absolutely loyalty S/O commanded in their troops as they engaged her was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

They had such absolute confidence in them, even when they were getting injured or worse, they fought on in S/O's presence.

It was almost cult-like in the way they refused to yield no matter how dire.

But before she could make any meaningful progress against S/O, she was forcibly yanked back into her world.

Something she was thankful for. M4 wasn't entirely sure just how much longer she could stomach that timeline.

====

(S/O) "M4! There you are, you've been gone all day!"

M4 eyes fluttered open, reaching for her head and seeing the light come into the room.

S/O was in their Griffin uniform, both of their eyes looking at her with a modicum of concern.

(S/O) "Wow, you're looking pale. Heh, I didn't know you could!...Oh, that's probably not good."

M4 blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Checking her weapon, it was definitely used, which meant what she had seen actually happened.

(S/O) "M4?"

M4 said nothing and instead hugged S/O with an iron grip.

(M4A1) "I-I'm sorry...Could I bother you to stay like this for a while, S/O?"

(S/O) "Sure, but...what happened?"

(M4A1) "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

(S/O) "Try me."

(M4A1) "Well, I just met you from another timeline. And you almost killed me."

(S/O) "...Okay you were probably right, I don't believe that for a second. I can't even beat SOPMOD Jr. in an arm wrestle!"

M4 chuckled and continued holding them, not wanting to think about the horrific 'what if' scenario she had witnessed.

She doesn't bring it up again afterwards, but makes sure to keep an eye on what missions she was assigned afterwards, especially concerning S/O.

STAR is both amazed and in utter confusion that alternate timelines actually exist.

Let alone something so similar to her own world.

But when she sees S/O not looking too dissimilar from M16, her thoughts screech to a complete halt.

(ST AR-15) "What the hell happened to you, S/O...?!"

Seeing their eyepatch, their new robotic arm, and their own PMC was almost enough to fry the logic circuits in her head.

But what broke STAR was how tired and scarred S/O looked, the spark in their eyes had vanished a long time ago it seemed.

STAR wanted nothing more to comfort them, but upon learning what S/O's goals now were, she could not in good conscious get near them.

She tried to justify in her head in order to fight, they only looked like the person she loved.

And she was right to do so, since S/O and their men had adopted the same mindset.

It threw her off with how well S/O had combatted her, in fact they had surpassed her in some aspects which almost got her killed.

Before anything too dire could happened, she was brought back to her own S/O, needing to remind herself that this S/O was hers.

(S/O) "STAR, you're being a little more clingy than usual. Something happen?"

(ST AR-15) "Be quiet for a second, okay...H-Hang on a second, I am not that clingy!"

STAR doesn't dare bring up once what she saw, attributing it all to some weird fever dream, despite the fact it was impossible for her to do so.

(SOPMOD) "...Neat, this place looks new!"

When SOPMOD first sees S/O, she honestly thinks it's just some new outfit they decided to wear, nevermind the fact she had literally been teleported.

Her cheerful energy dissipates once she sees that this S/O was not at all entertained by her usual tone.

It was enough to make SOPMOD go on guard from the moment she arrived.

Surprisingly, she is quickly able to grasp that this S/O had gone off the deep end and was ready to fight.

Her ferocity in combat is matched by S/O's skill, but only barely.

It surprised SOPMOD that they were even able to withstand being on the opposite end of her barrel, given how they were able to dodge a majority of her attacks.

When SOPMOD is brought back to her timeline, she just rushes up to S/O.

(SOPMOD) "Oh my god, that was SO WEIRD! You had an eyepatch and you kind of reminded me of a pirate!"

(S/O) "...But that doesn't tell me where you've been all day, though."

(SOPMOD) "I was probably asleep, I must have been to think of that kinda thing!"

(S/O) "Hah, well I guess you have an active imagination!"

SOPMOD decides its for the best that it was some strange dream she had.

She especially keeps out of mind the fact S/O's robotic limb was in fact her own replaced arm, and how sad they looked.

No matter what happened, SOPMOD would never let S/O look like that!

(M16A1) "...I think I've had too much Jack Daniels tonight."

M16 is convinced what she's seeing is some hyper-realistic drinking induced coma.

Or whatever the T-Doll equivalent of it was.

Because it sure as hell wasn't natural.

When she meets S/O, M16 is about to crack a joke about them stealing her eyepatch, stopping when she sees how depressed and tired they were in comparison to their normal selves.

M16 doesn't fight back at all, listening to what S/O had told her about Griffin and Sangvis.

She wasn't surprised at all, since she knew far more than what she was supposed to as well.

Especially in regards to Griffin's secrets.

M16 never engaged in combat with S/O, instead watching them train their men.

She would normally make all sorts of jokes and tease S/O, but given the circumstances they were in, she didn't have the heart to do so.

It was impressive, but tragic S/O had to become as skilled of a fighter as they currently were.

Getting back was a jarring shift for M16, though she was not even in the alternate timeline for long.

(S/O) "Hey, you alright? You look a bit out of it."

(M16) "Eh? I-I'm fine, thanks."

M16 doesn't bring it up, but from then on, she seems to be lost in thought more often when she sits by herself.

(M16A1) "...Griffin's secrets, huh...?"

RO own train of thoughts could not function as she witnessed a brand new environment materializing around her, despite the fact she was just in an office room not a second ago.

Seeing S/O, RO's first instinct is to help them and check for injuries based on their appearance.

She halts herself once she realizes this S/O was far different than the one she had grown to love.

Looking at their eyes alone was enough to tell her that the person she fell in love with died, and what stood before her was just a husk.

RO does not even hesitate in fighting S/O, though she is quickly overpowered in terms of skill by S/O, to the point it startled her.

What the hell happened in those nine years for a human to match a T-Doll in combat capability?!

As she's thrusted back into her own world, the first thing she saw was S/O looking back at her with a smile and both eyes in tact.

(RO635) "S/O! I swear, nothing will hurt you!"

(S/O) "WOAH! Heh, t-thank you, RO. I didn't realize you'd get like this after being gone for a couple hours."

(RO635) "Hours?...I-I see. I must have fallen asleep then."

(S/O) "...RO?"

(RO635) "Nevermind me, S/O. I have to make sure that AR Team hasn't burned itself down while I've been gone. You're coming with."

RO drags S/O by the hand to see the rest of her squadmates. Half because she was genuinely worried about what shenanigans they had gotten up to, but the other half was to calm herself down.

What had happened couldn't have been real.

...Right?

(AK-12) "...Something must be wrong with my scanners."

12 refused to believe what she was seeing was real.

But it couldn't have been someone hacking her systems. She would have noticed immediately.

When she opened her eyes and saw S/O with an eyepatch and robotic limb, she was immediately convinced someone was playing a prank or trying to confuse her.

Seeing how dead inside S/O looked was enough to convince 12 that whatever this was, it wasn't going to work, and immediately reached for her weapons, smile vanishing completely.

12 commends this look alike that they were able to at least match her in combat, but she still had the upper hand.

But she was going to tear this S/O look alike limb from limb for impersonating such a loving person.

When she realizes she's no longer in that timeline, she's doubly convinced that someone had messed with her systems, or that she had not run proper diagnostics.

Especially when S/O came to greet her with a loving hug.

