#definitely going to come back to this when i know more about her
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ᥫ᭡. WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE
Summary: You find out about Sarah's pregnancy and so does someone else.
Warnings: literally nothing
A/n: thank you for anon for this idea!
JJ Maybank was a liability to most on this island, kook or pogue. If JJ found out about something at 10am, you best believe the whole island would know by noon. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, he had a big mouth that just happened to slip out information even if he didn’t mean to. Which is exactly how you found out about Sarah’s pregnancy.
Just as you were minding your business, sunbathing on the yacht, and waiting for Rafe to come back with some drinks on the hottest day of the year, you spotted JJ and Pope walking along the dock. Nosy as ever, you effortlessly shifted back from their view, curious to hear their conversation. Chances were it would be about Kie or their new treasure- but gossip was gossip.
“I just still can’t believe it, man. A kid? What the hell are we going to do?” Your jaw dropped at JJ’s words. A kid? JJ and Kie having a kid, was not something you expected to happen. You knew they definitely had something between them, but having a child was a big step to take. You grabbed your phone eager to tell Rafe, of course with strict instructions to slow his return to the yacht.
But as you began to type out a message Pope’s voice began, “We? It’s not our kid JJ, and as far as I’m concerned Sarah and John B are gonna be the best parents we know.”
Sarah and John B.
Your heart thudded in your chest, dropping your phone onto the couch cushions you resided on. You had only seen Sarah a few days ago as you defended her honour against Ruthie and her minions. She hadn’t looked pregnant at all but when you thought back you remembered seeing John B’s hands on her stomach, caressing. Oh my god, she is pregnant.
Your sister-in-law was pregnant, with a pogues baby, fuck me was Rafe about to lose his shit. But you? You were proud, it takes a lot of courage to decide to keep the baby and you knew Pope was right- they’d be the best parents ever.
Minutes later, Pope and JJ disappeared from the harbour and Rafe returned, arms full of all the drinks you like. “Hey baby, I didn’t know what you wanted so I got everything.” He laughed, attempting to place them all down on the table without dropping any. Your mind was far too busy to reply, so you stifled out a laugh. But of course, your boyfriend didn’t miss a thing. Frowning, he looked at you curled into a ball on the seats of the top deck.
“You okay?” He asked, concern coating his face as he took up his seat next to you. His arm around your shoulders settled some of the worry in your brain- but not all. “Yeah, I’m okay. Think the sun is just getting to me that’s all.” You attempted to joke, strategically pushing your body into your boyfriend’s embrace to avoid any more questioning. Convinced you were fine, Rafe stood up, “I’ll go get you some sunscreen. You need to stay protected.”
Protected. Your mind was catapulted back to Sarah. So as Rafe walked down to the deck below, you pulled out your phone again.
1:42pm
Just found some old pics of us as kids, you should come over and see them. We need to catch up Mrs Routledge!!
——————
"Oh my God." Sarah giggles, pointing at a picture of you and her in a swimming pool, with ice cream coating your wide grins. You quickly rifled through your collection of photos, acting as if you had miraculously found them as an excuse to have Sarah over. "We were so cute!" You giggled, as you flipped the photobook over to the next page to see a picture of you and Sarah holding a newborn Wheezie.
Your breath stalled for a moment, before you began to breathe normally again, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. "Wow." She breathed out, tracing over Wheezie's face as her eyes glazed over with admiration. You weren't going to push Sarah to tell you but you wanted her to know that if she needed a handout, you were there. Deciding to push the limits, "I hope I have a baby as pretty as her." You said softly, smiling at Sarah as your eyes met hers.
She knew instantly that you knew. Your eyes were soft and wide, waiting for her to admit what you already knew. "You know, don't you." She whispered, her hands still hovering over the picture. You nodded, reaching over to take her shaking hands in yours.
For a moment you sat in silence, it wasn't awkward but peaceful. "I love you, Sarah. Whatever you, John B and the baby need I'm here." She nodded, eyes beginning to tear up. When you first started dating Rafe she was scared she would lose you to him, but you had been an anchor in her life, a big sister she never had. She knew she had the pogues support, but to have you behind her meant so much more.
"I'm scared." She feebly admitted, dragging her eyes down to your connected hands before continuing on. "What if they hate me or I'm a bad mom?" You shook your head adamantly, if there was one thing you knew for a fact it was that Sarah would be a good mother. "You could never be a bad mom. Remember when you were 7, I was older but had fallen and grazed my knee? I was a crybaby but even at 7 you knew how to clean it and put a bandage on. Those instincts don't leave you." By the end, your eyes were full of tears too. "Will you help me?" She muttered.
You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course. Sarah whatever you need I'll be here. You are my best friend before I'm Rafe's girlfriend. If you want me to go shopping with you I will. Or go to your appointments, I will. And if you want to keep this a secret, we can."
"Keep what a secret?" Rafe suddenly spoke, he wasn't in the room but you could hear him walking over to the lounge. Sarah's eyes enlarged in fear, you had promised her Rafe was out the whole day. Unbeknownst to you, he had finished his work in a hurry, eager to get back to you. You lunged over to the coffee table slamming the photobook shut, Rafe wasn't an idiot and you didn't want him putting him two and two together before Sarah was ready.
By the time he reached the lounge, you and Sarah had quickly wiped your eyes but it would be obvious to anyone what had happened. His eyes widened as he saw Sarah next to you on the couch. He obviously knew you two had a special connection and often went out whether it was for coffee or to the beach. But it had been ages since he had seen you two together in his house. "What's going on?" He asked, still unmoving from his position.
You glanced over at Sarah, who was staring at her brother. Normally, her eyes were full of hate and anger at Rafe but you noticed a new look in her eye. Full of emotion and sadness. You began to ramble a reason for Sarah's visit and also your 'secret', "Just some gossip with Pope and Cleo. You know they always made sense to me, Pope was always really quiet he needed someone more outspoken, you know? I think they really match, but there is just some stuff going on- but obviously, it's our secret can't just be telling anyone. Bu-"
Amid your rambling, Sarah spoke, "I'm pregnant Rafe." The air in the room warmed instantly to you, your shirt clinging to you as you waited anxiously for Rafe's next words. You hoped your boyfriend would sense that Sarah needed all the support she could get regardless of who it came from. You hoped for once he could see past his misguided anger at his little sister.
"What?" He finally muttered out, although it wasn't the response you hoped for it was better than the string of curse words you were expecting. Sarah waited for a brief second before nodding, moving her hands to let Rafe see her small- but visible- bump. Eyes full of emotion, he followed her motion. His baby sister. Pregnant. And despite them having mountains of unresolved trauma to work through, he felt an instinct to protect her baby, and weirdly of all, Sarah too. He finally moved from his frozen stance walking over to you both on the couch.
"Can I?" He asked gesturing at her stomach. Seemingly hesitant, Sarah waited a moment before nodding slowly her eyes never leaving Rafe's hands as he tentatively placed them on her bump. You watched on, trying not to cry at the sight of the two people you loved the most connecting once more. They had problems to solve and conversations to have but at this moment, it was like everything had fallen back into place. "It's only small," Sarah whispered, desperate to not disturb the peace. She had never seen her brother so quiet and attentive.
"I can't believe it. I'm lost for words." Their eyes met, both of the Cameron siblings thinking the same thing, everything would work itself out. But in the back of Rafe's mind lingered one thing, his own want and longing for a baby of his own.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n
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Who Needs Heaven? : Safe & Sound
jason todd x fem!reader
aka your daughters learn what happened to jason
warnings: nonspecific discussions on how jason died
(1) the drop-in
The sound of water splashing under toy boats and fish fills the small room.
You ring the washcloth out over the suds, Rory’s idle hands scooping up the excess. She entertains herself with the slowly dissolving bubbles between her fingers as you fill up your cup.
“Put your head back,” you tell her, nudging her forehead.
She does, squeezing her eyes shut.
You pour the cup of water over her head, combing through her hair. You refill the cup again as she pipes up.
“Mommy,” she says with a casual lull in her voice.
You pour it out again, making sure to rinse the shampoo at her roots, “Hm?”
Her hand comes up to wipe the stream from off her forehead, “How did daddy get that scar?”
“Well, daddy has lots of scars,” you say carefully. “You know that.”
She shakes her head, “Littler scars. He has a big one though, right here.”
She points up and down her torso.
“What happened?”
You take a breath, eyes focused on the dissolving suds. “What happened…”
She continues on, “He said scars come from when you get hurt and the bigger ones are bigger hurts. How did he get such a big hurt?”
“Um...” She’s quite young to hear that story, especially coming from you. Your older daughters have an awareness of what happened, though it’s never been formally discussed. You think Mia knows what the autopsy scar is and the twins definitely know he died at the very least. You’ve been made aware that there’s been…discussions at school about who their dad is and how he one day died and then years later magically reappeared. You and Jason had decided that you would talk to them about it eventually, but only when they were old enough to not be completely traumatized hearing it.
You just hadn’t assumed that day would creep up on you like this.
You sit back, tense. “Did you ask him that?”
“No…” she says gravely. “I don’t wanna make him sad.”
You nod, trying to collect your thoughts. How can you steer away from this without attracting more questions?
“Do you know what happened?” she asks, scanning your face.
You do your best to reset your expression to neutral.
You start without really knowing where the sentence is going, “We…we can talk about it later…”
Rory tilts her head, “Not now?”
You shake yours, “Not right now.”
That’s enough to appease her curiosity for the rest of the bath, but you know with that one, it won’t last long.
You’d gotten her dressed and sent her on her way, but your mind stayed heavy the whole time.
You walk downstairs slowly, hands still damp from the bath. As you turn the corner from the stairs you find Jason, reading contentedly by himself in the living room.
You cross the room without hesitation, climbing into the spot next to him on the couch. He doesn’t need to look up, only adjusts the position of his arm so its draped over you, pulling you into his side.
“So…” you start, “Rory was asking about your scar..”
He turns away from the book, looking at you with serious eyes. “What did she say?”
“She wants to know how you got it,” you tell him. “I didn’t tell her, but she didn’t want to ask you either.”
“Why not?” He asks quickly, face brimming with anxiety.
You shake your head, calming his worries. “She said she didn’t want to make you sad.”
He relaxes a bit at that, taking in the information.
You break the silence after a minute, quietly telling him, “I think it might be time to talk about it.”
He looks dejected, eyes on the floor. “They’re still little..”
“I’m not saying tell them everything right now, just…acknowledge it.”
“I don’t—” He sighs, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell them that.”
You think for a moment, nodding.
“Tell them how you told me. Just…more kid words.”
He still looks resigned at the idea so you continue, “You know how to talk to them. Just tell them what you want them to hear. They’ll listen.”
He nods, eyes low. “Okay…”
You stand up, and he grabs your hand as you rise, pulling himself up too.
You give each other one more confirming look before calling up the stairs, “Girls? Come here.”
There’s a ten second delay before a scuttle of footsteps starts down the staircase, arriving with a low-liveliness, nearly bedtime energy amongst them.
The second you’re within sight of them, they’re keen that something’s not right.
“What’s going on?”
“Is—”
“Everything’s alright. Nothing’s wrong,” you tell them. “We just want to talk to you for a minute.”
Your words don’t do much to ease their minds, but after a moment they slowly gather onto a single couch. They’re all squished in together and Rory’s half on top of Anna and Laine, the latter of which can barely move. Still, there’s no complaints to be heard, only an air of seriousness throughout the room.
Jason clears his throat, though he has trouble looking at them, the easier option seeming to be the carpeted floor.
“Alright,” he starts with a deep breath. “So my, uh, my Y scar…”
The air in the room drops the second the words are out, the girls all quiet and listening closely. You can tell this is something they’d been wondering about for a long time.
“When I was younger and I’d just started doing the, uh, special job my brothers and Bruce do…” He takes another breath, “Some things happened that shouldn’t have and I got hurt..”
“What things?” Ryan asks.
“I…I got tricked by a bad guy and…I just got hurt.”
It’s uncharacteristic for the girls to all look so dejected and serious like this. Goes to show that you were right—they do have an understanding of what happened.
Anna is the first to pipe up.
“Did you die?”
“Anna—”
“It’s alright,” Jason interrupts. He collects himself before eking out, “Um…yeah, I-I did.”
He’s still stuck on those words and you have to silently push for him to keep talking, so as to not give their imaginations time to run wild.
He takes the hint, stuttering, “But, um, it’s complicated, but I came back and—”
Laine interrupts this time, almost teary-eyed.
“Are you going to die again?”
Jason shakes his head quickly, “No. No, honey, not for a long time.”
It’s quiet for a moment as they process, sorting through the details into something their minds can understand.
Rory looks on edge, wide-eyed, as she asks, “Are you a ghost?”
“No, sweetheart,” Jason answers calmly with a shake of his head.
That seems to calm her anxiety more than anything else.
“Are you better now?” Laine asks.
Jason nods, “Yeah, I’m a lot better now.”
Ryan looks skeptical at the choice of words. “How did you…get better?”
He takes a shaky breath, “Well…your mommy helped me a lot. And then you helped me some more. And now…now I’m all healed.”
None of them seem to really understand, but they accept the answer anyways.
The next question is from Anna.
“Is the bad guy in jail now?”
Jason only momentarily stutters in his response, but pulls it together nicely.
“It’s not something you need to be worried about. I promise. Nothing like that’s going to happen again to me or you or anyone.”
This appears to appease most of the concerns flying around in their heads.
He continues, “We can talk about it more when you get older, but…
You take the queue, nodding Rory and Lainey your way.
“Let’s go get ready for bed, okay?”
You nudge the younger two upstairs, who, to your surprise, go without resistance.
You give Jason one last glance before heading up the stairs, happy to see him much more relaxed than he was at the start of this conversation.
He’s left downstairs with his eldest three girls, each nearly bursting at the seams full of their thoughts and questions.
Jason thumps down on the couch between them, a heavy breath following.
The trio watch him quietly for a moment before Anna speaks.
“I know what it is,” she tells him somberly. He looks at her with more melancholia than he would’ve hoped for.
She continues, “There’s autopsies on my show sometimes.”
Right, her show. The X-Files.