(S/O) "12!...Oh wow, that's a pretty serious expression. Something going on?"

(AK-12) "Hm?...Ah, it's nothing, S/O. I think I just need some maintenance."

12 stared at her with open eyes, just to make sure the one she was seeing was the proper S/O.

(AK-12) "...A smile suits you better, S/O."

(AN-94) "...I do not comprehend what I am seeing."

94 cannot compute what just happened. One moment she was in DEFY's dorms, and the next she was in the middle of the ocean.

She immediately assumes something is trying to hack into her systems the entire time, and has her weapon raised.

Though when S/O arrives, she hesitates for the slightest moment before going back on guard.

S/O should not look as blank as her own face, which steeled herself even harder.

In combat, 94 and this fake S/O seemed to be nearly a perfect match, but her being a T-Doll gave her the upper hand.

When she blinked, she was suddenly in S/O's bedroom, reaching for a gun that wasn't there.

(S/O) "Woah! 94, what's going on? Why are you like that?"

(AN-94) "...I request to see an engineer. I believe something is wrong with my digi-mind."

(S/O) "...O-Okay?"

94 has an iron grip on S/O's hand the entire time, not budging nor really giving a reason why.

Whatever she saw left her horribly confused. Especially that vision of S/O, it pained her to see them without that usual smile on their face.

She didn't realize how much she would miss it when it wasn't there.

(AK-15) "It'll take more than an optical illusion to make me falter."

15 immediately assumed that she was under attack and reached for her weapons.

And upon seeing unknown soldiers descend upon her, 15's training immediately kicks in to subdue them.

Even though one of them wore S/O's face, it did not make her stop to think about her situation for even a second.

She raised a single eyebrow when the fake S/O seemed to be almost on par with her close quarters fighting, but it made her take the threat of whatever was happening far more seriously.

15 was far too busy to process what she was seeing in the heat of the moment, but it was when she returned to a non-combat state once more did the image of S/O sink in.

They looked as blank as she did, which troubled her.

Although S/O's teasing and loudness was annoying at times, she did not want to think about if they had lost their love for life and the rest of DEFY.

But she stopped thinking about it, and began to think more pragmatically.

(AK-15) "S/O. I request for you to remain the same as you always have."

(S/O) "Awww, does that mean you love my antics?"

(AK-15) "I did not say that."

(S/O) "But your face is telling me-...H-Hey, you look really serious. Did something happen while you were out?-"

15 held S/O tightly, and rested her head against their shoulder.

(AK-15) "...No. I just experienced a strange sensation, and had an the engineers fix a potential issue."

(RPK-16) "...Well, this is not what I expected to happen when I woke up today."

Unlike the rest of DEFY, 16 knows what she's seeing is real.

It intrigued her to how she arrived, but the main star of her interest arrived, that person being S/O.

But the way they looked was drastically different from the one she knew.

And they looked...somehow less human than before.

Their eyes looked machine-like. 16 had seen T-Dolls with more life and human-like qualities than what she was seeing in S/O right now.

Upon learning what happened, 16 remains quiet. So this is what they would become like should DEFY fall in combat.

Well, that was one curiousity satiated.

And she knew immediately that she hated this curiousity.

16 was a support gunner and not a close combat fighter, so for this terrible parody of S/O to overpower her was not surprising in the slightest.

When 16 blinked and found herself back in her room, she breathed a sigh of relief. She had no idea what veil of madness she entered, but she was glad to be out of it.

(RPK-16) "S/O, do me a favor and never lose that smile of yours."

(S/O) "Hm? Why's that?"

(RPK-16) "...Let's just say my life would be terribly dull without it."

Angelia was sitting in her room with a cup of tea in hand before being transported.

She simply sighed and put her cup down.

(Angelia) "Definitely need some more sleep."

But when she felt the ocean breeze blow across her skin, she knew that this wasn't a dream.

Especially when S/O arrived. She had always known them to be a softie, but capable.

What stood in front of her was some pale mockery. They looked too far gone to be anything remotely like S/O.

Especially hearing what their end goals were. Even though she was an ex-Griffin member, they were not the enemy.

Angelia could hold herself in combat, but the startling speed at which S/O moved and was able to disarm here was nothing short of inhuman.

It was as if she were fighting a T-Doll.

When she finds herself in her room again, she immediately calls for S/O.

(S/O) "Hey, Ange~! You call?...E-Er, did I do something?"

(Angelia) "Not really. Just get over here real quick."

S/O did as she asked before Angelia wrapped her prosthetic arm around them.

(S/O) "ACK! A-Ange, too tight!"

They chuckled nervously, which made her ease up.

(Angelia) "Sorry, just trying to give you a hug."

(S/O) "By trying to choke me with a metallic arm?"

(Angelia) "Yup. I thought you'd like it as a nice change of pace."

(S/O) "Hah, m-maybe I would if you weren't smiling while you said that!"

Their banter immediately put her to ease, and she had S/O sleep next to her that night, holding them.

Whatever the hell that was, she did not want a reminder of it ever again.

It was definitely some vivid nightmare she had.

The lifeless look in S/O's eyes was enough to scare her that week alone.

117 notes · View notes

remy2fang · 4 months ago

Text

BIG Thought Dump on SF6 BISON, Shadaloo, and Gratuitous Amount of F.A.N.G

I actually plowed through the Bison stuff when he dropped. I wrote a few of my thoughts on Twitter X, but I’ll dump everything here on this post. Warning, it’s really really big and the end may have some speculative spoilers (font will be red as a warning). Here it goes.

Playing Bison

I’m no pro player, in fact I’m super casual, but Bison is hella strong! I didn’t look through all his command list because I just want to plow through arcade and World tour for the story. All I know is Psycho Crusher, Scissor Kick (turned motion instead of charge), and Head Stomp from previous games, so I just stuck to those lol.

Arcade Mode and Fighting Ground

Ok now for the story. The first thing I did when Bison dropped was Arcade mode and was automatically hit with some fan service in the beginning. Naked Bison. Capcom knew what they’re doing here lol. There were some guys making jibes at him and then he beat the crap out of them and stole their clothes for himself. And then he went on fighting other people he don’t remember through arcade mode. And then his boss rival is Juri. Ngl, I was super excited when I saw that. I was actually hoping to see this for a long time. In Juri’s SF6 arcade, the thought of her not having her revenge against Bison had been eating her up for years. She never moved on from that since SFV, so “probably” almost a decade had passed since then. Her seeing Bison again is her moment to have what she wanted. But it didn’t go her way. I can see why Juri fans didn’t like the outcome. For me it’s different. Yes, it would be nice if she got her revenge right there and then (as indicated with her win quote against Bison), or if she moved on from Bison after her fight with Chun-Li in her own arcade mode. But I have the feeling deep down she really wanted that revenge. Plus, she helped Neo Shadaloo’s efforts too, albeit for money reasons, and even said that she’ll take them down if they ever rise again. Now that Bison’s back, she’s no longer in the state of regret and now has all the chances to go against him and get what she truly wanted. She’s not aimless anymore. She has a real reason to fight now.

As for win quotes, some were fun and some were boring. Of course I was most interested in A.K.I.’s. For sometime before Bison’s release, I was curious on how A.K.I. feels about him. Would she have a favorable view of Bison because F.A.N.G admires him greatly? Or would she be jealous of him because all of F.A.N.G’s attention will go to him instead of her? Lots of people and I have been wondering about this. Now the cat’s out of the bag, this is A.K.I.’s win quote against Bison:

“You must be the one the master’s talked so much about. I must send word to him immediately.”

This suggests that A.K.I.’s sentiments toward Bison is neutral, but she wants to report to FANG about it because she knows that Bison is important to him. I can’t help but compare this quote to her Rashid one:

“You… You’re the one the master spoke of.”

F.A.N.G talked a great deal to A.K.I. about these two, but of course his attitude for the both of them are different from one and the other. F.A.N.G admires Bison and hates Rashid.

World Tour Mode

For World Tour, we see that it takes place after Bison’s arcade mode because he took over the secret ruined Shadaloo lab after fighting Juri. I was already at Nayshall when I started World Tour and I automatically got a message from Foo aka F.A.N.G. Ahh yes, I knew I’d see F.A.N.G again for the Bison update 💜💜. He has to take part in it because this the man he wants to work for.

This time we work with F.A.N.G much more extensively than before. Yes, we see more of F.A.N.G in the Bison update than in the A.K.I. one (but there’s no FANG illustrations except for one in the Bison quests). He’s a lot more active and involved this time. And we get to see his soft side too. F.A.N.G actually likes seeing cute animal photos, especially with the cat and the baby hippo 💜💜. This reminds me of how A.K.I. reacted with the pufferfish and snake. Hmm, I wonder if that’s the reason why F.A.N.G didn’t mind A.K.I.’s super cute messages with the Lolita bunnies and kittens? Deep down, does he enjoy AKI’s letters because of those cute Sanrio-esque characters?? Idk, but I think it’s super cute. Ahhh 💜💜

We also get to see the scope of F.A.N.G’s influence and reach, especially as his persona as Foo. At first it seemed that he only has A.K.I. as his assistant, but later on in the Akuma and Bison update, we see that FANG has Experimental Subject Lee, Neo Shadaloo mole Hahn, Minox from the Colosseo, and former Doll Changpa. Out of these aside from A.K.I., Hahn and Doll Changpa seem to work the most extensively with F.A.N.G. Hahn knows F.A.N.G’s deal. 2 salutes. Answer messages within 2 minutes. 2 sugars in his coffee hehe. Doll Changpa elaborates further on how she ended up working with Foo aka F.A.N.G in this update than in the Akuma one. Basically, she had nowhere else to go. FANG needed intel on Shadaloo remnants. Doll Changpa needed a place to stay. So they work together because of that. To her, it’s purely transactional. She insists that it was her choice to work under FANG, but she did hesitated on the thought that she may have went back to her Shadaloo life, even by choice. It seems she had mixed feelings. Nevertheless, a job is a job.

Back to Bison. He went face to face with his own phantom Bison and absorbed it. He regained some memories from it, but not fully. It’s said that if Bison absorbs more psycho power, he would regain more of his memories. But even with 100 bond points and max mastery at level 20, Bison still doesn’t remember everything. As I suspected, Bison still has a way to go before he reaches his peak. But it’s not like he cares anyway lol. He’ll just continue on quenching on power.

We don’t really get a clear answer on how Bison came back, but Bison heard from others that he’d often die and come back to life via spare bodies. He thought that’s how he managed to be alive in his current form, but that’s just his conjecture based on what others said about his past lives. F.A.N.G also had no clue on how Bison came back either, despite being the last person to have seen his “”demise,”” but he also questioned if this is in fact the “real” Bison (he is). According to the devs, Bison’s current body is actually the same one from SFV. The cracks and scars on his right side of his body came from Ryu’s final blow. So instead of disintegrating (his death was obscured by F.A.N.G and smoke in SFV), he lost his memories. Not sure if the game will reveal the truth of Bison’s “resurrection” in a later update tho.

Although his memories are still fuzzy, Bison has a major hatred towards Ryu, Ken, Chun-Li, Cammy, and Guile lol. He doesn’t know them by name nor does he understand where the hatred comes from. He sent the avatar to talk to these fighters and they all remembered him with disdain. They all may have an idea where the avatar learned such fighting techniques, but it seems they didn’t want to press on. When the avatar reports back to Bison, Bison basically said he doesn’t care about them because he doesn’t truly remember them…but he’ll gladly fight and dominate them lol

Other people that Bison hate are obviously Ed, Falke, and Juri. They all undermine him. Bison also hates JP. Hmm, I wonder why? For the past couple of months, people were mulling over whether JP is for or against Bison. For me, it’s really hard to read JP’s intentions and plans because he tends to lie a lot, but I also think JP is not trying to win Bison’s approval. JP is not a Bison fanboy lol. Even his quote against Bison said that he is incomplete: “Hm. Peculiar. Perhaps you are not your whole self just yet.” What is JP’s plan then? JP is not actively involved in the Bison update for World Tour. But if you talk to Doll Changpa at the Suval'hal Arena in Nayshall at night, she found out that JP is still plotting to do something with Ed and the “imperfect” Bison. From the sounds of it, JP is still the main antagonist for SF6 as he seems to have a grandiose plan for the both of these characters. We’ll probably see it unfold in the next couple of patches.

Bison eventually remembers Vega and Balrog and sends the avatar to find them. F.A.N.G, as Foo the messenger, offers to help the avatar in finding them. Hmmm I wonder if F.A.N.G ever contacted them after the fall of Shadaloo since he knows their whereabouts and how to get their attention?

To get to Vega, the avatar has to fight Ignacio in the most “beautiful” way. In-game, basically win with a perfect KO.

Seeing Ignacio, I was already curious about him. At first I thought he was Vega's son, but then the illustration scenes have him next to a very handsome butler with similar features, so I then thought that Ignacio might be a servant boy for Vega. I'd like to know how Vega gets to know these characters, and I'm wondering what their back stories are because they both have dark complexions and yellow cat eyes. I don’t know the butler’s gender, but I’m assuming male (looks very much like Sebastian from Black Butler). If it’s female, she would have worn a maid’s outfit instead. I know I shouldn’t assume and that characters can also present as gender-nonconforming, but most often times devs from Japan/Asia usually make their female characters “cute” or showing something that emphasizes their “femininity.” Very seldom do they actively make a female character have more “masculine” traits with their appearances. But then again, SF6 has been pushing the gender boundaries outside of the norm, especially with the avatar gear, the NPCs, and a few of their roster characters. That would be cool and it would be interesting if the butler is a woman.

Anyway, Kizer brought up something interesting and it led to some speculative conversations. On Ignacio’s brooch, there’s a Ken Masters Foundation.

But when I looked at the avatar gear that can be purchased in the Battle Hub, the same tie brooch with the Masters’ logo can be found there. It could just be assorted avatar gear just to create these interesting NPCs. But at the same time, I’m still wondering if Ignacio and the butler were affiliated with Masters Foundation. That’s something to find out in a later DLC. And I hope the relationship between Vega, Ignacio, and the butler is a lot more kinder in-game than what’s been speculated in the conversation. Even I’m concerned lol.

We also get to see an illustrated cutscene with Balrog in it. He still keeps in touch with Ed and thought about joining his group. But, which ever organization has more money, he’ll go to it. Good ol’ Balrog 😂😂. I’m sure he’ll share the wealth with Ed tho!