Jason nods, a bit remiss at the idea that she knows.
From his other side, Ryan pipes up.
“Did it hurt?”
He shakes his head, “No, I-I wasn’t…”
Wasn’t alive. He doesn’t want to say that, though.
Ryan nods, understanding anyways. “Did it hurt when you died?”
He hesitates before answering, wavering between lying to protect their minds and telling them the truth. In the end, he decides that you’re right, they can handle it in small measures.
“Yeah. It did, a little,” he confesses. ”But like I said, that’s not going to happen again.”
From behind Ryan, Mia speaks so softly Jason almost misses her words.
“I’m sorry.”
He looks at her, brow furrowed. “For what?”
“That that happened to you,” she says. Her eyes are filled with an equal sadness to his and it breaks his heart. Even more so that her words are so clearly meant sincerely.
“Oh.”
It’s all he can manage to say.
He was only a little older than Mia when his life had been taken away from him and he’d been forced to reset everything he ever knew. And now, all these years later, he sits here surrounded by his children, his world that he was given a second chance to create. His children that don’t see a monster when they look at him, don’t see the scarred giant that he sees. They just see their dad.
When they were still young they’d started getting almost excited whenever they got a scar from playing too hard because it made them more like him. It took Jason years to just bear the thought of his scars, but his girls look at them like art. Even when they know he got them in bad ways, they pour out nothing but affection. No disgust, no fear, no hate. Just love.
His eyes close and his face falls in his hands, overwhelmed by the idea of his children being such angels, despite being products of him.
“Dad? Are you okay?”
He nods, face still covered. His voice is muffled as he says, “Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart, I just, um…”
His words die off with little fight, and when his hands drop his eyes are red.
Anna, who’s usually compulsed to only touch emotion with a ten-foot pole, is the first to wrap her arms around him, holding him tight. The gesture takes him by surprise, especially from her, and he tenses briefly before deflating like a balloon. Mia and Ryan are quick to follow suit, basically dog-piling over his opposite shoulder.
“It’s okay, dad. We love you. And your scars,” Ryan tells him.
Oh, they think he’s sad.
Hell, thirteen years ago he would’ve thought he was sad. He only started to understand his feelings after his first daughter was born. He doesn’t tell them he’s not sad, doesn’t tell them that he’s crying because life slapped him around and then gave him everything he could ever want five times over.
Instead, he just nods, pulling them impossibly closer.
who’s your fav daughter
#jason todd loves his daughters#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd/you#jason todd imagine#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd thoughts#red hood/you#red hood x you#red hood/reader#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood fanfic#red hood fanfiction#red hood x y/n
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West Side | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 5 of Unscripted Desire | ~15k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: A lot of firsts with Javi.
Tags: smut, slight angst, nipple play, dry humping, lots of making out, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, jealousy, edging, overstimulation, use of sex toys (vibrator), oral (f receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex (finally), javi is clipped (not mentioned), babe wake up pornstar!javi lore just dropped, no use of y/n, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.
A/N: i attempted to make this chapter a little longer, definitely filthier, and above all: satisfying. shoutout to my bestie hermosa @persephone-girl for reading over part of this and quelling all the second thoughts i had in the middle of writing it out 🖤 love you guys, enjoyyyy ✨
You purse your lips at your reflection, tilting your head as if a new angle will make everything click. The phone is wedged between your shoulder and ear, and Connie’s voice crackles over the line, keeping you company.
“Since when do you care so much about getting dolled up?” she teases, picking up on the way you’re fussing.
You tug the hem of the dress down a bit, “That’s not even the issue here,” you counter, a little more defensively than you meant. “It’s just… what do you even wear on a date with someone like Javier?”
Connie lets out a sly laugh. “Well, if I knew more about him, maybe I’d be able to help you out here.”
You huff, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it, leaning closer to the mirror as you swipe at the mascara wand. “You’re still on that?”
“It’s not every day that my friend leaves with a man like that at the end of her shift, only to find out he’s some annoyingly hot coworker she didn’t even bother mentioning—”
“There was nothing to mention,” you cut in quickly.
“Nothing to mention?” she repeats, scandalized. “He ate you out in an elevator, you talked an orgasm out of him, and you let him slip the tip of his dick inside—”
“Okay!” You cut her off again, voice a bit higher than intended. “Shouldn’t you be out saving lives or something?”
“Currently on day two, hour nine, of my three-twelves.” Her sigh fills your ear. “I’m exhausted. Let me live through your smokin’ sex life so I don’t tear my hair out.”
“Steve not doing it for you anymore?” you tease, rubbing away a bit of lipstick that smudged onto your teeth.
“Oh, he is, but after three overnight shifts? Even the thought of sex is exhausting,” she admits, a laugh edging her words.
You get it; distinctively thinking about the last spring break week where you worked non-stop, running from shoots all day to the bar all night on three hours of sleep.
That was definitely the week you aged five years in one go.
“Now, back to you,” she snaps you out of your memories. “What did you finally decide on?”
“The black dress.” You say it like it’s the only logical choice.
She groans, dragging it out for dramatic effect. “No. You wear that thing out all the time.”
“I bought it for a reason. To wear it.”
“Oh, come on. I think you should switch it up a little. Make it more fun.”
“Fun?” you echo, skeptical, glancing over at your closet.
“Fun,” she confirms, “like that mini skirt with the flowy fabric. Makes your ass look so good and shows just enough cheek to leave him hanging,” she says all playfully, “Just throw on a top that shows the girls off and you’ll be set. It’s flirty and hot… exactly like your little boy toy and way fresher than a black dress.”
You snort, feeling a little flutter at the mention of Javier being your boy toy. “A classic date-night outfit is classic for a reason, you know?”
“Mhmm, so classic I’m falling asleep. Go grab the skirt and thank me later,” she presses.
You grumble out a fine, deciding to humor her. Maybe you will like it better than the dress.
Rummaging through your closet is a little difficult with the corded phone in your hand but you manage, finally spotting the garment under the mountain of clothes that you’ve just thrown in here and pretended weren’t your problem.
“Where’s he taking you, anyways?”
“No idea, which makes the getting ready process even more difficult. I’m putting you down,” you warn her, setting down the receiver on your dresser.
You toss aside a few ‘not quite’ options before finding a top cute enough for this flirty and hot vision she’s painting. The deep color of it has your skin glowing, the cut of the neckline making your tits look enticing.
The snug skirt teases just enough at your thighs and you do a half turn, glancing back at the mirror to check your own ass out—and damn if she wasn’t on the money.
“Okay, I’m back.”
“And?”
You pause, smiling as you take in your reflection. “I look hot.”
There’s a sharp, delighted squeal on her end. “See? I told you! That’s what friends are for—giving you advice you don’t listen to until you’re basically forced to.”
Her laugh makes you grin, but then you hear a muffle as she talks to someone else in the background. She comes back, tone rushed but still playful. “Alright, I’m being called back onto the floor. But seriously, have fun. Don’t put out unless you want to, and please, please, don’t wait months to fill me in, okay?”
“I won’t,” you chuckle, her instructions making you feel like you’re back in high school. “Thanks, Con.”
“Go get him, you vixen,” she teases, and the line goes dead, leaving you with your thoughts.
You’ve been doing everything possible not to spiral into overthinking, trying to act normal about this date. Part of you still can’t believe it’s actually happening.
You’ve fought him, resisted him, silently judged others for falling for his charms—yet somehow still managed to give in.
If someone had told you months ago that you’d be in this position, you would’ve straight up laughed in their face.
The whole trajectory of it feels warped. You can’t help but wonder if this is all some elaborate game, a long con to get you in his bed.
But then, the doubts don’t quite hold up, not with how much effort he’s put into just getting your attention. If it were about sex, he wouldn’t need all this—he could walk outside, flash that lazy, dimpled grin, and probably have someone falling for him within seconds.
Hell, he could call one of his co-stars and make it that much easier on himself.
Yet, he keeps choosing you, showing up with this sincerity that’s completely messed with your head, confessing feelings and sticking around like he’s actually serious. He’s taken over your mind, lingering there like a sexy, infuriating ghost.
At least you’ve given yourself an ultimatum: if this goes south, you’ll walk away and he’ll leave you alone.
You still remember how low you felt after things with Frankie, and that was amicably ended.
With Javier, it would sting worse if he turned out to be the arrogant womanizer you’d pegged him as after all the shit that’s transpired between the two of you.
You finish getting ready and head into the kitchenette, grabbing a shot glass. You pour yourself a quick splash of Fireball, hoping it’ll help you feel a little more mellow, maybe a little less wound-up. You toss it back, letting the burn calm the nerves that won’t stop buzzing as the minutes drag by.
Then, you hear the familiar creak of the stairs, the soft shuffle of footsteps, followed by a knock at the door. Your heart skips a beat.
With a deep breath, you slip on a light jacket and grab your purse before unlocking the door and swinging it open.
The sight that greets you could knock the air right from your lungs.
His typical black leather jacket stretches across his broad shoulders, a flushed blue shirt underneath, his neck on full display while the top of his chest teases you beneath the few undone buttons.
His jeans fit him perfectly, hugging his narrow waist and leading down to a pair of well-worn leather boots. But what really catches your attention is the single peony he holds delicately in his hand.
“Hey,” you greet, trying to keep it casual, as if your heart isn’t pounding just from seeing him stand there. He is so damn handsome, it almost feels unfair.
His gaze roams over you, like he doesn’t know where to look, definitely lingering on your legs then your cleavage before his warm, brown eyes meet yours. “You look good, nena.” He leaves you feeling like he’s undressing you with just that look.
You bite back a smile and raise an eyebrow, opting to tease him. “Thanks, Javi. You look… exactly how you always do.”
He chuckles, a lazy smile spreading across his face, and you catch a little dimple on his cheek. “Damn. And here I thought I put in more effort tonight.” He licks his lips, then holds out the flower. “This is for you. I might’ve mentioned our night out to my neighbor, and she clipped this from her garden. Thought it was less on the nose than a red rose.”
You take it from him, its soft petals brushing against your fingers, and bring it to your nose. The sweet, fresh scent makes you sigh a little.
He’s doing the bare minimum, bringing you a fucking flower, and you’re already feeling all warm and mushy. You’ll just blame the one shot of whisky for that. “Talking me up already?”
He chuckles, his eyes appreciating the way your makeup highlights each feature.
“Let’s just say I bum cigarettes off her in exchange for a little company. You just happened to come up.”
“Well now I have to know what you said.”
“Maybe one day.”
This moment already feels charged for no reason.
“I’m going to hold you to that” you warn him playfully. “Thank her for me. And tell her she’s got good taste in flowers.”
He gives you a nod, eyes softening. “I will. You ready?”
“Mhm,” you hum, stepping out to lock the door behind you.
As you turn, you realize how close he’s standing, and the scent of mint and cologne hits you in an instant, making your head spin. He smells fucking incredible.
“So,” you start, trying to ignore the fact that you can practically feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Where are we going?”
He falls into step beside you as you both head down the stairs. “To the best food truck in the city.”
“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, both amused and a little charmed by the casual choice.
He nods, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s by Lake Hollywood Park, which is convenient ‘cause we’ll end our night around there.”
It seems like he has an actual plan for this date, which surprises you, but then again he’s been full of fucking surprises since the moment you met him. “Sounds like fun. Better not be shit though,” you say, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder, twirling the flower between your fingers.
“I think I’ve lived in L.A. long enough now to know what’s good and what isn’t.”
So he’s not native to this city, which was kind of obvious with the slight twang some of his words seem to have. You wonder where he’s actually from.
As you reach the sidewalk, Javier surprises you by sliding his hand into yours, smooth and confident. The gesture catches you off guard, and you can feel heat pooling at your cheeks. He’s annoyingly charming, and he knows it.
His hand is so much bigger than yours, rough skin brushing against your softer palm in a way that feels—well, it feels like it fits.
Your mind doesn’t miss a beat, leaping straight to the memory of his fingers pressed inside you, knuckle deep, his tongue flicking at your clit as you unraveled for him.
You bite the inside of your lip, willing yourself to stay cool, but damn, those hands could do a lot of things.
How you even fit two of his fingers remains a mystery, but it’s one you’re more than willing to solve again.
“This okay?” he asks, glancing down with a glint of mischief in his eyes, catching you right in the middle of your little lustful trance.
“Perfectly fine,” you reply, squeezing his hand, that glint pulling you in deeper, and you let it.
“Okay, I think I have a little more faith in your spot now that we’re here.” You settle across from Javier at the picnic table you managed to snag nearby, eyeing the food as he sets it out between you.
He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “You doubted me?”
“Just a little.” You pinch your thumb and finger together with a playful grin, scrunching your nose as you laugh. His lopsided smile makes an appearance, sending your heart into a flutter.
“Then I’ll let the food do the talking. Let that be my ‘I told you so.’”
“Oh, please, I don’t need to hear that twice in one day.”
As you stick your straw into your cup of hibiscus agua fresca, the sweet flavor hits you instantly, and you let out a delighted little hum without even thinking.
His gaze snaps to you, amusement lighting up his eyes. “Someone’s already beaten me to it?”
“Connie,” you confess, dragging your tray of tacos closer and inhaling the smell that makes your stomach practically growl. “She helped me pick this outfit, you know, since someone here was pretty vague on the details.”
He chuckles, reaching for the salsa verde and giving his tacos a generous drizzle before handing the bottle over. “I told you we’d be outside. I thought that’d be enough.”
You take it from him, fingers brushing together, and damn if your skin doesn’t actually tingle. “Honestly, I was expecting more of a steakhouse vibe.”
He gives a soft scoff, looking amused. “That’s not really my style. I’d feel like a total fraud…” he pauses, studying your expression, “unless that’s what you wanted. I could do it if that’s what you’re into.”
Your tongue darts over your lower lip as you take in his thoughtfulness. “Nah. This is...perfect, actually.”
A light sparks in his eyes at your word choice. “Perfect, huh?”
You playfully roll your eyes, “Uh huh, don’t get a big head over it.”
“So, I owe Connie for getting you in that skirt?” His voice is smooth, that teasing lilt unmistakable.
Heat climbs up your neck, pooling at your cheeks. “You like it?”
His eyes narrow slightly, that look dark and appreciative. “I think it’s sexy as hell, yeah. But in an effort to be more...gentlemanly—Te ves hermosa. Like always.”
Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him laying it on thick, but right now? You don’t mind it at all.
The attention feels genuine, his words dipping straight between your legs rather than floating on his usual bravado.
“Sweet talk me all you want,” you say, trying to rein yourself in, “but the real test of this date’s success? It all lies in this meal.”
He chuckles, and you’re grateful for the little shift, picking up a taco and clinking it with his, like a toast. The first bite is practically life-changing—the smoky, spicy flavors somehow better than you’d even anticipated.
“Oh wow,” you say, chewing slowly with a hand hovering over your mouth. “Not bad, Peña. This is actually delicious.”
His grin is smug, triumphant, and as he takes another bite, you’re momentarily distracted by the way his jaw flexes, muscles taut as he chews. And damn, if you don’t notice every bit of him in that damn leather jacket, his dark hair slightly tousled and looking as if he were some walking sex deity.
You mentally curse yourself for already feeling way too into him.
You chat lightly, going over the usual first-date questions. Somehow, even the simple stuff feels easy and natural with him—there’s something in the way he responds that keeps you drawn in, even if the questions themselves aren’t all that thrilling.
What’s your favorite color? When’s your birthday? Where are you from?
“Texas. And you?” he answers, swiping the napkin over his lips before balling it up, tossing it into his now empty tray.
So he’s a southern boy. That detail definitely adds to his charm. You tell him the name of your hometown, and then, after a beat, add, “Bit far from home, huh? Got family here?”
He shakes his head, reaching into his jacket for a pack of gum. He pulls out two pieces, offering you one.
Okay, another bare minimum act that’s got you all fucking blushy.
“Nah,” he says, chewing his own piece of gum. “It’s just me out here.”
“Your family must be thrilled about what you do…wait, do they know?” you ask, unwrapping the stick and glancing at him.
He sighs, scratching at his jaw. “My pops knows. My mom…” He pauses, a shadow of something crosses his face. “She passed when I was in high school.”
Your heart squeezes, a flicker of guilt making you wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts gently, waving it off casually. “It gets tiring hearing it. But yeah, my pops and the rest of them…they don’t exactly jump for joy when it comes to my job. Guess it’s a good thing I stopped giving a fuck about what they think.”
The reality of it sinks in as you watch him across the table, his eyes distant for a moment. You’d never really thought about how it all might affect him (or any of the other stars, honestly) outside of sets and studios.
The world sees sex work as some kind of sordid choice, casting assumptions.
Sure, it’s got its problematic aspects just like any other industry, but with the puritan culture that’s plagued society since the beginning of time, really, it’s seen as such a devious thing when in reality; it could be something so beautiful. A celebration of the human body, of the unity between two people.
Whether you’re a woman or a man—you bear the weight of every stereotype, every judgment, and, especially, the stigma that comes with it.
You hesitate, but your curiosity gets the best of you. “Are you close with them?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he absently smooths his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, eyes thoughtful. “Yes and no.”
Something in his tone tells you this isn’t a thread to pull on right now. So, you pivot the conversation, deciding to leave that part of him for another night.
You glance at your tray, grinning. “This might actually be the best meal I’ve had in a long time. And I’m not bullshitting you.”
His eyes light up, that charming, lazy smile sliding back into place. “I’ll refrain from saying I told you so.”
You laugh, throwing a crumpled napkin at him, which he catches without missing a beat.
He leans in, his voice low. “So, now that I’ve won your approval in the food department, I’ve gotta finish on a strong note so I don’t mess it all up, right?”
You feel your pulse quicken “Sure do. Got anything up your sleeve, or is this where the gentlemanly plan ends?”
“I’ve got plans.” His voice dips, his eyes tracing over you, wetting his lips and that thudding begins to thrum faintly between your thighs. “Thought we’d take a walk, keep getting to know each other…” The suggestive way in which he’s speaking definitely gives his words a double meaning, “Then head to my favorite lookout spot. Best view in the city, hands down.Whatever happens to feel right can unfold after that.”
“Sounds like you’re anticipating something unfolding.”
“Can you blame me? You’re walkin’ around lookin’ good enough to eat.”
You feel a thrill dancing up your spine at his bluntness, “Boundaries still stand, Javi. I’m not sleeping with you.”
He chuckles, a low, knowing sound that sends your stomach into a twist. “That’s fine. I think I’ve shown we can have plenty of fun without crossing that line.”
Every electrifying sexual encounter hits you all at once, and as much as you’d hate to admit it, he’s right.
No one has ever gotten under your skin or tangled your senses like he does. With Javier, the tension builds until it’s all-consuming—whether it’s the way his hands map every inch of your skin or his mouth works you over. It’s maddening, how easily he pulls you apart and leaves you craving more.
“And If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the one begging for more.”
A hot flash sweeps through you. “You’re so fucking annoying.”
He grins, not missing a beat. “Admit it, you like it.”
And as you share an amused glance, you can’t help but think… yeah, maybe you do.
The two of you walk side by side under the soft glow of the street lights lining the park. He flicks open his lighter, cigarette wedged between his lips, and you watch the quick flame as it lights up his face for a second before fading out.
You would usually mind the smoke, but somehow, with him, it’s just… fitting. A small indulgence that somehow suits his edges.
“Favorite music genre?” you ask, breaking the quiet.
“Would it be a cop-out to say a little bit of everything?”
“Oh absolutely.”
Javier pauses, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Alright, alright. Probably rap. Used to be all about rock—my pops had me hooked young. But out here? My taste has gotten a little West Coast.”
“A Texan boy gone Cali,” you say, feigning surprise. “You love to see it.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling as he glances at you, then flips the question back. “What about you?”
“R&B. Lauryn Hill and Destiny’s Child have provided the soundtracks to some very pivotal moments in my life.”
He nods, and for a while, the conversation flows smoothly from one topic to another—favorite childhood memories, the dumb stuff you did as teenagers, and random things you never imagined you’d share with him.
Javi raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I bet you were a teacher’s pet.”
“Teacher’s pet? No way. I was a bit of a know-it-all, but I had this rebellious streak,” you admit, “Got in trouble more than once for talking back. I just couldn’t help it.”
“Figures. You’ve got that fire.”
Eventually, he flicks his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out before looking at you with a curious glint in his eye. “I gotta ask you something,” he says, his voice dipping just a bit. “And be honest. Why didn’t you like me?”
It’s not the first time he’s asked you this, but now that you’re seeing him in a different light, the answer comes easily, less defensive. “Okay,” you start, meeting his gaze. “I wasn’t a fan of how you... got around. And the way you’d micromanage every move during shoots, like your way was always best. Or how you’d just use your dick to get whatever you wanted.”
His silence stretches, and he takes out another piece of gum, nodding slowly as he listens. “And when we met, you were already trying to charm your way into my pants like I was one of your groupies,” you add, “Made it feel like you were always angling for something. I guess I just didn’t want to be another name on your list.”
He exhales, scratching at his jaw. “Fair enough,” he declares. “I didn’t always used to be like this. The whole showboating thing, it’s sort of… a front, I guess. When I started, I had to become a different version of myself. This cocky asshole who had his shit together because… fuck, I didn’t know what else to do. After the bullshit back home, I needed the distance. I needed to prove something.”
There’s something in his tone that pulls at you, but you don’t press. You’re surprised he’s even sharing this much.
“The women, the confidence—all of it. Figured that’s who I had to be to make it. And it worked up until you left… when I realized just how fucked things had gotten for me. After walkin’ out on Robbie, I’ve been trying to be more careful with the jobs I take but fuck, it’s hard.”
This man—this smooth, confident guy you thought you had all figured out—carries more than his rugged allure and that killer smile.
Sympathy blossoms, the kind that grows for someone who’s managed to build walls without even meaning to.
The details remain unsaid, and though curiosity simmers, you let the silence hang.
“You’ll figure it out, Javi. Life has a funny way of kicking you when you’re down, but somehow, things start falling into place eventually. Might sound like a bad fortune cookie, but it’s true.”
His gaze intense and warm under the park lights, brown eyes looking softer, shadows dancing across his face. The way he looks at you makes your legs shake.
You can’t help the small, vulnerable smile that plays at your lips as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, this moment is worth disregarding your own rules for.
His eyes flicker down to your mouth almost on instinct, and you’re caught in a breath, almost tempted to close the space and feel those lips on yours.
But instead, you let the moment breathe between you, keeping the tension electric, and he’s the one who finally breaks the silence. “Thanks nena. Here’s to hopin’ I don’t have to make a trip down to the unemployment office.” He jokes with a laugh that pulls one out of you too, “Let’s head back. Got one more thing to show you.”
As you both turn back towards his truck, he reaches for your hand again, his fingers curling around yours, gentle and reassuring. You lean into him, resting your head on his arm as you walk. It feels natural, like you’re both finally seeing each other, piece by piece, without all the defenses.
A gentle breeze passes through as you lean against the hood of Javier’s truck, taking in the iconic view.
The twinkling city lights are sprawled out in front of you, while the Hollywood sign looms large and proud in the background. You’ve avoided tourist traps since you moved to LA. Dealing with the general public and pornstars on sets on a daily basis already felt like a big enough dose of Hollywood.
Tonight, though, there’s some kind of magic in being here and you can see why people find themselves drawn to it. Maybe it has something to do with the handsome man beside you.
“You bring all your dates here?” you ask, teasingly.
Javier rubs his lips together, a quiet smile flickering at the edges. “I don’t go on many dates, believe it or not.” He inches a little closer, draping his arm around your shoulder.
“Oh wow, Peña. So smooth.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the steady, intoxicating scent of him, the one that’s been teasing you all night, and how it engulfs you entirely.
There’s a warmth that reaches from his body to yours, one you can’t help but lean into as your hand finds his, fingers lacing loosely.
Resting your head just near his chest, you feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, solid and steady.
“Can’t let this night end without you knowin’ what my intentions are.” He pauses, then adds, “I want to keep seeing you.” His words melt into the night as he dips his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his face nuzzling softly into your hair.
Your breath catches for just a moment, and he feels it too, the faint hesitation creeping in.
Because the truth is, you’re not sure exactly what you want from this. A relationship? A fling? Could you handle being with someone whose job meant fucking other people—even if emotions are fully detatched?
You draw away slightly, positioning yourself to stand between his legs now as he leans against the truck, watching you, a question in his eyes.
“Tonight was wonderful. Better than a lot of first dates I’ve been on…” you trail off, and he quirks an eyebrow, a hint of concern already flashing in his eyes.
“But…?” he prompts, his voice soft but wary.
“Look, I have the utmost respect for what you do. I know what it takes, if anyone can understand what you actors go through, it’s me and all the other crews out there. I’ve seen shit hit the fan more times than I can count.” You twist your fingers, feeling the tension between wanting him and feeling hesitant. “But dating someone in the industry… I don’t know if I’m cut out for that.”
His shoulders drop a little, and he sighs. “Yeah… I figured.” He lets out a rough laugh, though it’s clear he’s disappointed. “Not the first time this has happened, or the last, probably. I just… I guess I was hopin’ this would be different.”
“It’s not about you, or… or the work. I don’t care that you’re in porn.” you say gently. “It’s just the idea of dating someone who—well, you know.”
He lets out a sigh, a heavy, defeated sound, and his eyes meet yours. “I know, nena, trust me. It’s a lot. I’m not holding it against you.” His hand runs over his face, frustration tightening his jaw. “It’s just…disappointing as fuck, but I get it.”
Before he can sink too deeply into the regret, of thinking he’s wasted a night taking you out, you reach out, catching his wrists and gently pulling his hands down. You’re close enough now to feel his breath brush across your cheek, and you hold his gaze, fierce and a little daring.
You’d be fucking stupid to walk away from all this without knowing what it feels like to kiss him, the man who’s wound you up so tight and left you as breathless as he has conflicted.
Slowly, you place his hands on your waist, leaning in until your lips barely touch his, your breath mingling together. You can practically feel his heart beating against his chest.
“Kiss me, Javi,” you murmur.
There’s no hesitation. His mouth meets yours, warm and certain, sending a spark through every nerve. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, and you lose yourself in him.
Javier’s mouth moves against yours like he’s savoring every second, his lips plush and gentle, taking his time.
It’s all so new, so beautifully unhurried.
You meet his pace, moving your lips softly, feeling the slight press and release. When he parts from you slightly, you’re already missing the taste of his mouth, chasing after him.
Then he tilts his head and leans in again, deepening the kiss, his lips fitting against yours with more purpose. He presses closer, his body warm and solid, and you feel his tongue swipe slowly across your lower lip.
A shiver runs through you as you part your lips for him, and the moment his tongue dips into your mouth, a soft moan escapes you, helpless against the sensation.
The sound seems to set something off inside him. Suddenly, the kiss grows hot and urgent, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s afraid to let go, kneading the flesh there while his mouth moves against yours with a new hunger.
Your own hands find their way to his jaw, your fingers sliding up to frame his face, desperate to bring him closer, needing the taste of him to linger.
The feel of his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin adds an edge that only heightens every sensation he’s bestowing on you.
Your tongue meets his, every glide and stroke of it fueling an ache that spreads through you, heat pooling as your teeth clash slightly, both of you pouring months of pent-up desire and frustration into this kiss.
His hold on your waist tightens as your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging at it, and he lets out a low, guttural grunt that gets your bones vibrating.
In one swift movement, Javier maneuvers you, switching positions so that your back is pressed against the hood of his truck.
The cool metal beneath you contrasts with the heat of his body, and one of his hands slides from your waist, strong and possessive, until it grips the plushness of your thigh, hitching it over his hip and pulling your core against his.
The friction, the way his body aligns so perfectly with yours, ignites every nerve in your body.
You gasp against his mouth when his hard length presses against your clothed cunt, right where you need him most. The pressure sends a surge of arousal pooling low in your belly, and you arch into him, craving his intensity.