The only names Bison remembers are Balrog, Vega, and Sagat. But even then, he doesn’t really have the clearest memories of them either. In this illustration, all the Shadaloo officers were all wearing these curious uniforms. Bison mentioned about “brainwashing” them and they all worked for him. I didn’t think much of this scene at first except I got to see F.A.N.G on there. But a friend of mine said an interesting comment and I liked her interpretation more than anyone else’s. What the illustration depicted wasn’t an accurate memory. Because Bison’s memory is “foggy,” he actually meld the Kings, Officers, Dolls, and Soldiers into one conglomerate thing. I still believe the Kings and JP acted on their own accord. The only people that got brainwashed in the organization were the Dolls. As for the soldiers, I don’t know lol.

Bison really likes his horse, whose name is Rocinante, like the Don Quixote’s horse. Bison said the reason why he didn’t kill the avatar was because Rocinante took a liking to them. Bison came upon the horse in Mexico. He was on the brink of death and yet he hung on to life. Bison infused the horse with psycho power to give it strength to carry him. The scientist in the Ruined Lab said that most regular animals would run wild with psycho power and die. Rocinante lives and it has the strength to withstand it. Bison loves power, but he also respects any living thing with strength (and even better when they serve him). Learning about Rocinante’s story reminded of F.A.N.G’s first encounter with Bison in SFV. F.A.N.G and his former organization, the Nguuhao, were about to assassinate Bison, but Bison overpowered and killed nearly all of them except for one. Although losing, F.A.N.G stood his ground against Bison. Bison was impressed by F.A.N.G’s strength and will to live and offered him to join Shadaloo. After that, F.A.N.G worked his way up and became a Shadaloo King.

Unfortunately for F.A.N.G, Bison doesn’t remember him. At first it started off funny when he got flustered, but then I can feel the sincere heartbreak from his text. F.A.N.G became quiet and his tone turned solemn. Even though Bison’s return didn’t turn out the way he wanted, he still complimented the Avatar on a work well done, albeit in a bittersweet way. As subtle as it is, I don’t think I’ve seen this side of F.A.N.G before, not even from Toxicity. If anything, there’s many sides of FANG I never got to see before SF6. Yes, we saw him visibly upset when Bison “”died””in SFV, but it didn’t have the same poignancy that his message had.

If Bison were to encounter A.K.I. (and win), the story outcome would probably go into a different direction. This is Bison’s win quote:

“You shall tell me who your master is. If they have value, I will gladly use them.”

This sounds like it would go into F.A.N.G’s favor as he would gladly serve his Lord Bison…except Bison does not remember him. Would F.A.N.G be happy to serve someone who may be considered as a “fake” or an “imperfect” Bison? Perhaps not, even though it is the real Bison with his marred SFV body. Throughout the Bison missions, F.A.N.G questioned his authenticity. He also mentioned that it was “too soon” for Bison to come back. Hmm, how does he know the duration of a “perfect” rebirth then? This makes me wonder if F.A.N.G had anything to do with the revival of Bison himself and left him until he’s ripe enough for the “rebirth,” and then Bison ended up “waking up” earlier than expected? I dunno, I’m just speculating on this and maybe more info would come out later lol. Also, maybe the devs knew ahead of time that some Street Fighter fans would groan at Bison coming into SF6 too early lol. I still see complaints about it lol.

About Bison’s win quote against A.K.I., he refers her Master as “They,” because he doesn’t know the gender. I like that little detail. Also in the Japanese dialogue, Bison referred A.K.I.’s master as 先生, which is “sensei”and can be used for both men and women. But knowing A.K.I., she uses the word “xiansheng” (also spelled 先生 in Chinese), and that’s usually used for men. Basically, Bison said this to AKI:

"先生とは誰だ。

使える人間なら、使ってやろう。"

"Who is your xiansheng (teacher)?

If he is someone who can be used, I’ll use him."

As sad as it is that Bison doesn’t remember F.A.N.G, I think this is a good thing. If the Bison mission ended with him remembering F.A.N.G, then that could possibly be FANG’s happy ending and his story might’ve stopped there. But because that didn’t happen, it gives more reason for F.A.N.G’s story to continue in SF6. He can actually continue on fighting for what he strives for. F.A.N.G hasn’t given up yet and he said he would contact the avatar if he needs them.

Also, Only 1 unused FANG voice line was released for the Bison dlc. He said, “Oh my days!” in this one. There’s more voice clips that haven’t been used yet. If they haven’t dumped the rest of his audio in this update yet, I’d think more will drop in later DLC. Who knows how long F.A.N.G’s story will last in SF6 if they’re going to release one unused voice clip per update. If that’s the case, I hope they stretch F.A.N.G’s story for a looong time haha!

https://twitter.com/remy2fang/status/1806508555153146085?s=46&t=iEGeYIIN_aP028wRnoVcUQ

youtube

Even though F.A.N.G didn’t get what he wanted after the Bison mission, he at least accomplished what he wanted to do since the Toxicity story: Reviving Shadaloo. He took part in it by having the avatar track down Bison. He then sent the avatar to the Ruined Shadaloo Lab with the assistance of Doll Changpa. The avatar had to fight using psycho power in order to power up the residual memory machine, which caught Bison’s attention and he absorbed it. When Bison gained some memories back, he told the avatar to find Vega and Balrog. F.A.N.G helped the avatar in this regard as he knew the former Shadaloo Kings’ locations and how to get in contact with them. That in turn had Vega and Balrog interested in working with Shadaloo again. So yes, it was F.A.N.G that drove the revival of Shadaloo.

This is something I mentioned a long time ago on another post, but just because FANG has an NPC model, that doesn’t mean he’s deconfirmed to come back playable. Throughout the entirety of World Tour, not a single character mentioned the name F.A.N.G at any point. A.K.I. never said it and neither did F.A.N.G himself. Even as his personas Foo and Fang Fei, he never said his actual (code) name. He’ll hint at it and skirt around it, but never outright saying nor spelling it. The avatar hasn’t even heard of the name F.A.N.G yet. Foo pretends he’s not a former Shadaloo King and Fang Fei feigns that he’s only a humble medicine man. His personas Foo and Fang Fei aren’t fighters. That means Fang Fei won’t be fightable. If that’s the case, that means there’s a chance that F.A.N.G can be playable at a much later point in SF6. It’s funny how it works. Other characters who have yet to make it to SF6 have their names mentioned but do not have 3D models. F.A.N.G is the opposite in which he has an in-game model, but his actual name was never revealed except in the official website, in-game credits, and JP mentioning it in A.K.I.’s arcade mode. But for now, it seems that NPC Foo/Fang Fei will remain as it’s hinted that he’ll be contacting the avatar again in a later update.

I just want to say I really love F.A.N.G’s portrayal in SF6 💜💜. Not only does he have a cool new look, but his personality is made to be more endearing, especially with the Bison update for World Tour.

I know FANG is still very evil, but I can tell the devs tried to make him more likable. They wrote TOXICITY that delve into his backstory, made the amazing AKI be his biggest fan, have him working with the avatar, and showed many sides of him that’s not often portrayed in SFV.