Your own hands roam, sliding to his jaw, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your palm, then his back, his shoulders, reveling in the feel of him. His mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, tracing a slow, wet line down to your neck, where he leaves a trail of heated kisses that have you gasping for air.
The burn in your lungs is nothing compared to the ache building between your legs, an ache that only grows sharper every time he ruts his hips against yours.
“Gonna make me cum in my pants kissin’ me like that,” he mumbles against your neck..
He drags his lips back up, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing you into another kiss—this one softer, more controlled, yet no less potent.
You’re breathless when you part again, but it’s as though your body doesn’t care, desperate to keep feeling him against you.
When he reaches the curve of your breasts, he pauses, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses over the swells, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth just enough to make you shiver.
“Please, Javi,” you murmur, though you’re not even sure what you’re asking for. All you know is that you’re floating in this thick haze of desire, utterly lost in him, the feel of his lips, the intoxicating drag of his teeth against your skin.
His mouth curls into a smirk against your collarbone, and he lifts his head slightly, his hand sliding over the fabric of your top, shifting it down until your breasts are bared to the cool night air.
You gasp, eyes widening, instinctively sitting up straighter, a half-laugh, half-nervous glance flicking around your surroundings, instinctively pulling him closer to shield you.
His dark eyes meet your gaze, a flicker of mischief swirling with the lust there.
“Here? What if someone sees us?” you breathe, heart thudding in your chest as the chill hardens your nipples to sensitive peaks.
“No one’s gonna bother us, nena, te lo prometo.” Before you can respond, his mouth is on your neck, placing a soft, slow kiss there, licking a stripe and tasting your perfume.
His hands find your breasts, fingers curling around the supple skin, his thumbs brushing your nipples in languid circles that have you melting against him, your breath catching with each teasing stroke.
It’s impossible to focus on anything when Javier’s so in tune with every inch of your body, instinctively reading each gasp and shiver.
His hands are so skilled, cupping, squeezing, until one trails along your waist, playing with your pretty skirt with a firm, claiming touch.
It's the perfect push and pull that floods your senses with him, until you’re completely lost.
His scent fills your lungs, his taste lingers on your tongue, feeling his perfect fucking body against you, hearing his subtle grunts, your vision glazed over with tears of pleasure from how he’s making you feel.
He watches your reactions, eyes dark and filled with a simmering hunger as you lean flat against the hood of the truck, giving him access.
His mouth descends again, and he looks up at you when he’s reached your breasts. “Not gonna fuck you, since I’m bein’ a gentleman and all,” he murmurs, the words hot against your skin, “but I am gonna get you off just by playin’ with your tits.”
The whimper you let out is animalistic, your legs wrapping around his waist, pressing him closer.
Javier’s mouth is unrelenting, lips wrapping around your nipple with a hot, wet pressure that sends electric jolts straight to your cunt.
His tongue swirls over the sensitive peak, teasing it, as his teeth scrape the aching bud ever so lightly, making you gasp. Then he shifts, sinking his mouth lower to nip, to suck harder, his fingers coming up to twist your other nipple roughly, pinching and tugging at it, making you cry and writhe beneath him.
“Oh fuck that feels so good.” You can’t help but be so vocal and he loves it, the sound of your voice doing just as much to get him off in the same way that his mouth doesn’t let up on your tits.
His other hand is no less demanding, gripping your thigh and ass with rough squeezes, the heat of his touch spreading through the thin barrier of your skirt. When he smacks your flesh, the jolt arches your back off the hood of the truck, pulling a breathy moan from your lips that has him smirking against your chest.
You’re soaked, and he can feel it, his cock pressing insistently against the heat of your clothed pussy as your hips grind down onto him, building a rhythm that he matches with his mouth.
His tongue circles, flicks, and finally he pulls at the hard peak with his teeth, sending another shockwave through your body that has you rolling your hips, more wildly against him.
He pulls back just enough, a string of saliva still connecting him to you as he murmurs, “Baby, just with the way you’re movin’ your hips, I can tell you ride cock like a fuckin’ champ.”
His praise lights you up, fueling your need. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull him back to your chest.
He groans, his mouth latching onto your other breast with fervor, tongue flicking over your nipple rapidly before he pulls it into his mouth, the wet sounds of his lips smacking against your flesh, working your sensitive and pert nipples is filthy and obscene in the best way possible.
“So good, Javi… I’m so close,” you manage, the words spilling out unbidden.
He lets out a low groan as he adjusts the angle of your hips, pressing you firmly against his erection. The new angle grinds perfectly against your clit, drawing you deeper into the pleasure until it’s all-consuming, each nerve tuned only to him.
“Oh, god… Javi,” you gasp, feeling the familiar coil of pleasure tighten, your orgasm creeping closer with every pull, every flick, every grind.
Your body is on fire, trembling as you near the edge, your breaths coming in gasps as you hump him, completely lost to the intensity building.
Javier’s mouth alternates between your breasts, each suck and bite tugging moans out of you until you feel like you might lose it.
When his lips finally find yours again, his fingers replace his mouth on your chest, rough and insistent as they pinch and twist your sensitive nipples.
His tongue sweeps into your mouth, deepening the kiss while your body trembles, your jaw slack as you melt into him, moaning his name into his mouth as your orgasm breaks over you in a helpless wave of bliss.
Your body locks up, head canting back and hitting the material beneath you with a gentle thump as you wail his name out into the night.
“That's right, baby, just like that,” he murmurs, his praise and gentle kisses softening the overstimulation into something even more intoxicating.
His mouth trails over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, every kiss pressing into your flushed skin while spots of pleasure blur your vision.
As you go limp against the cool hood, Javier’s touch softens on your chest, his fingers now gently kneading the sensitive flesh while he eases you back down, his lips trailing tender kisses over each swell before pulling your top back into place.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his deep inhale followed by warm, nipping kisses, his mustache scratching your skin just enough to bring out a fresh shiver from you.
“Javi,” you whimper, barely catching your breath, utterly wrecked and starstruck, amazed that he brought you so much pleasure by just teasing your breasts and rutting against you.
“Yeah?” His voice is a husky rasp, a hint of satisfaction at his lips.
You giggle, breathless, “I… don’t even know…” You laugh again, and he joins in, that low laugh rumbling in his chest as he cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“You enjoy that?” He tilts his head to the side, smugly grinning down at you.
“What do you think?” you tease back, still panting, eyes half-lidded.
You can’t help but admire how sexy he looks with his swollen lips and mussed hair.
“Wait you didn't finish—” You murmur, beginning to reach down to toy with his belt, but he catches your hand gently.
“Don’t worry about me, nena.” His gravelly voice reassures you. “Seein’ you like this is enough for me.”
You frown, feeling like you should do something for him, but before you can argue, he’s leaning down to kiss you again, over and over, until you’re both sinking into another slow, heated makeout session under the open sky, everything else fading away.
You’re standing in front of your door, the glow of your porch light casting soft shadows over the two of you. “Thanks for tonight; I had a great time,” you say, though your legs still feel shaky from what happened earlier.
Javier’s eyes linger on you, “Thank you for letting me take you out,” he says, his tone soft. “Even if… things aren’t ending the way I’d hoped.”
A frown flickers on your face, but you keep your tone light, forcing a gentle laugh.“We can still be friends, you know? That’s one hell of an improvement from where we started.”
But your attempt to ease the tension doesn’t reach him; his expression remains fixed, serious.
“I don’t think I can just be friends with you.”
Then he goes and says something stupid like that.
“So, what now?” you ask, voice sharper than you meant, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “We just… go our separate ways? Pretend none of this ever happened?”
He looks down, his jaw tense, and the silence that follows is thick, each second feeling like an eternity. His eyes meet yours and he sighs.
“I guess so.”
You release a bitter huff, shaking your head as you turn away, rummaging in your purse for your keys.
Fine. Fine. If that’s the way he wants it, you’ll let it be.
He calls your name, his voice slipping through your defenses like a last-ditch plea, making your shoulders tense. You ignore him, wrestling down the tide of frustration and vulnerability clawing its way back up.
You’d told yourself you didn’t want to get involved with him from the start, and now it feels like you should have stuck to your guns. Would have been easier to just tell him to kiss your ass that day he came into the bar, seducing you in your apartment, then asking you out on a date that ultimately meant nothing.
You find your keys and jam them into the lock, refusing to look back.
The second time he says your name, it’s firmer, and you whirl around to face him.
“Javier, listen—before tonight, I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d ever be into you. But I gave you a shot, and turns out, you’re not that bad. You’re actually pretty fucking sweet,” you confess, half-laughing, but it’s tinged with the bitterness that you feel. “And maybe if things were different, I could see us together. But things aren’t different. They’re the same as they always have been, and I won’t make you choose between me and your job.”
“I could quit—”
You let out a laugh, loud and unfiltered. “And do what? You’re damn good at what you do, Javi. I’ve seen it firsthand, and yeah, most of the time it’s some pretty raunchy shit, but there’s something almost… artistic in it, and I’d feel selfish as hell if I was the reason you gave that up.”
He places his hands on his hips, shifting his weight, exasperation written in every taut line of his body. “Do I need to remind you that I’m a grown-ass man who can make his own decisions? I’m starting to hate this job, and I want you. I don’t care if I have to work a hundred side gigs. If that’s what it takes for you to be mine, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
The weight of his confession makes your grip on the doorknob tighten, his words sinking deeper than you want them to.
“Javi, please, think this through—”
“You sound like my agent,” he interrupts with a dry laugh, flexing his jaw. “I’ve thought about it. It’s all I can think about. I can’t even keep my cock hard enough to fuck the girls on set anymore, and like I told you before—I’m not taking pills for that shit.”
He steps closer, and you feel a pang in your chest as his hand brushes yours, his gaze desperate, pleading with you to see him the way he sees you.
But it’s messy and it’s hard, and even if it’s everything you didn’t know you wanted, you’re terrified it might be everything you don’t know how to hold onto.
His hands slide up, fingers splaying gently over your cheeks, holding you as if he’s anchoring himself. “Please stop fighting me on this,” he murmurs insistently. “I know what I want, and it’s you.”
The intensity in his eyes roots you in place, brown and warm and so damn certain it’s almost overwhelming. You’re taken aback by the softness in his touch, by how steady his hands feel against your face.
He’s usually much braver in action than in words, and yet here he is, unwavering.
“And you’re sure?” you whisper, not sure you can even trust yourself to hold up your guard.
“Si, nena.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt, just a rock-solid conviction that somehow soothes your racing heart.
“You’re not gonna regret this down the line? Not even a little?”
“Absolutely not.” His answer is quick and firm, like he’s spent every minute leading up to this one, getting ready to say it.
Oh, fuck. With him looking at you like that, you know you don’t really have any other choice but to give Javier Peña a shot at being your boyfriend.
“Okay… okay, Javi, fine. We’ll see where this goes, but if you start having even one doubt—”
He doesn’t let you finish, cutting you off with his mouth on yours, pulling you close in a kiss that’s somehow even more intense than you were expecting.
It’s deep and consuming, worlds away from anything you’ve ever felt, like he’s pouring everything he has into it, and you can’t help but lose yourself in him like you have been since the moment things shifted in your dynamic.
When you finally come up for air, foreheads resting against each other, you’re both a little breathless, eyes shining with adoration.
“So...we’re doing this?” he asks, a crooked smile on his face that makes him look boyish and so damn pretty.
“I guess we are.”
“Does that mean I can come inside?” And with the way his lips quirk up into a cocky smile, you know exactly what this motherfucker means.
“Nope, we’re taking things slow… and I’m not fucking you until you get tested.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, “Fair enough. I can work with that.”
You kiss again, his mouth soft and so damn inviting that it takes all your willpower to pull yourself back before you’re tempted to give in right here, in the doorway. “Alright, Javi,” you murmur, feeling his breath linger against your lips as he bites playfully at your lower lip before letting you go. “Goodnight.”
He’s grinning, and it’s that smile that has a way of melting everything inside you. “Goodnight, nena. I’ll call you, set up our second date. Soon.”
The giddiness hits you hard—like back when Frankie was all about pursuing you, only it’s different this time and you don’t know why.
‘“I’ll be waiting.”
He quirks a brow. “I won’t make you wait too long.”
One last, lingering kiss and he’s gone, leaving you at the door, flushed, breathless, and completely jumbled in the best way possible.
“It feels weird being on this side of the bar,” you say, settling onto a barstool across from Connie. Javier slides into the stool next to you, immediately pulling you closer, his hand warm and possessive on your thigh.
“If you’re here to flaunt your relationship, you should start charging for it—I know I’d pay to see it,” Connie teases with a wink, already preparing your usual drink and turning to Javier. “And what about you?”
“Whiskey. Neat,” he answers, then leans into you, his voice a murmur by your ear, his hand slipping higher up your thigh, sneaking under the hem of your dress. “She does have a point, though.”
You smirk, pretending to ignore the way his fingers are trailing dangerously close to your panties. “Not sure I’d be any good on camera. Not like you, anyway.”
He chuckles and you can feel the heat between you two, that ever-present hum of lust you’ve been riding since the night he first kissed you.
It’s been blissful a month of dating Javier, and being with him is like no relationship you’ve had before.
You’ve found so much joy in the simplest moments with him—like when he fixes the little issues around your apartment that your landlord could care less about, or, the lively debates you have in the grocery store aisles, passionately debating which brand of coffee is better.
Sure, you still haven’t officially slept with him, but that hasn’t stopped either of you from exploring each other. He’s kept his promise to make you feel amazing, finding delicious ways to learn your body without actually crossing that line.
It has only made everything feel deeper, sweeter. The way you make out like teenagers, unraveling each other in all the ways that matter, has been more than enough.
It wasn’t until a few days ago that you finally returned the favor, slipping into the shower with him and blowing his mind in every sense of the word, until he was helplessly spilling down your throat. Your jaw’s still a little sore from how eagerly you’d gone down on him, the memory of his breathless groans seared in your mind.
Tonight, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, officially. He’d planned this whole evening at a rooftop restaurant, it was a little too fancy, but he looked at you like he couldn’t believe his luck.
The restaurant itself was overpriced and borderline ridiculous, but you two had made a game of it, teasing and laughing over the small portions and the pretentious plating.