Also it’s good to know that my dream from nearly a year ago got one thing right: F.A.N.G being an important NPC and we see (and talk to) him a lot as shown in the Bison update. 💜🥹💜🥹

Also, good on Capcom to release the Return of Shadaloo Battle Pass. If I see official F.A.N.G content, I’ll eat it up 💜😋💜😋.

FUTURE CHARACTER SPECULATIONS AND LEAKS. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T WANT POTENTIAL SPOILERS.

From what has happened in Bison’s World Tour Story, it’s hinted that Vega and Balrog would be DLC. I’ll tell you this. According to this leak here, Vega would surely come back. Yes, I remember people said it was fake…and then a few months later Bison and Elena became official DLC, and the leak’s description of them were accurate.

As for Balrog, it’s up in the air. I’m not saying he’s not gonna be playable in SF6, but i didn’t see his name from the above leak nor from this one (this actually mentioned Bison, Terry, Mai, and Elena as far back as April 26, 2024). But just because a character’s name is not on those lists, that doesn’t mean they’ll never be DLC. From what a Japanese fan told me, the devs want this game to have a long lifespan. Hopefully it would be longer than SFV’s so more characters would come in the future.

END OF SPOILER

#street fighter #m. bison #juri han #sf6 jp #f.a.n.g #street fighter vega #balrog #a.k.i.#shadaloo #a.k.i #m bison #street fighter 6 #sf6 #sf6 world tour #sf6 thoughts #sf6 juri

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ohtobeleah · 2 years ago

Note

Leah babe. Whenever you’re ready we’re here patiently waiting for the next update of TH&TH.

THIS TOOK ME FUCKING FOREVER TO WRITE!! And as promised, an earlier update as the Masterlist received 1’000 notes!! Ahhh. Anyway—here’s the next chapter. Also the Masterlist for those who need to catch up. We're getting closer and closer to the end of what I'd say would be series finale of season one of TH&TH. But a series two would be on the cards.

Jake Seresin never thought he’d fly for the Navy, he had every intention of joining the airforce from the day he knew what a plane was. The white walls of his childhood bedroom were plastered with air force propaganda posters spanning decades, yet they all told him the same thing. That planes were cool and that someday he’d fly one. He remembered as he sat in his F-18 Super Hornet that the longer he sat staring at the walls he littered with his dreams, his passion—the more he wanted it. A common denominator however for a lot of Jake Seresin's teen and adulting life choices had been one thing and one thing only. You.

As Jake took his only shot at saving his colleagues' lives as they gained altitude towards the sun–like a modern day version of Ikaris themselves, Jake thought back to the moment he thought maybe the Navy wouldn't be such a bad career choice after all.

“You wanna do what?” Sitting on your best friend's bed you told Jake that you were starting to think about a career in the Navy. “Say it again for me real quick, I don't think I heard you correctly.” He teased as he spun around on his desk chair, flipping the pen he’d been doing his homework with through his fingertips.

“I said, I was talking to Sarah the other day and she said her older brother is a clearance diver and loves it.” You explained as you sat with your History book open on page one hundred and forty nine. Reading about the social and political constructs of the highly controversial and deeply divisive ruler—empress Wu. “Been thinking about it a lot actually–seemed pretty neat.” You couldn’t really focus on her rise from common concubine to empress when Jake was staring into your soul from across his room though.

“You know if you go into the Navy and I go into the Air Force we can't be friends anymore right?” Jake taunted before you threw his own pillow his way. “What!” He gasped. “I'm just saying–it's kinda like a given thing that the branches all kinda hate each other.” It was your senior year of highschool so the reality of the real world was starting to kick in. You'd both been giving a lot of thought into what you wanted to do after school. If a gap year was on the horizon or if college was a possibility. Or for you maybe it was the Naval Academy and for Jake it would be the BMT.

For now though, you and Jake both worked down at the local pizzeria after school–it was supposed to be your way of being able to spend more time together. But when the big boss had noticed that the two of you barely got anything done when you were both rostered on together? He made sure to end that real quick.

“Doesn't the Navy have like, Naval Aviators or something?” You sighed, not realising just how much of a spark it lit inside Jake as he watched you return to your work. “If we both enlisted maybe we might be able to take on the world together?” You weren't putting all that much thought into what you were saying, simply making light hearted conversation with your best friend as you both did whatever homework you both had due the next morning. You History and Jake Mathematics–always the maths guy. “Who knows, But hey–if you do go into the Air Force and fly those stupid planes that cost way too much money I guess you already have a callsign.” Smirking, Jake looked at you like you’d just shot him through the chest.

“Oh no. No way would I ever use Hangman as my call sign.” Jake huffed as he shook his head. “It's stupid.”

“It's who you are, idiot.” You reminded him, all those moments where he’d hung around his locker waiting for the right moment to talk to you only to be left hanging had the namesake sticking to him like super glue all through high school. Like fuck was Jake taking that shit with him into his adult life. “Besides, it suits you.”

The pad of Jake's thumb hit the trigger for his missile lock system the moment he’d been drawn back into the present by the tone he’d locked on the fifth generation fighter pilot. He watched as the jet exploded into a thick black fiery cloud that surely had to be lethal for whoever had been sitting in the cockpit. Knowing that he was coming home to you and whoever he’d just shot down wasn't. That would be his second air to air kill. You hadnt taken well to the first one–he wondered for a moment if you'd love him any less now that he had two.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, this is your savour speaking.” Jake put on his usual persona of the guy who everyone just couldn't stand as he came racing through the plume into vision of Chaos and Rooster. “Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright position and prepare for landing.” He watched as Chaos looked his way and smacked her first twice against the side of the cockpit, laughing behind her mask. He couldn’t really tell from this distance how fucking close to death she really was.

“Hey Hangman, you look good.” Rooster commented from the back seat, not his usual position on a fighter jet. All things considered though it probably still had a pretty good view. Jake nodded peacefully in response, he was going to say something about how he wanted to throw up over the fact he’d left you like he did to get here. Crying, screaming his name, yelling at him that you needed him. He wanted to mention that it killed him to know he left you heartbroken in his best friend's arms because he just put his colleagues above you and even more so above his own safety. Or that if he’d listened to your direct orders to stand down Rooster and Chaos may very well not be alive right now. He wouldn’t ever say that to you—ever.

Jake didn’t say any of the aforementioned things, he couldn’t. The words failed him when he tried to convey the right things to say—they always had, but in this very instant he knew his worry and utter agony was written in the lines on his face.

Jake just nodded and laughed with them.

“I am good Rooster, I'm very good.” He paused as he broke right and turned back to head towards the carrier. He wondered if the girl who sat on his bed that one time and said you could both take on the world together would still want to charge at it head on when he landed or if you’d throw your hands up and finally say enough's, enough. “I'll see you both back on deck.”

***~***~***~***~***~

“You’re okay Hawkeye, I got you.” Javy rocked with you as you clung to him in utter heartbreak. There was no sense of time anymore, you didn't know if you'd been left on the runway for two minutes or two hours as you cried out in utter heartache loud enough for anyone walking the flight deck to hear. “Jakes gonna bring em home.”

“You don’t know that–what if he never comes home.” Javy wasn't about to tell you that he had that feeling too, he wasn't about to break your heart any more than Jake had already done so in order to go after Rooster and Chaos. “He's the love of my life Javy–” Javy felt his own heart shattering as he held you a little tighter, sitting with you between his legs in the middle of the runway. His arms encapsulated you like he was shielding you from the world around you. Not wanting you to ever be hurt again. “What am I supposed to do without him huh? What does he fucking want from me!?”

“He doesn't want nothing Hawk, he probably just knows by now that you love him enough to know that whatever happens, good or bad–he had all the right intentions.” Deep down you knew Javy was right, you did love Jake enough to know that a year ago–or even just a few months ago for that matter, he never would have done this.

Levi ‘Elvis’ Macarthy was a terrible person and an even worse influence on your husband. He was the very dictionary definition of superficial. There wasn't a person you loathed more than Jake’s current Wingman. You knew Levi wouldn't hesitate to leave Jake in the dust if things went wrong, but what scared you so much more was Jake had become the very same.

“Oh my god—“. You just couldn't hold it in any more, your marriage had fallen to shambles around you before there was anything left to salvage. Your grandmother always used to tell you like because and you love despite. But with Jake? Over the last few months nothing seemed worth it. “You're worse than Levi.” You had just been discussing Jake's latest deployment, he hadn’t bothered to tell you until three days out. “Levi, he’s a selfish superficial asshole but he can’t help it, Jake–but you? You could be a good person but you wanna be an asshole! You are so obsessed with getting promoted and becoming the best of the very best that you’re choosing to be a piece of shit—“ It would be your last fight, the fight that drove you over the edge, the one you couldn't come back from. The fight where things were said that you couldn’t take back no matter how badly you wanted to. It was the fight that put all your others to shame.

“Okay stop pretending this is some moral dilemma!” Jake hadn’t told you about his next deployment because he knew that you still weren’t over his last. He didn't know how to tell you without starting a fight. Which inevitably happened anyway.

“It is a moral dilemma! You’re pushing everyone away to chase a fucking pipe dream!” You were so proud of Jake and everything he’d accomplished, but the idea that you were the only one who was didn't sit right with you. You knew he lived for the applause, but you couldn't cheer him on from the bleachers alone. “You’re a lieutenant! God isn't that enough for you at this moment? Revel in it a little before you chase the next rank!”

“Oh you wanna go there?” Jake scoffed as he took strides towards you, crossing the distance of the living room. “You—“. Jake spat, his voice laced with venom as he spoke to you like he hadn’t been in love with you since the very first time he saw you let alone spoke to you. Pointing his finger into your chest. “You’re afraid to climb the ladder.” He barked. “Tell me love.” The term of endearment made you weak in such a heated moment. “When was the last time you actually did something you were proud of? You spend all your time worrying about me and what I'm doing and what I'm supposedly becoming because you're too fucking scared to fucking apply yourself, you're scared that even if you tried just a little goddamn harder that you'd still be told you're a crap analyst!” He didn't mean any of it, he just wanted to hurt you the same way you hurt him. But Jake? Well he couldn't attack your person, so he went for your job, your career. He knew you held a little self doubt about your position in the Navy, unlike himself who just oozed confidence in every aspect. “Always a Lieutenant Junior, never gonna make it to Rear Admiral.”

“You go on this deployment, I won't be here when you get back.” This time you weren’t messing around. The idea had crossed your mind a time or two when things had gotten really bad, when you thought it would be easier to run than to stay and figure it out.

“What?” Jake had suddenly lost all his male bravado. “What the hell are you talking about?” Although you’d thought about it, you’d never said it out loud. Never mentioned the idea to anyone. “Baby–” His eyes were soft and suddenly full of regret, had he gone too far this time?

“You heard me Jake so help me god if you go, don’t expect me to fucking be here when you get back.” You thought your love for Jake Seresin could outlast any challenges you faced, but when he was the challenge himself? What else was left to do.

“You know I have to though—you know better than anyone that I can’t just not go?” His eyes took in the entire expanse of your face, every small mark and imperfection that made you perfect to him in every way. Cupping your face between his hands. “Wifey, we’re okay, we don't have to do this.” You ignored Jake's words as you focused on the first statement that slipped past his lips.

“Seems like an inevitable outcome then doesn’t it?” You continued, only to pull away and turn on your heels. Holding back the flooded dam that threatened to break if Jake made any attempt to keep you here. Stop you from leaving–.if he asked you to stay you knew it would be all the more harder to go, without question. You loved him so much.

“Baby don’t leave me.” You left in the middle of the night that same night.

He never would have put the lives of his fellow aviators above his own and he most certainly wouldn't have defied direct orders to risk his life in order to save another. The version of Jake Seresin that you almost served divorce papers to was long gone. Dead and buried. Replaced by the very best version of himself you knew he could be. The version you fell in love with during highschool. The version who asked you to marry him one random night in July under the stars as waves lapped around your ankles. The version you saw a future, a present and had a past with. It didn't hurt any less though, knowing that the outcome of all his soul searching may end up with the same outcome you’d left him over in the first place.

You'd' still receive that folded flag, you’d still cry as his coffin was lowered, only now you knew for sure that you wouldn't be the only one to mourn him.

“GET HER OFF THE DAMN RUNWAY!” Pete Mitchell could be heard screams from the barricades that you jumped over to reach your husband in time, to no avail. You’d fallen into a heap in Coyote's lap, inconsolable and crying as your heart raced at the thought you’d never see Jake again. Clutching at Javys flight suit, the nornex not doing much at all to dry your tears. “COYOTE! GET HER UP BEFORE YOU TWO GET RUN OVER BY A GODDAMN F-18!”

“Someone tell my wife I'm coming home.” Jake had radioed back to the tower all the while you and Javy had been sitting on the flight deck. He had started making his way back to you the second he wasn't needed, he saw no need to string out your obvious heartbreak. He couldn't wait to get back to you, tell you how sorry he was, how much he loved you, how much you meant to him and how badly it broke his own heart he had to leave you behind like he did–but he knew Rooster and Chaos needed him just a little bit more in the very moment. Jake also couldn't wait to let you know how idiotidc it was to stand in the middle of a goddamn runway. How endearing and brave and oh so stupid he found it. He knew that you were going to tear him a new one about his actions, that was his only leg to stand on. You were miss prim and proper, he was reckless and foolish–the better halves of each other. “Someone tell Y/n I’m okay, for the love of god someone tell her I'm alright.” It was a plea that fell on somewhat deaf ears though, no one could get to you to relay the message and Pete Mitchell certainly wasn't about the scream that crossed the flight deck of the carrier.

“We gotta move Lieutenant Commander–” Javy cooed as he tried to lift you up. Deadweight against his arms, you didn’t budge for love nor nothing. “Hey, Jake’s coming back, surely.” Pointing over your shoulder to the black dot in the distance headed straight for the carrier Javy tried his best to break through whatever haze had begun to cloud your better judgement. “You see that speck? That's Jake, so unless you wanna get railed by the cord that's gonna come at us at about a hundred miles an hour I suggest we move and the second he lands, I'll let you go? Deal?” You didn't believe Coyote as he tried to be the voice of reason, but as you watched the speck get a little closer, a little more defined, it sparked a hope inside you that you wanted to believe in. That it was Jake and he was coming home.