He even surprised you with a beautiful pair of earrings that you immediately put on, and he looked so damn proud when you showed them off.
Now you’re here at Lucky’s, both of you a bit overdressed, not ready to call it a night yet.
You can feel Javier’s gaze on you, intense and unwavering. “Baby, you’d be a fucking sight,” he says, teeth grazing your earlobe before he bites down gently, his warm breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver through you. You can’t help but giggle, feeling breathless and flushed as he plants a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Why are you two all dressed up?” Connie asks, setting your drinks down with a raised brow.
“Went out for dinner at the most overpriced spot I’ve ever set foot in. Easily spent my entire Friday night’s tips, and I’m still hungry.”
“Not only does that sound like a waste of time, but it’s definitely not your style.”
Javier leans back, one arm draped over your barstool. “To clarify: she didn’t spend a damn dime,” he interjects, “I had to take her somewhere special to ask her to be my girl,” he says, voice dripping with smooth confidence as he raises his glass for a sip.
Connie’s eyes light up, and your cheeks flush. “Consistent dick is the ultimate antidepressant. Trust me, I’d know,” she says with a wink.
You laugh at her bluntness, and fall into an easy rhythm of conversation, her giving updates on things with Steve, then gushing over the earrings Javier had gifted you earlier.
Just as you’re leaning in to admire them together, you notice a figure approaching. A woman, older and stunningly beautiful, glides up to the bar—her gaze fixed squarely on Javier.
“Javier, is that you?” Her voice is low, sultry, every word dripping with familiarity as she slides up beside him, her gaze unmistakably hungry. “Dios mío, mira qué guapo te has puesto, mi amor.”
Your head snaps up, conversation with Connie dissolving as Javier stands, greeting her with a hug that makes you do a double take.
You share a look with Connie, her expression mirroring the curious frown you feel. She raises her brows, silently mouthing, Who is that?
I don’t know, you mouth back, jealousy twisting in your stomach as you glance back at them.
They part, but her hands linger a moment too long on his chest, her manicured fingers trailing down. Javier very politely but firmly moves them away, a small frown creeping onto her face.
“Judy, long time no see.” His tone is courteous but distant. “This is my girlfriend,” he says, his voice warm as he makes the introduction, stepping back to your side, positioning you squarely in her line of sight.
You’re about to revel in the term girlfriend rolling so easily off his tongue, but her eyes lock onto you with a chill that runs down your spine. Standing your ground, you straighten, meeting her gaze head-on.
She’s stunning, her hair tastefully graying in elegant streaks against her rich brunette, her makeup precise and expensive. The smile lines around her mouth only enhance her aging beauty and if it weren’t for the absolute diabolical vibes you’re getting from her, you would have complimented how good she looks.
The tailored outfit, chunky gold bracelets, diamond-studded earrings and matching necklace leave no question—she has money.
What she’s doing at a dive bar like Lucky’s is beyond you, but maybe LA has its fill of pretentious types everywhere.
“Encantada,” she purrs, a fake smile flashing across her face before her focus shifts back to Javier. “¿Tienes novia? No lo puedo creer, Javiercito. Nunca me lo imaginé de ti.¿Sigues actuando?”
Her words drip with disbelief, her eyes giving you a nasty once over, and you catch enough Spanish to know she’s making a point to speak only to him. It’s like you’re just a side note, something to size up and dismiss.
Javier shifts, catching the tension in your posture, but she’s unrelenting. He responds curtly, “No, not with others. More solo work now.”
She scoffs, a haughty tsk of disapproval as she tilts her head.“No me digas que tu noviecita no te deja.” A mocking pout twists her lips. “Mija, if you’re going to date a pornstar, you’re going to have to deal with the baggage that comes with it. You don’t just get to benefit from him, from what I taught him.”
A flush of fury burns through you, and you’re on the verge of standing up, ready to beat her ass for her audacity. But Javier senses it and steps in, fingers pressing gently but firmly against your thigh, silently calming you down before you do something that’ll make him have to bail you out.
“It was my choice. Gig isn’t fun anymore,” he says firmly, a hint of irritation finally creeping into his tone. “We’re actually in the middle of a date, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving us to it…”
She glances between the two of you, clearly displeased at being dismissed but not quite willing to push her luck. Her smile turns syrupy, and you roll your eyes, signaling Connie for another drink. She’s failing miserably at pretending like she’s not listening in.
“Of course,” she says in a sugary tone, eyes lingering on him.“Provecho. Si cambias tu mente, sabes donde encontrarme, Javi. We used to have so much fun together.” Her fingers trace down his arm a little too slowly, and she practically purrs, “Enjoy your date, sweetheart,” as she struts off, hips swinging with exaggerated flair.
But his eyes don’t follow, they turn to you.
Once she’s out of earshot, you raise a brow, waiting for some explanation. “So… who was that?” you ask as he sits back beside you, tossing back the last of his drink.
“An old colleague,” he says flatly.
You feel another surge of jealousy, and the second your drink arrives, you’re downing it in one go.
“Woah, nena, take it easy—”
“Is that normal for you?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation bubbling up. “Having fans… ‘colleagues’ just approach you out of nowhere, all of them ready to fuck?” You know your tone’s more annoyed than you intended, but the image of her hands all over him pisses you off.
He studies you, cautious, as if measuring his words. “Honestly? Yes. I’m very popular, baby,” he says with a crooked smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “I thought you knew that.”
You let out a sigh, guilt creeping in for directing your irritation at him. “I know… I do. There’s just a difference between knowing and actually experiencing it.” You try to keep the bite out of your tone. “It’s not like she was being subtle either. Looked like she was two seconds away from spreading herself out for you right here.”
There’s definitely an adjustment that still needs to be made in terms of dating a pornstar.
“I’ll be better about shutting them down,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even if you do look hot when you’re jealous.”
You try to suppress a smile, rolling your eyes as he leans closer, brushing his lips along your bare shoulder, then trailing up to your neck, melting your frustration just a bit. He’s too good at this.
“I wasn’t jealous,” you lie, glancing sideways at him. “Also didn’t peg you as an ‘older women’ guy. I’ve only ever seen you with the younger girls.” Saying it even makes you cringe.
As if on cue, Connie, ever the observant bartender, swoops in with replacement drinks, eyebrows raised knowingly. “Everything good over here? I don’t need to call an ambulance or anything, right?”
You snort out a laugh, shaking your head. “No, Con, we’re fine.”
“Even though I wouldn’t mind seeing her kick some ass.” Javier teases.
She laughs, nodding at you. “Oh, you want to see her fight? Be here during a major sports event. Last year during March Madness, she gave this guy a black eye ‘cause he called her a cunt when she accidentally changed the channel, then ended up going toe-to-toe with his girlfriend.”
Javier raises his brows at you. “Seriously?”
You shrug, unfazed. “They asked for it.”
As Connie gets pulled away by some patrons at the other end of the bar, Javier turns to you, his expression shadowed and a bit more serious than before.
“When I first started, my confidence was shot. I’m talkin’ nonexistent,” he admits, his voice low.
You arch a brow, struggling to picture a less-than-assured Javier Peña. “Really? I’m having a hard time imagining that.”
“Yeah, well…” He lets out a rough sigh, “When your fiancée gets knocked up and leaves you at the altar for the guy she’s been cheating on you with, that tends to happen.”
You choke on your drink, and your hand flies to your chest, eyes wide. He glances at you, his concern slipping past his own discomfort for a second. You wave him off as you try to get it together, the words still rattling around in your mind.
“Sorry—what?” you finally manage, hardly believing what you just heard.
“Didn’t mean to dump it on you like that,” he says, leaning on the bar, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the counter, his gaze cast downward.
“Hold up. You were engaged?” You can’t help but lean in, your curiosity clawing to the surface. “And she left you?” You’re struggling to piece it all together, mind spinning through images of the man sitting next to you, younger and heartbroken.
“Yeah,” his jaw twitches. “Her name was Lorraine. We were high school sweethearts—whole ‘marry your first love’ thing.” There’s a hard edge in his voice now, his fingers gripping the glass a bit tighter. “Thought I’d have the life, fill a house with kids, do the whole all-American family bullshit.” His words are bitter, the resentment so clear you almost feel it yourself.
He takes a breath, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “Wedding day comes around and she’s gone. Left some half-assed note saying she ‘couldn’t do it,’ and her sister finally broke down and told me what was really going on. She’d been screwing her boss. He got her pregnant.”
There’s a crash behind the bar as a glass shatters. You glance over to see Connie, her face red, scrambling to clean it up with an embarrassed apology. You can’t blame her for listening in—you’re feeling a similar gut punch.
You knew there was something that happened that made him jump the gun and move to California, now, you know what it is. An ain’t shit ex.
“Javi, that’s fucked. I can’t even begin to imagine how much that must have hurt.”
He gives a small nod, lifting his glass and taking a slow sip.
From where you’re sitting, you can see his profile in the low light—his strong nose, the gentle curve of his cheekbones, those lips that naturally form a pout when he’s deep in thought.
"I tried to keep it together, but that town became… suffocating. The looks I got…” Javier’s voice trails off as he shakes his head. “So I packed my shit, said goodbye to my pops, and just started driving. Stopped in all sorts of places, did some sightseeing, trying to figure things out.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips. “Ended up here, and Steve was the first friend I made. That asshole’s the one who got me into porn.”
Your brows shoot up, surprised yet again by his story’s unexpected turns. “Steve? Oh god, don’t tell me he used to do it too.”
Javier smirks, amusement dancing in his eyes. “He did a few flicks. Nothing groundbreaking like me.” He says all cheekily, and you can’t help but nudge him. “So, yeah, I started out for a few bucks. Wasn’t so hot in the beginning—and then I met Judy.”
At the mention of her, your face twists involuntarily, and he notices but ignores your reaction.
“She taught me most of what I know, and we shot a lot of projects together. People liked what they saw, and after a while, I started getting paired with older co-stars. That kinda became my thing. MILFs and cougars,” he says, his gaze tracing your features to gauge your response.
You’re still reeling from everything he’s told you so far, marveling at the many lives this man has lived before finding his way to you. “That explains a lot, actually,” you say, your thoughts slipping out with your words.
It now makes sense why he’s so damn good at foreplay. Skills like his? They’re honed under women who know exactly what the fuck they’re talking about, who aren’t shy to take what they need.
Suddenly, your own insecurities begin to simmer and you wonder if you’ll ever amount to the women before you.
He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yeah? Like what?”
You glance up, unflinching. “Like the fact that you can fuck.” Your bluntness pulls a laugh out of both of you—his full of mischief, yours tinged with nerves.
“Not a problem, is it?” he asks, that signature smirk softened, yet curious.
It’s a loaded question, so you take a sip, buying a little time before answering. “What, that you can fuck?”
He laughs again, more genuine this time, a sound that melts some of the tension inside you.
“No, nena,” he replies, still grinning. “Everything else.”
The laughter fades, and for a moment, you sit in the quiet, watching tiny droplets slide down the condensation on your glass.
You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for honesty. “It’s not a problem, Javi. But… if I’m being real with you, I don’t feel up to par with what you’re used to.”
You can tell from the way his face falls into a scowl that he doesn’t like how you’ve phrased it. “What I have with you is different, cariño. Not something scripted for a camera.”
“I know that, but still. You’re used to professionals—people who know exactly what to do, how to look, how to please. Me?” You let out a shaky laugh, grimacing at your self deprecation, and your gaze falls to the drink in your hand. “You’re lucky if I even get on top.”
As the last word falls, your cheeks flush with embarrassment, feeling raw and exposed at a fucking dive bar.
Before you can turn further away, Javier leans in close, gently catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His expression is nothing but tender, his dark eyes soft.
“Hey, stop that,” he murmurs, his voice so gentle it’s almost a whisper. “You’re more than enough. Trust me.” His fingers stroke softly along your jaw, lingering. “I wasn’t looking for a waxed-up, camera-ready professional. I wanted something real and I found you.”
Your heart stirs at the depth in his voice. He lets out a small breath, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek. “I know you’ve got your hang-ups, and I get it. I’ve been there. It’s… hard to feel like you’re enough when you’re constantly comparing yourself to people who don’t even matter. But I’m tellin’ you, baby, it shouldn’t be like that with us.”
He shifts a little closer, his gaze earnest. “I’ll help you feel more confident the way someone once did for me. But the difference? I’m givin’ you everything. Not just sex, not just some half-hearted attempt. I’m here—all in.”
You swallow the mix of emotions he’s just poured into you—gratitude, desire, and a newfound trust that fills the spaces where your insecurities had settled.
Your eyes search his, words catching in your throat as you try to express everything you’re feeling. But instead of speaking, you reach for the hand at your face, your stare steady as you quietly murmur, “Let’s go upstairs.”
You stumble through the door, bodies pressed close as you and Javier crash into the walls of your apartment, lips never parting for more than a heartbeat.
Your hands roam each other’s bodies, his fingers tracing down your spine, your own tugging eagerly at his shirt, popping buttons until it falls open, greedily feeling up on his warm and toned chest.
His belt follows, clinking to the floor, and as you kick off your heels, you barely register the sound of them hitting the ground—lost in the heavy rhythm of your pulse, the taste of his mouth, the roughness of his scruff.
He sinks down onto the edge of your bed, and you move to straddle him, but he catches you just in time, leaning back a bit with a smirk. “Take your dress off…” he orders, his voice gravelly as his eyes travel hungrily over you, biting his lower lip.
Your heart races as you take a few steps back, antsy fingers reaching for the zipper at your side.
“Slowly,” he adds, and you slow down, teasing him as you draw the zipper down until your dress is loose against your skin.
Holding it to your chest with one hand, you turn around, letting it slip and fall in a gentle whisper to the floor, leaving you standing in just your underwear.
His satisfied hum makes you shiver, and you feel his gaze burn down your back, over the curve of your hips, your thighs.
Looking over your shoulder with a flirty smile, you catch his eye, and he grins in return.
“Turn around, baby, let me see you.”
You turn to face him, nerves quieted by the way he’s looking at you—as if he’s seeing you naked for the first time.
He lets out a soft, almost reverent groan, then extends his hands, urging you closer. You step forward, your hands finding his shoulders as you finally straddle his lap, his warmth searing through you.
His mouth captures yours, rough hands sliding up to cup your breasts, teasing your nipples until you’re trembling, gasping against his lips as you remember what happened the last time he toyed with you like this.
“Javi…” you whisper his name, your voice barely a breath as you pull away just enough to speak, eyes meeting his. “I want you. All of you.” You lean in to kiss him again, fervent, moving to trail your lips along his jaw, nipping lightly.
“I want you to fuck me.” You say it firmly, leaving no room for doubt, wanting him to understand exactly what you need.
He groans deeply, his hands dropping to grip your ass and pull you closer. “Are you sure?” his nose brushes along your neck, his breath hot against your skin as you continue kissing along his jaw.
“Yes, Javi,” you breathe out, voice thick with need, “I need you so bad.”
With practiced ease, Javier shifts you onto your back, stretching out beneath him as he hovers close, his touch claiming every inch of exposed skin. His hands trail over you, hot and lingering, and you feel like you’re melting beneath him, completely under his control.
When he finally pulls away to slip out of his remaining clothes, you see his gaze wander, fixated on something by your bedside table.
Following his line of sight, you realize he’s locked onto the purple vibrator you’d left out after using it the other night when he wasn’t around, leaving you to fend for yourself.
A sly smile tugs at his lips as he reaches over, picking it up and turning it over in his hand. “This little thing gets you off?” he teases, holding it up as though he’s sizing up the competition.
You roll your eyes, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer, but he resists, firmly planted just out of reach.“When I’m in a pinch, yes. Haven’t exactly needed it much lately, thanks to you.”
A thoughtful hum escapes him as he glances between you and the toy, as if weighing his options. Then, moving back over you, he kneels between your thighs, one hand gripping your hip possessively, teasing the band of your panties, while the other holds the vibrator with a wicked gleam. “I think we could put this to good use tonight.”
The spark of excitement floods through you, making your thighs tense instinctively, hips lifting slightly in response. Javier notices, his smirk widening as he lets the band of your panties snap back against your skin, making you gasp.
His eyes darken as he watches you writhe, clearly savoring your every little movement.
“Oh, yeah?” you manage to ask, your voice breathy with anticipation. “How?”
Instead of answering, he switches the toy on, and the low, steady hum fills the room. His eyes never leave you as he drags it lightly over your pelvis, nowhere close to where you ache for him, but enough to make your breath hitch, a soft moan slipping out as you arch into his touch.
His grip on your hip tightens. “Stay still,” he commands, using that sexy bedroom voice of his that’s even more gravelly and deeper than his usual cadence.
Obediently, you settle back, watching him with bated breath. He keeps the toy hovering just above your soaked panties, tantalizingly close to where you need him most.
When he finally presses it down on your clothed pussy, just enough to tease, you let out a low, pleading whimper, your hands gripping the sheets as he works you over in slow, cruel strokes.
His stare holds yours, a silent promise that tonight, he’s going to take his time, making sure you feel every single second of it.
Your breaths come out heavy and uneven, your whole body tensing as you fight the urge to grind up against it, trying to maintain some composure while he has you pinned down beneath that slow, teasing rhythm.
Javier moves the toy in tight, deliberate circles, dragging it excruciatingly slow over your needy clit, the first setting absolute torture.
He’s in no hurry, watching with intense focus as you tremble, his eyes tracing every twitch, every bead of arousal that weeps from your cunt, dampening the thin fabric even more.
He keeps that maddening pace, and as the vibrations ripple through you, you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, an orgasm coiling dangerously tight, ready to snap.
Your nails dig into the duvet, a strangled moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, fuck, Javi—I’m… I’m gonna come—”
But just as you reach that edge, he pulls the toy away and turns it off, leaving you gasping, the sensation dissipating as quickly as it built. Your eyes snap open and you sit up slightly, desperate and hazy, locking onto him. “What the fuck?”
“Shh,” he hushes you, though there’s no denying the look of satisfaction on his face. Javi brushes his lips over the corner of your mouth, calming you with a soft, feather-light kiss. “Just trust me, okay? You know I always take care of you.”
You do know. This man has pulled so many orgasms right out of your body without even fucking you with his dick. That reassurance melts away your frustration from being pulled back from the precipice. You nod, swallowing hard. “Okay.”
Your lips meet in a kiss that’s so intoxicating, tongues sliding against each other, his hand skipping down your side to the band of your panties.
Slowly, he drags the fabric down, his fingers gliding over your skin, leaving a blazing trail as they go.
When he finally discards your underwear, you’re left bare beneath him, exposed and aching, while he still wears that unbuttoned dress shirt, his slacks riding low on his hips, half undone.
It’s annoying how good he looks—just dressed enough to drive you wild with impatience.
He taps your knee, urging you to spread wider, his gaze fixed on you with unrestrained desire. And the way he looks at you—like you’re all he’s ever wanted—banishes every flicker of self-doubt, every whisper of insecurity.
You let yourself open up to him completely, your sticky, swollen pussy on full display, pulsing in anticipation, needing him more than words can say.
His eyes rake over you with reverence, dark and smoldering as he drinks in every inch of yourself that you’re offering to him, his chest rising and falling a little heavier.
“Always so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss to your knee before settling back between your legs.
The vibrator flicks on again, and he traces it up your inner thighs, letting you tremble beneath his touch. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the urge to shout at him to stop playing around, to just give it to you.
Javier trails the toy along your slick lips, his gaze dark and hungry as your arousal drips out of your cunt, every inch of your body clenching with need. When he finally presses the vibrator to your clit, a shudder ripples through you, your back arching off the bed.
He groans low and deep, clearly savoring your reaction.
“Javi,” you moan, hips already grinding against the pressure as he keeps the vibrator in place, turning up the intensity to make you gasp, your body moving to meet it, demanding more.
“Feel good, baby?” he murmurs, his voice like smoke.
“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out, nodding feverishly, your eyes squeezed shut as you let the pleasure wash over you, helplessly rocking against him.
But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls it away.
Over and over, he teases, edging you with that relentless, maddening rhythm, each denial more tortuous than the last.
He alternates between fucking the toy inside you, pressing it against the fleshy cleft of your clit, and peppering soft, almost loving kisses down your body: your neck, your jaw, the valley between your breasts. His tongue traces your nipple in slow circles, flicking it just enough to drive you wild, until you’re a trembling, teary mess beneath him, desperate for release.
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he coos, stroking your cheek as he sets the vibrator to its highest setting, plunging it inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy crying around it only fuel his hunger as he watches your face.
You feel his fingers cup your jaw, firm and unyielding, his eyes blazing into yours as you cling to his touch, mascara running down your cheeks, feeling so utterly wrecked.
“Please, Javi… please let me come,” you beg, your voice ragged. But he just tightens his hold, fingers digging into the skin of your cheeks, pressing the toy in deep as his thumb circles your clit, leaving you breathless.
“Just when you think you can let go… it’s snatched from you,” he whispers, ignoring your pleas, dragging you to the brink only to pull the vibrator away once again, leaving you a shaking, furious mess.
A strangled sound escapes your throat, torn between anger and need, barely feeling like yourself.
Javier chuckles, bending down to nip at your chin, his teeth grazing your skin before his tongue traces a line up your jaw. “That’s how you’ve been making me feel for months now, nena,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy. It’s only fair that I make you feel even a fraction of it.”
“Y-You’re an asshole,” you try to retort, but your voice comes out barely above a whisper, your tone more a helpless whine than any real protest.
He grins, mocking your pout with one of his own, voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Don’t say that, baby. You’re breakin’ my heart.” He brushes one last kiss against your lips, pulling back just as you lean into him, already aching to feel him close again, his warmth a cruel tease.
He undresses fully, and your mouth literally waters as your gaze traces the sculpted lines of his stomach, following the trail of hair that leads down to his thick, throbbing cock.
The head is swollen and red, already dripping with precome, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your lips, your hips shifting instinctively, every nerve ending primed and desperate for him. You’ve been dreaming about this moment for so long, craving it with every fiber of your being.
You need to fuck this man.
As he climbs back over you, his hands reach to pull you closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as if they belong there, your hands clutching at the solid warmth of his shoulders.
You pull him down to you, your bare breasts pressed to the hard plane of his chest, as he balances himself with both hands planted beside your head, his eyes burning into yours.
“You okay?” he asks, voice soft, and you nod, kissing the corner of his mouth before tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Mhm,” you breathe, staring up at him, completely wrecked and totally ready. “I’m just ready to take you, Javi. Need it so bad.”
He groans, the heat in his eyes darkening as he adjusts his hips, hovering right there, just out of reach. “Go ahead, baby, take it. Put it in.”
His words are like gasoline to a fire, and a shiver runs through you at the sheer, visceral need in his command.
Reaching down, your fingers wrap around his length, both of you gasping as you feel the heat and hardness of him pulsing in your hand. You squeeze gently, stroking him slowly, and he hisses, rolling his hips into your grip.
You swirl your thumb over the head, spreading the bead of precome across his skin, the silky-slick texture making you dizzy with anticipation.
Drunk on him, on everything he evokes in you, you guide the head of his cock to your soaked, swollen entrance, rubbing it slowly against your aching slit.
The sensation has you trembling, but when he finally pushes forward, easing himself into you, you let out a loud, breathless whine. The stretch of him is so perfect, so utterly fulfilling that your back arches, your toes curling as your head falls back into the sheets.
“Oh, fuck—Javier, you feel so good,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him, holding him deep as your body adjusts to every thick, pulsing inch. It’s even better than you ever imagined.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he thrusts forward, filling you to the hilt. “Nena,” he grunts, voice ragged, “I’m not gonna last—shit.” He sounds as wrecked as you feel, his hips pressing flush against yours as he sinks in deep, your inner walls gripping him as if you’ll never let him go.
“Please,” you whimper, grinding your hips up to meet him, urging him on. He sinks his teeth into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking until he’s left a mark, his mouth hot and relentless as he peppers kisses and bites along your throat.
He’s holding himself back, giving you a second to catch up, but every inch of you craves him.
“Give me, fuck, gimme a second,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and controlled, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss, your bodies locked together as he builds a rhythm, deeper and more intense with every movement.
Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in as he grinds just right, the coarse hairs of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit, making you babble helplessly against his parted lips, your own pleasure climbing higher with each thrust. “Right there, Javi, right there—I’m so close, please…”
He speeds up, his strokes hard and unrestrained, driving you to the edge. But even as he tries to keep his control, you feel him faltering, his body tensing as the pleasure becomes too much.
“Fuck—puta madre, nenita—you feel so good—” His voice breaks, and he gives one, two, three hard thrusts, burying himself deep as his release finally takes over, his warm, pulsing release spilling into you as he groans loudly, hips grinding as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm.
Your chest heaves with every breath, your body still humming with tension. As much as you’re flattered by his performance, you’re left tingling, unfinished, after all the edging and teasing he put you through.
“Javi…” You murmur softly, your hands sliding from his tousled hair down his shoulders, the heat radiating off his skin.
He responds with a low grunt, still draped over you, his weight grounding you.
“Javier,” you say again, a bit more insistently this time, and he lifts his head, eyes heavy and glazed, looking at you as if you’ve just broken him in the best way possible.
You’ve never seen him look this wrecked, his breath still uneven and his face flushed—all because of you. Fighting the urge to smirk, you can’t help but revel in the sight of him.
Men can be sensitive about finishing quickly, but he looks nothing but smug.
“Pussy’s too damn good, baby. Fuckin’ Christ,” he groans, a grin tugging at his lips, his words breathy and awed.
Now you let yourself smirk, feeling the flush of satisfaction. He nuzzles his nose against yours, murmuring, “Gotta make up for that.”
You raise a brow, intrigued. And then he’s moving, slowly pulling out of you, making you hum as the absence of him sends a small flutter through your sensitive cunt, his warm, milky cum trickling out and coating your thighs.
With determination in his gaze, he begins his descent, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your sternum, his breath a delicious tease against your skin until he’s nestled between your legs.
His broad shoulders press your thighs open, and then he throws them over his shoulders, eyes locked on yours, his look nothing short of ravenous.
Javi nips and kisses along your inner thighs, each bite and lick sending sparks straight to your core. When he finally reaches your swollen, aching pussy, his thumbs slide over your folds, parting them to reveal the slick mess he left behind.
Then, you feel the first swipe of his tongue, warm and slow, tasting you both. His groan is deep and low, the sound vibrating against you as he begins to devour you, licking and slurping at your mixed arousal with a hunger that’s overwhelming.
You can’t hold back—you’re too wound up, too sensitive, and you grab at his hair, your fingers twisting and tugging as your release crashes through you, every wave building on all the ones denied before.
You’re left gasping, body arched and taut, thighs clamping around his head as you scream his name, mindlessly babbling through the pleasure.
“Javi! Fuck—fuck, yes, oh god—”
He growls against you, mouth working as he drinks in every pulse, his tongue relentless as he wrings every last aftershock from your shaking body.
It’s beyond anything you’ve felt before, overwhelming and intense, leaving you utterly spent as you finally start to come down, your body melting beneath him, weak and utterly satisfied.
As he finishes devouring you between your thighs, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s thrusting into you again, harder and deeper this time, with a fierce intensity that rips a loud, shameless cry from you.
Right, he’s got that pornstar stamina.
His hands grip your hips, pulling you up with him as he sits up, his brows knitted in concentration, his tongue peeking out as he watches you completely unravel around him.
“That’s right, baby,” he growls, “Gonna give me one more on my cock, show me how bad you wanted it.”
You used to roll your eyes at the exaggerated moans you’d hear on set, doubting anyone could actually be that good.
But he is that good. Beyond that good. He’s better.
Now here you are, body trembling, head thrown back, moaning his name so loudly it might echo through the whole building. Every hard thrust feels like it’s driving into the core of you, filling you so perfectly that the room spins.
His grip tightens, hands splayed across your hips as he finds a rhythm that sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. The thick drag of his cock hits every spot, and he knows just how to read every gasp, every shudder, adjusting his pace and angle to push you higher and higher.