“Shit–” You scrambled to your feet, dusting your uniform off as Javy took your hand in his, one hand behind the small of your waist as he guided you over to where the rest of the group stood. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, all desperately awaiting the return of Hangman, Rooster and Chaos. “You really reckon it's him?” You asked as you approached Maverick, he hated the look in your eyes. Despair. Your eyelashes were wet and your cheeks were stained but none of that really mattered when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and nodded, bringing out a haphazard smile across your face for the briefest of moments.

“It's him Hawk, it's all of them.”

***~***~***~***~***~

It was the smoothest of landings Jake had ever pulled off. Everything had gone according to plan. When the tail hook caught on the catcher cord, slowing Jake's Super Hornet to nothing, he could finally breathe again. There wasn’t a lot that confronted Jake Seresin, but when he took off from the carrier, leaving you behind? He’d never felt such a fear in the back of his throat. It resonated with him until he leaned.

The cheers roaring out from his colleagues and fellow Naval men and women were enough to have him popping his canopy, holding his helmet in his hand as he fist bumped the air. Ravelling in the moment, the glory, the praise. Jake Seresin lived for the applause—and for the almost good enough but not quite worthy Dagger Spare, he thought he’d done pretty well for a guy who hadn’t made the team.

“You’re insane!!” Phoenix beamed as she tapped Hangman on the shoulder three consecutive times. “And I’m not gonna tell you you’re great, but well done.” He barely acknowledged her, his eyes catching you in the crowd. The roar of success faded as he handed Bob his helmet—without taking his eyes off you. A smirk crept across his face when he saw you falter for a mere moment. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were utterly and wholeheartedly relieved he was safe. But for a split second as the crowd cheered and separated just enough for Jake to barge his way to you—you couldn’t not let the happiness consume you.

“Hi wifey—“ Is all Jake manages to say before you’re barreling at him. Running full speed into his arms. With a jump and a graceful lift, your lips are connecting with your husbands as he catches you in his strong arms. Hands on your ass as he kisses you back. Your arms thrown around his shoulder as he deepened the kiss you thought for a while there you’d never get to experience again. “I’m so so—“ You didn’t let him finish as your open palm slapped against his cheek.

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again, do you hear me?” It wasn’t harsh enough to actually hurt, but it was still with enough force that took Jake aback. “Hangman—do you hear me?” Eyeing off the little gold heart he wore with so much pride.

Jake couldn’t stop himself from beaming at you. He loved you, oh so much. Kissing you again with haste as he nodded against your lips. “So stupid, I can’t believe you do that! Never again okay?” You pleased as Jake kissed you, talking into his mouth as teeth clashed together and tongues danced. Cupping his face to make sure this was real. That he was back and he was safe. “You hear my baby? You got nothing to prove.”

“Loud and clear ma’am, loud and clear.” Mumbling into your mouth as he held you up by your thighs. The cheering of the entire crew around you made it all the more remarkable. Jake Seresin was a hero, and a beloved one at that. “You’re not off the hook either, pretty girl.” Jake smirked against your lips. “Jumping barricades and barrelling up runways.” It was true, it hadn’t been your finest moment, but you did it all for love. “So stupid wifey, you know that right?” You knew, so the only dignified response you gave was a silent nod.

“I thought you weren’t coming back—“ You mumbled just shy of a whisper as you let your forehead rest against Jakes as he slowly put you down. Bending over with you to chase your lips again. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you.

“I’ll always come ba—“ Again, you slapped him again. This time a little harder as he trapped your hand in his. Making sure you couldn’t slap him again. “Okay, you gotta stop slapping me.” Jake poked his tongue against the inside of his slightly throbbing cheek as you eyed him off.

“Sorry, I just needed to make sure you were listening.” Racing past the bridge of the carrier where both Admiral Beau and Admiral Bates stood. Chaos flew low and close as you looked up overhead. She held her finger up to the glass. Giving the admirals the bird before her right engine cut out. “But I’m so proud of you Jake—you brought them home.”

“So I’m off the hook?” Jake asked as he raised an eyebrow, cocking the corner of his lip slightly as you shook your head. Laughing.

“Oh, oh no—no no no Jacob, you are most definitely not off the hook.” You called him Jacob, he knew he was in shit when Jacob slipped past your lips. “But for now I think you deserve to have your moment.” You gestured to the crowd around you now cheering on Chaos and Rooster as they landed in the barricade. “Go celebrate your victory Lieutenant.”

“I love you, Wifey!” Jake beamed as he stepped back, immersing himself in the crowd around him. “Love you to the moon and back!” He grinned before turning around, finding his way to the two people he risked it all for.

“I love you all that much more.”

***~***~***~***~***~

It had been a few weeks since the Uranium mission had come to its completion. The Admirals had made it abundantly clear that the ragtag team of aviators who had grown to be more like family than just colleagues could have a few precious weeks of unrestricted leave for their duties and sacrifices. Bradley Bradshaw and Robert Floyd had chosen to stay in North Island; They weren’t leaving until they knew for sure that Chaos Kazansky was going to be okay. For you and Jake? Things had mellowed out, settled down and you were both working through the underlying issues that were still plaguing whatever future you were both preparing to have with one another.

Like today for example, you were both about to find out the paternity results of the DNA test Jake had taken for Marissa. He knew it wasn’t his kid, but he knew you needed that in writing.

“Okay ladies cough up.” The Miramar Base Hospital smelt of sterile everything but the nurses station? They smelt of that Ariana Cloud Perfume and whatever food had been on offer in the cafeteria that day. “Who owes me what?” You teased as the three ladies sitting behind the glass fished out their wallets and all handed you a ten dollar bill. Much to their own displeasure. You smirked, collecting your earnings with no sympathy.

“Much appreciated ladies—“ You winked. When Jake had first started doing the rounds for Chaos, you’d gone with him one time early on. The ladies at the front desk had mentioned Jake would always stop and have a chat—nothing malicious, nothing sinister behind it. He just enjoyed the praise he received. And you saw nothing wrong with that—but you’d started an underground betting ring not three days later with the nurses. If your husband was gonna act the foot? The least you were gonna do was make some extra money off him. “Someone ask him about his call sign next time he stops by, if he says anything else besides the fact he was left hanging by a girl he had a crush on in highschool he’s a liar—“ You picketed the cash as you turned on your heels. “Fifty Bucks ladies, take it or leave it.”

“You look rather nice today Commander?” One of the nurses cooed as she hollered down the hall after you. You weren’t really sure what she was on about to be honest, you were just in a pair of old jeans and a sweater. Maybe it was the brown hair you now wore with pride. Jake had been right, Blondes did have more fun and you had certainly had your fair share during your time back at Miramar. You weren’t meant to be a blonde. So back to your roots you went. “Anything in particular got you all dressed to the nines?”

“Just enjoying the rest and relaxation ladies, nothing else to it.” You smiled back at them before making your way further into the hospital—running into your husband and Bob shortly after. “I was just coming to see Chaos? How is she?” You asked Bob as Jake took you under his arm, pulling you closer to his side as he kissed the top of your head. It still smelled of brown box dye. He’d helped you colour it back a few nights prior. That in and of itself should have been a mission he had taken more seriously.

“Awake, she wanted to be with Rooster for a little while.” Bob explained softly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee, do you want anything Commander?” You still weren’t all that keen on everyone calling you commander, shaking your head softly you sighed as Bob stood before you with tired eyes.