He pulls your legs up, folding them against your chest, his hips angled to grind against that one perfect spot that has stars dancing across your vision. You’re lost to him, mimicking those moans you used to scoff at, now higher and even more desperate as he laughs, deep and husky.
“Got you singin’ like a fuckin’ bird, nenita,” he teases, his laugh tapering off into a low groan. “And to think you didn’t want this. Now look at you—all fucked out and creamin’ on my cock”
Your bed creaks with every hard thrust, the scent of sex thick in the air, but all you can focus on is him—his rough hands, the way he looks down at you, utterly in control.
He’s all you can feel, all you can breathe, and as he digs his nails into the plush skin of your thighs, you know you’re on the edge, your pussy clenching tightly around him.
Your gaze meets his, and somehow you manage a blissful, shaky smile, a small act of defiance just before he pushes you over.
“There she is,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on, baby—let me feel it.”
“Javi… oh my fuck, I’m coming!” The words are a gasp, strangled and desperate, as your body locks around him, your orgasm crashing through you in waves that leave you breathless, gushing around his cock as every muscle in your body clenches tight.
It feels like you’ve drifted to the heavens, like he’s drawn out every last ounce of strength from you.
You’re dazed, floating, but he’s still there, whispering to you, “Good girl, that’s it. I’ve got you,” his voice a warm balm as he slows his movements, matching the rhythm of your aftershocks, soothing you with each gentle thrust as he holds you close.
Your body shudders, tiny jolts of overstimulation sparking through you as he stays with you, coaxing you back down from the edge, until you’re nothing but a soft, sated mess in his arms.
He gently eases your legs down, pulling out of you with a slow, tender touch before settling by your side.
His arms wrap around you, drawing you in close as you both lie there, utterly spent, skin warm and sticky from sweat and the lingering traces of your wild fucking.
His lips press a soft kiss to your forehead, and you let out a contented sigh, burrowing into his chest. You crave the solid weight of his body, the grounding warmth of him as you slowly come back to reality.
“You’re not real,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled but laced with awe. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, a low, comforting sound that makes you smile even wider.
“I’m very real, and very yours, nena,” Javi replies, his hand drifting lazily up and down your back in gentle strokes that make you melt even further. The warmth of his words seeps into you, and your heart flutters.
You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest, and take a moment to really admire him: the deep brown of his eyes, the dark sweep of his lashes, the fullness of his mustache, and that defined jaw you love tracing your fingers along.
Your hands wander, tracing faint shapes on his shoulders, running over the hard lines of his triceps, relishing the feel of him beneath your fingers.
“I need a shower. And to change these sheets,” you murmur, glancing around at the disheveled bed.
“Yeah, someone made quite the mess,” he teases, pinching your ass, which makes you yelp and swat his chest with a playful smack.
“Asshole,” you grumble, but he just laughs, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that’s softer, and you melt into him all over again.
“I’ll go start the shower for you, then change the sheets while you’re in there.”
“Catering to my every whim already? I just became your girlfriend,” you tease.
“Yeah, and I’m trying to keep it that way for the foreseeable future,” he says, brushing a quick, sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before slipping away from you.
You can’t help the little pout that forms as he sits up, rolling his shoulders back, his muscles jolting, which makes you weak in the knees.
You watch him as he moves throughout your room then into your bathroom, your eyes trailing over every muscle, every line of his body, unable to resist biting your lip.
He really is gorgeous—so damn hot—and he’s all yours.
🏷️ : @almostempty . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .
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↳ you know you’re better than this.
featuring — anya x gn! reader (mouthwashing)
no, i don’t write for mouthwashing, there’s just not any anya content.
cw: dark themes, mentions of sexual abuse, abuse, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting, blood, implications of suicide, character deaths, controlling behavior, triggering themes, angst, panic attack, reader is fresh out of medical school, barely hurt and comfort
6 weeks before the crash.
“ guess who~? “
you croon, playfully hovering your hands over the onyx haired woman’s eyes as you snuck up behind her in the med room. anya was standing in front of the sink, quietly washing her hands. a soft giggle rolls off her smiling lips, body language relaxed,
“ hmm, daisuke?”
you snicker, “ i didn’t know i was a silly boy.”
anya hums thoughtfully while the faucet still runs and her hands soaking wet. “ captain? “
“ yes it is i, the big softie blond with curls! “ you proclaimed, goofily deepening your voice to make the voice of the captain, curly. if curly was here, he definitely would of made fun of your half-baked impression of him. anya lets out a bubbly laugh that makes the corner of your lips curl upwards even more. you fight the urge to hug her from behind and squeeze her silly from how wondrous she is. to think you get to be on a space trip with the woman you love and admire deeply makes you wanna float through the endlessly sea of stars and wonder.
“ now that I guessed you right, can i finish washing my hands and greet my lover properly? “ anya asks in a jovial tone.
“ mhmm~ “ you removed your hands away from her eyes and backed off so she can finish washing her hands. it takes a few moments for anya to finish. she turns the faucet off, grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, and wipes her hands off. after throwing the crumbled paper towel in the small bin, she turns around to finally face you. despite her hues resembling a gloomy grey, they brighten as they drink you in. anya immediately seeks for you, wrapping her arms around your frame and gently brushes up against you. you gladly reciprocate the loving gesture, running a delicate up her back and let it rest on her upper back.
“ so, how’s evaluations going three months in? “ you asked, pressing a quick kiss to her brow, “ has the others evaluations been okay? no crazy confessions yet right? “ you inquired with a teasing voice. anya is far experienced in psychology than you are so you leave the evaluations to her. and because anya’s more outgoing and hands-on, you felt like anya’s more capable of taking on medic role. you were luckily squeezed on this ship as a last minute intern similar to daisuke for the experience. six people on a four-man ship is so far quite the experience. you try not to get in the way of the others and besides anya, you mostly interact with curly and daisuke.
anya pauses, recalling her memories from the monthly evaluations.
“ hm. .—oh! daisuke. .a very bright and funny boy that really puts himself out there. he inspires me to be more optimistic. ugh, he’s also disgustingly lucky when it comes to those board games we play. “ her lips ball up in a cute pout, you laugh, “
“ stop saying he’s lucky, anya. you’re just being a sore loser. just accept that he’s better than you at board games! “
anya playfully rolls her eyes, “ oh hush. don’t tell me you’re on his side. “
you smirked, “ i’m on your side, beautiful—buttt i’m still gonna hand you the truth. lovingly. “
anya tells you about the other three evaluations, curly, swansea, and jimmy. her voice is light-hearted when she talks about curly. she describes him as being kind but a bit reserved. he never talks much about himself. everyone has their own story and perhaps even some like him chooses to not tell his as it’s locked away behind the fleshy walls of his bleeding heart. when anya got to swansea, her tone is the same but it’s dampens a bit; melancholic. she describes the crude mechanic as a man who’s been through a lot in life and still lives on despite his struggles. despite how rough he acts, there’s something about him that makes you feel sorry for him. there’s a sort of loneliness that clings to him like the fresh scent of dry balls after drying your clothes in a dryer. however, you can tell that daisuke’s light is smearing onto the much older man’s demeanor. he’s a little more livelier, although very rough on the edges—swansea expresses his care for daisuke in a tough love kinda way.
when anya finally gets to the gruff brunette man, the atmosphere shifts. her words holds a certain weight to them that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. her voice is meek and reluctant as she talks about his recent evaluation. you pick up on anya’s careful wording and brief pauses during it. she rests her cheek against your shoulder, holding you visibly tighter as if she’s trying to ground herself through you. anya says that he doesn’t really take his evaluation seriously and makes particularly sarcastic comments at her. great. you don’t like jimmy because there’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. was it that permanent mean look on his face? that judgmental look in his hooded, brown eyes whenever he passes by you in the hallways? what could have you possibly done to him to make him look at you like that? you don’t really talk to him and care more for curly. he is the leader and main pilot after all.
“ . .if he’s making you uncomfortable, i can do his evaluations for you. psychological evaluations require a one on one session and i can do it while you’re outside of the door.” you mutter, rubbing loose circles into anya’s back.
your lover stays silent for a moment. “ . . .no, i can handle it. but, you standing behind the door instead puts me a little more at ease though, haha. “
“ of course. anya, look at me. “ and she does, pulling her head away to peer at you with those pretty, upturned eyes of hers. a tender palm cups her cheek. anya’s skin feels warm and soft to the touch. “ if anything happens, you’ll tell me right? i may only be the intern but i will absolutely raise hell for you. “
anya smiles at you warmly at you, grayish eyes twinkling with endearment. she leans in and kisses your lips. “ i prefer that you not to because i’d hate for you to get booted into space by the crew. “ she remarks jokingly in between brief kisses.
“ hmm. “ you bring your lips to the bridge of her nose, under the tender flesh of her eye, everywhere until she’s a smiling mess. “ we’ll have to see about that. “
5 weeks before the crash.
restless, you exhale as you blankly stare at the white ceiling. due to anya’s head laying on your chest and her body nuzzled against your side, you can hardly change positions or get up, really. you don’t want to wake her up either.
“ can’t sleep? “ she whispers out gently, her hand that was intertwined with yours, lightly squeezed.
“ mmm, not really. did i wake you up with my defeated sighs, anya? “
“ . . kinda. but i’m use to this by now since this is a habit you like to do when you can’t sleep, (name).”you can hear the fond smile in her voice. after two years of dating, anya’s able to read and soak up your habits. she’s so attentive to your mannerisms, knows when you’re apprehensive by the twitching of your fingers and eyes. she knows when you’re happy, sad—it’s quite ridiculous how could someone so knowledgeable like her is struggling to get accepted to med school several times while it only took you once to get in. you’re not a registered nurse prior to getting into med school or anything like that. yes, you worked really hard—but lets admit it; you were just simply lucky to get in. lucky and currently hundred thousand dollars in debt after finishing.
“ i’ll let you sleep. i think i will just sneak into med bay to finish reading the social animal. i wanna be good at psychology as my awesome, future wife is.” you asked, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple.
anya laughs sleepily, “ oh, stop it. you’re not going to fall asleep in there, are you? “
“ of course not! i’ll come back to you once i’m feeling tired. but, if you miss me or have a nightmare, you know where to find me~ “
she removes her head off your chest and breaks away from you with a soft pout. “ i suppose so. “
you get up from the bed and dipped down to kiss the tip of her pretty roman nose. “ buh bye for now, beautiful. ” you coo, adjusting the blanket back over her body.
“ see you, hun. “
you slip on your slippers and walked out of your shared cabin. besides the sound of the low humming noise of the ship, silence fills the void of the still atmosphere. it’s surprisingly chilly as you exit the sleeping quarters and walk through the narrow-like hallways to medical. your footsteps softly bounces throughout the metal walls and your distorted shadow follows behinds you. there’s a churning feeling in your gut as you walk and walk. was it really okay to skip off to medical at the middle of “night” just to read? wouldn’t it have suffice to simply stay and talk to anya until you were able to fall asleep?
your eye twitch and your fingers curl ever so slightly.
should you just go back to her?
“ hey, you’re still “up.”
a rough voice calls out, ripping you away from your thoughts. you stop walking. your eyes wander over to the source and a shiver runs down your spine. jimmy, still in his jumpsuit, stands by the hallway leading to the cockpit. there’s a sense of uneasiness in the air as his quiet gaze lingers on you, waiting for your response.
“ yeah, can’t sleep. “ you say in a deadpan voice, “ what about you? “
jimmy runs his fingers through his tousled chocolate locks before shrugging. “ same as you. but i’m just taking a aimless stroll. where you headin’ to? “
none of your business.
“ medical. “
there’s something in his eyes that visibly changes; a taunting glint that has you side-eyeing him. a corner of his thin lips curl into a subtle, smug smirk.
“ you’re a little ways to go, dr. intern. “
you roll your eyes and start walking pass him, “ i know. at least i know where to go, mr. co pilot. “
jimmy clicks his tongue behind you, muttering something under his breath before his footsteps become distant in your ears. you turn your head, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder. you see his tall silhouette walking down the direction towards the sleeping quarters. “ smug fuck, i hope you sleep like shit tonight. “ you murmur, trying your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your tummy.
with a tired sigh, you slumped in the chair, turning one of many pages you gone through. the ticking clock in the background occasionally hits your ears as your fingers lazily drum against the pristine white surface of the desk. your droopy (e/c) eyes skim across a quote that leaves the remainder of your conscious mind wondering.
reason and emotion are not separate and opposed. reason is nestled upon emotion and dependent upon it. emotion assigns value to things, and reason can only make choices on the basis of those valuations. the human mind can be pragmatic because deep down it is romantic.
“is it wrong to use only reasoning to make a decision devoid of emotion . .? or is it actually wrong to let your emotions influence your decisions and reasoning? ” you sleepily muse to yourself.
oh, being human is so complicated.
your head perk up at the medbay door sliding open. surprise is written all over your face once you see a seemingly shaken up anya walking inside. her arms are tucked to her chest, hands clutching her elbows.“ anya? it’s only been. .two hours? you had a nightmare already? “ you asked worriedly, standing up from the desk to make your way over to her.
“ i. .y-yes, it was t-terrible. .” anya whispers in a quivering voice. her head is down, avoiding eye contact. you try to grasp her elbow and lure her into your arms but she violently flinches from your touch.
pulling away quickly, your face contorts into a look of worry. “ baby? “
teary-eyed, anya quickly lifts up her head, mustering a shaky smile. “ oh dear, i-i’m sorry. i-i’m just still quite shaken up from the nightmare, h-haha. i need a minute or so to recoup myself. can i stay here with you? “ anya sometimes get nightmares but it was only due to stress. she never had a nightmare that got her like this.