“I’m good, and would you please just call me Hawk if anything Bob? Even Y/n’s totally fine—you guys are family. I don’t want you calling me Commander if we’re not on duty or working together.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll see you guys a little later.” Bob was tired, he walked the halls like a ghost of his former self. He and Rooster had been tag teaming for weeks and you knew Jake was worried about them both.

“God I feel awful.” You mumbled into Jake's shoulder. “We should do something for them.”

“Only thing we can do is just be here for them.” Jake kissed the top of your head before making a cheeky remark. “Commander Seresin.” He expected the elbow he copped to the ribs but it didn’t make it hurt any less. “Ohh—“ He doubled over for a moment as he stilled in his tracks, watching as you kept walking down the hall. “Okay, I definitely deserved that.”

“Bet you thought it was gonna be you who made commander first, didn't ya hot shot?” You teased over your shoulder as your husband caught back up to you. “What was it again? Always the Lieutenant Junior, never gonna make it to Rear Admiral?” Quoting the remark Jake had made during one of your more heated arguments. “I’m sure you’ll catch up, Lieutenant.”

“I liked you better when you were just a lieutenant commander—“ Jake taunted as you both rounded the corner. Laughing you just shook your head. “So cocky now—someone better tap you on the head before you fly too close to the sun there, Icarus.”

“You know I don’t fly, Flyboy—“ You taunted back as you reached for Jake's hand, walking side by side towards the office of Dr. Sanders—she’d called you earlier that same morning to confirm the results of Jake's paternity test had come in and as had your fertility checks. “And before you say anything, no—I’ve seen the way you fly, I’m not getting in one of the tin cans with you.”

“Javy said he’d take you up if you wanted to?”

“Oh fuck off—“ You couldn’t hold back to scoff. “You know I’m terrified of flying, never in a million years would you ever get me up in one of those things.” It had always been something you’d pushed to the wayside, but even when you flew commercially, you needed anxiety callers to keep you from panicking. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Ah, there’s the lovely couple!” Dr. Sanders greeted you both with a wide smile as you approached her door. “Come on in, we have a lot to talk about.”

“All good news I hope?” Jake questioned as he let you enter first and pulled your chair out for you. A kind but almost jarring gesture. The look on Dr. Sanders' face said it all though—it wasn’t. Fuck.

“Mr Seresin, how sure were you that this child wasn’t yours?” She asked and for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. Holy shit, was Jake actually a father? To another woman’s child?

“Fairly certain I could back my entire career on the matter, why?” Jake still expressed so much confidence in the matter at hand, he never once wavered from his standpoint. It was almost admirable. He sat beside you, reaching out for your hand because he knew if anyone was freaking out right this second it was you—running the pad of his thumb across your palm.

“Remind me to never second guess your better judgement, you’re not the father Jake—I’m not sure whether to say congratulations or my condolences but biologically speaking no, that child isn’t yours.”

“That’s exactly what we wanted to hear.” Jake smiled as he turned his cocky attitude towards you fully. “Never doubted it for a minute.”

“I’ve already informed the other party, she sends her best wishes.” Dr. Sanders sighed before she opened the tan folder on her desk. “Now—onto you little miss, what am I going to do with you.” She sent you a soft smile. This was never an easy part of her job, but education was key.

“Lay it on me doc, I can take it.” Your hand squeezed Jakes just a little tighter as you shifted in your seat. Knowing whatever Dr. Sanders was about to tell you was going to knock the wind from your lungs.

“Y/n, you have blockage in your left fallopian tube, that means that when sperm are trying to make their way to an egg the blockage is stopping them before they can fertilise.” You really didn’t know what to say as you sat shocked in silence. “It doesn’t necessarily mean a natural conception isn’t possible, it just means that the chances are less likely and if you do ever decide to have children, prenatal vitamins and hormone treatments will aid in the process. And hopefully whatever sperm does make the journey, they take a right instead of left.”

“Is there anything we can do to remove the blockage?” You asked softly, there was a small part of you who didn’t want to know the answer. But you asked regardless.

“There’s surgical procedures we can schedule you in for—but they're all quite major and can lead to even more pressing complications like infertility overall.” Dr. Sanders explained. “It’s better to leave well enough alone and hope that the one you still have can come through, otherwise? There’s IVF treatments, adoption—“ Dr. Sanders made it abundantly clear to both you and Jack in her office that you were, in fact, not broken. She’d seen too many women come through her doors that wore the same face she was currently looking up. “You my dear are not broken, you just need to take a few extra steps.”

“I’m—uh, can we take home all the information you have on all the options please?” Jake could hear it in your voice how scared and upset you truly were. All he could do in the moment though was reassure you that he was there, right beside you. Squeezing your hand to keep you grounded in reality. “We’ll go over everything at a later date.”

“Of course, and if you ever need a consultation you know where to find me.”

***~***~***~***~***~

“When are you gonna go up with Hawk?” Coyote smirked at you through the mirror of the free weight section of the base gym. Finishing your set of lateral raises, you huffed out a groan when you placed the weight down. It’s a bad dream by Good Charlotte played through the speaks as you looked at Javy through the mirror. His smugness rubbing you the wrong way immediately.

“Who told you I ever would?” Two more weeks had passed since the events of the uranium mission and new postings were starting to trickle in. You’d yet to receive yours, but Jake had reciprocated his. A full time position here in North Island. If he wanted it. He’d get to accept—waiting to see what would come of you.

“Uh, your husband?” Javy sent you a look as if to say who else would’ve told him that. “You two seem good these days?” He asked, still standing behind you in the free weight section, looking at you through the mirror. “Seem happy?” It was no secret to anyone that knew you and Jake that you had your demons, but over the last few weeks, amongst everything else going on—you’d seemed to work a few things out.

“I think we’re gonna do a few couples therapy sessions but yeah, we’re good.” You smiled over at Jake who’d been doing some boxing with Payback. “I’ll never find a better part of me Javy, and honestly I’m starting to think that I'd rather be here for him than anywhere else in the world for myself.”

“He loves you.” Javy smirked softly as you turned to face him. “I remember there was this one time I had to really reel him in from going fully off the rails just after you’d left.” You’d never heard Coyote speak his truth on the matter before. “He was fucked Hawk—he knew he drove you away but was just too stubborn to admit it to anyone around him let alone himself.”

“I wasn’t innocent in the whole thing—“ You added as you let your eyes linger back over to Jake, he’d lost his shirt somewhere along the long as he held the pads for Payback. A thin sheen of sweat covering him head to toe. “But you like because and you love despite.”

“You did what you had to do.” Javy added, only to change to conversation seconds later back to his original question. “Come in Hawk, one ride—come up with me for service checks?”

“I dunno Coy—“ You tried to protest, your fear of flying all consuming. But it was to no avail.

“You can’t be a commander without having flown once—“ You’d technically made Commander rank four weeks ago, but the official ceremony wasn’t until January. It wasn’t a question you could keep avoiding any longer, both Jake and Javy pestering you to no end about this joy flight. Were you particularly interested? No—but if you had to do it once to get them off your back it seemed as though the answer had to inevitably be a yes.

“Honestly? What's the worst thing that could happen?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

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