“ . .of course. you don’t even have to ask. here, you can sit on one of those beds. “ carefully, you ghost your hand over the small of her back as you guide her to a bed. she quietly sits down with a soft sniffle and you follow suit. your heart squeezes at the sound of her soft hiccups and the sight of her head down. you can hardly see her face due to her saber strands hanging down. “ can. .is it safe for me to have my arm around you? “
she meekly bobs her head and you delicately curl an arm around her, taking note of her body momentarily stiffening up before gradually relaxing. “ do you want to talk about your nightmare? “
it takes her a moment to reply. “ . . no. i don’t really remember much of it now anyways. “
you frown, leaving it at that despite wanting to push for more. anya always remember her nightmares. there’s something that’s eating away at your gut and it’s making you anxious. you gnaw at your lip and your eyes twitch. you should be focusing on her. whatever you’re feeling right now is the result of your overthinking. you should trust her. it was just a rare, horrible nightmare that gotten her like this.
things can happen unexpectedly without an explanation.
perhaps you shouldn’t push for an answer and leave it alone?
1 week before the crash.
“ hah! i win! in your face! “ daisuke laughs in triumphant, placing his pink piece over on the next move that solidifies his victory. anya groans loudly next to you, crossing her arms and pouts like a kid who gotten their toy taken away. “ this is unbelievable! i almost had it! “
you laughed, “ better luck next time, anya. it seems like the kid has a brighter future than you when it comes to board games! “
ever since that night, anya’s been uncharacteristically a little distant and jumpy. she’d always seek for your touch. but now, she seems reluctant to touch you first. whenever you try to show anya any kind of affection, it takes her a moment to reciprocate. you can’t really surprise her now or she’ll get visibly startled. anya has trouble sleeping and wakes up from the any sound or movement so you have to be still. for the past four weeks, you tried to ask her about her abnormal behavior, and she’d tell you vague reasons like, “ i just haven’t been feeling well. “ or “ that nightmare got to me more than i thought, i’m sorry. “
you’re worried about her—even her smiles are dampened with a sliver of sadness behind them. you really want to help but you don’t know how. it feels like she’s slowly putting a wall between you, her, and her true feelings. at least right now she’s like her old self again. you’re glad.
“ hey guys. having fun in here, huh? “ curly and jimmy walks inside the lounge. the blond waves at the three of you with a welcoming smile while jimmy awkwardly stood behind him.
“ yeah! i was able to beat anya this time! isn’t that right, anya? “
“ mhm, but as usual, it was luck. “ anya says softly, her voice lacking the enthusiasm as it did before. she tucks her arms into her chest. you flash her a look of concern. there it is again, the churning feeling in your belly. why did her mood sour like that? was it because of curly and jimmy’s arrival? your eyes travel back to the two men, quietly observing them. curly ruffles daisuke’s hair as he stood behind the couch daisuke is sitting on. he’s completely focused on talking to daisuke. your gaze transition over to jimmy and his eyes meet with yours.
that same glint he had in his eyes a few weeks ago, has you feeling more than uneasy. then, your mind suddenly flashes back to the subtle smirk he had and him walking back to the direction of the sleeping quarters. not too long after him going over there and you lounging in medbay, anya joins you, trembling and barely wanting you to touch her. you thought about her saying it was a bad nightmare and didn’t remember enough to tell you the details of it. like what you thought about before, anya always remembers her nightmares and only gets them due to stress.
the horrible realization starts to sink in and your heart drops to the very pits of your stomach. it drowns in a sea of dread.
oh god, did he go to her while you were. . .?
you feel sick. why did you ignore that gut feeling in your stomach during your walk to medbay back then? why didn’t you stay with anya? why did you just figure this out now?
you stand up unexpectedly, startling everyone.
“ (name)? what’s the matter? “ anya asks with clear worry. throat dry, you gathered up the strength to cast her a assuring smile that doesn’t reach your eyes in which she notices right away.
“ i. .i need to go to the restroom. i’ll be back everyone. . “
you quickly slide the bathroom door behind you. unable to hold your own weight anymore, you fall to your knees. there’s a suffocating feeling in your chest that’s causing your breathing to become uneven. your mind races back to the evaluations and how uncomfortable anya looked every time she had to do jimmy’s. yes, you stood behind the door to provide her some “security” in the recent weekly evaluations, but god, you actually let her be in the same room alone with this man? her assaulter? you did basically nothing but blindly trusted her words and ignored your intuition.
maybe anya didn’t want to tell you because she knew that you’d make a big uproar out of it, thus making the situation possibly even worse?
or maybe she was afraid you’d look at her differently?
. . .or maybe jim threatened her to not tell the crew?
t r u s t
she kept this in all this time and gave these inconsistent reasons that you knew was out of character for her to make up. . and yet. .you ignored the obvious signals and trusted her anyway. all you had to do was listen to your gut feeling and sit down with her to talk. all you had to say was that you were there for her and you’ll listen to anything she has to say if she wants to talk. you’d do anything for her—anything. even if it meant the cost of your internship which matters practically nothing to you. it’s not like the company was worth shit anyways. what fucking company doesn’t implement locks on doors in rooms where their own employees sleep in? what company just allows someone like him in?
tears bubble in your eyes as you grit your teeth, seething in frustration. you bite down on your bottom until the thin layer skin easily rips and starts to bleed. you bawl your hands into tight fists, nails dig into your palm until moon crescents dig into the flesh. you’re so horrible.
you feel so sick.
this is what she must of felt but much much worse.
you can’t even imagine how she had to process what happened all alone in the dark and walk through the long corridors in dead silence just to get to medbay, to you. you can’t imagine how it feels to hide something so traumatic from everyone while gathering up your broken shards of identity in silence. you don’t blame her—you can never blame her from hiding what happened between her and jimmy. you can only blame yourself for being ignorant and not fully realizing how dangerous he truly is.
your stomach turns upside down and you feel the sudden need to vomit. you scrambled over to the toilet and puke your guts out. series of fat tears roll down your cheeks.
“ ugh. .” you coughed hoarsely, hunched over.
you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick—
a few firm knocks on the bathroom door made you freeze.
anya’s concerned voice calls out behind the bathroom door. “ (name), are you alright? are you feeling well? “
you couldn’t even respond properly without hacking which gave yourself away immediately. alerted by your excessive coughing, she successfully slides the door open and rushes inside to your aid.
you never locked the door behind you, did you?
“ i’m here, (name). please, let it all out. “ anya rubs your back soothingly, not bothered by the drool and vomit spilling from your lips. you feel embarrassed under the worried, gentle gaze of anya. she whispers comforting words as you finishing vomiting. she grabs some paper towels and silently offers to wipe your face. you shake your head and gingerly take the towels from her hands and do it yourself.
anya opens her mouth to speak but you interrupt her.
“ it’s funny, “ you half laughed and sobbed, “ how you were able to come in so quickly just as i realized the door wasn’t locked. “
anya’s eyes widen with shock and looks as if she was about to burst into tears.
1 month after the crash.
“ anya, sweetheart? “ you gently call out to her before resting a hand on anya’s shoulder as stood by the sink, soaking curly’s bandages with soap and water. the fresh bandages are slowly starting to run out because of curly’s nonstop bleeding. you and anya both agreed to clean and reuse the bandages after one use to maintain the supply.
she still slightly jumps and turns her head around with a soft smile. “a-ah! s-sorry, (name). what’s wrong? “
“ let me clean the bandages and give captain his meds. you’ve been standing there for the past forty minutes. sit out in the lounge, okay? after watching you the first few times, i know what to do. “
a look of uncertainty dwells on her face as she ponders over your words. gingerly, you place a hand over her stomach. “ please, anya? i’ve seen how uncomfortable you look when you do this for him, you don’t have to hide it from me because i’m your lover. we’ve talked about this. i’ll do anything i can to shoulder your burden and make sure that you’re not pushing your body. “
anya’s grey hues flicker with appreciation and a twinge of guilt. “ okay, i’ll go sit down. if you need me, please holler out. i-i hate to make you do this after—“
“ anya. “ you interrupt her, reaching out to cradle her pale cheeks. they feel warm under your palms. your gaze pools into her own. “ anything. “ you whisper, resting your forehead against hers. anya’s lips pursue in a thin line. you know she wants to object but she swallows her words without anything to wash it down with, leaving behind a bitter taste. you lift your chin to press a lingering kiss to anya’s forehead.
tentatively, anya walks out of the medical, leaving you and a shell of a man in the room alone. a deep sigh runs past your lips and you go over to the half–foamed up desk to quietly grab a bottle of pain meds. “ captain. “ you mutter, walking over to the bed where he permanently lays. what a pitiful sight to witness. curly resembles a meat bag, his limbs left horribly mutated and amputated, his once tan skin is now all gone and long burned off. he’s stripped from his protection and only his vulnerable muscles are exposed. his only eye, wide and blue, stares up at you. you stare back blankly. through a singular sea of blue, you see a mass of fear, pain, and most of all, regret.
“ i don’t hate you, captain, “ you pop the bottle open. “ i’m sure anya doesn’t either. well, anya wouldn’t bring herself to hate you even if she wanted to anyways. “
he doesn’t respond but his permanent wide–eyed gaze continues to stare you down.
“ i’ll give you 5mg of oxycodone before i do your bandages. i’ll give you your second dose afterwards.”
you shake out two pills from the bottle. “ . . .all of this isn’t really your fault. misguided karma can be cruel. however, “ you slowly opened his jaw, the slimy sound of his muscles moving against each other makes you cringe. you see why anya can get more nauseated off of this. “ misplaced trust in a bitter person who’s undeserving of trust in the first place is what gets someone like you in a position like this. “
you hold his jaw, his exposed, irritated muscles twitch erratically against your protective layer of skin. your stomach swirls with a sinking feeling. curly starts to breath heavily, his pupil dilates. you hold one pill between your index finger and thumb. hot tears prickle at the corner of your twitching eyes as a shaky grin stretches across your face, and a bead of sweat rolls down your brow. you feel sick to the utter depths of your stomach.
“ don’t struggle , yeah? “
this wasn’t your worst moment right , curly?
0 days before the crash.
“ curly, fuck, where did he walk away to? “ you stopped curly in the middle corridors, pulling him back by his broad shoulder with a firm hand. curly, who’s face is full of panic and confusion, frantically responds back. “ i-i don’t know but i’m going to go find him to try and talk—“
“ i-i’m sorry, talk? this goes beyond talking at this fucking point! that fucking dog assaulted anya and she’s pregnant! “ you spat, heart full of frustration, “ do you think talking to her assaulter is going to fix shit? do you think doing the bare minimum is going to take back what she went through?! “
he runs a trembling hand through his blond curls. “ i-i understand but—fuck, let me just try—and—and, “
your hand drops to your side and you send him a look of utter disappointment. “ un—fucking—believable. how many times did anya tell you about jimmy? did you know about his shitty behavior even before she got pregnant? assaulted? she doesn’t want to tell me the answer so i’m fucking asking you! “
he stays slient, the guilty expression dawning on his face says it all.
“ . .what a great leader you are, captain. “ you growled, “ allowing that shitty friend of yours to ride this ship and you do barely nothing until the situation blows up in your face. this is what happens when you let your personal emotions dilute your judgment and reason as a leader. this is the outcome. the crew is my responsibility, my ass. if i had it my way, i would of shoved his ass in the cryo pod the second i’ve found out. but alas, i’m not the fucking leader but a damn intern. i held it allll in for a week for this shit? just imagine how anya felt to endure the awful trauma longer than that only for you, the captain, the only person with power, to handle it so horribly. fool.”you turn your heels and stomping back to medical for anya.
4 months after the crash.
“ daisuke. . kiddo, “ you gently call out to him as you find him somberly laying on his back next to the area leading to the cargo. his forearm rests over his eyes.
“ you okay? “
“ no, not really. .it’s just. .i wonder what my mother thinks right now. .she’s probably thinking i’m finally putting my feet into the water, finally learning and figuring out what i should to do in life during this internship. .meanwhile i’m on my back getting wasted off of. .mouthwash. ”
you sit down next to him. you thought about what to say for a prolonged moment before asking him,
“ before all of this, did you enjoy the internship? “
“ i. . .i did. .i was having fun . .with swansea, anya, you, a-and . . “
daisuke lets out a soft sniffle, you just smile solemnly.
“ don’t cry, sunshine. as long as you enjoyed yourself, that’s all that matters. even in the predicament we’re in now. .let’s have hope. once all of this is over, your mother will be proud that you got through this internship and you should tell her allll about what you did and learned with the ol’ man swansea. that man is a hot mess but i know he enjoys you as his intern.”
“ . . .really? “ he meekly asks, peeking at you from under his forearm with teary eyes. god, daisuke looks like a sad puppy.
“ of course, kiddo. “ you force out a happy laugh to appease him. you hate to lie to him but as long as jimmy is attempting to play captain, the situation will continue to spiral down into the abyss. you know with absolute certainty that jimmy was the one who caused the ship to crash. the fact that man pinned the blame on his close friend, who was trying to see good in him, for crashing the ship is beyond disgusting. judging from curly’s recent evaluation from anya before the crash, he did seem a little melancholic. but, for him to drastically make a reckless decision to sabotage the ship and everyone in it? he wouldn’t do that even if it was on his mind. jimmy on the other hand. .
“ oh. .it seems like you beat me to him. is he alright?”anya’s relieved voice rings in your ears. you draw your attention over to your partner who’s walking down the corridor towards you and daisuke. she uncrosses her arms that was once tucked to her chest and you raise a brow.
“ yeah, just a little sad but i was talking to him. how’d you know he was here? “
her gaze averts to the ground and you jump up, anger bubbles in your chest. “ jimmy, wasn’t it? what did he do? he didn’t hurt or yell at you or anything, did he? “
you pace over to her and rest your hands on her shoulders. “ no, no—seriously, i’m okay. . he sent me here to check on daisuke while he took care of some things. i was just surprised you were here. “ it had to be more then that.
sighing heavily, you turn back to daisuke who was now attempting to get back on his feet. “ daisuke, be careful. .has swansea been making you drink that mouthwash stuff again with him? “ you questioned skeptically, walking over to him to assist him back on his feet. wobbling, the brunette boy softly groans as you let him rest his arm loosely around your shoulders for support.
“. .no. .yeah. . i. .may. .kinda, totally have went overboard with it this time. b-but i gave it to jimmy because i didn’t wanna mess with it anymore. “
aggravated, you smack your teeth, “ so you’re saying that he saw you like that and didn’t even bother to help you up himself and sends anya down here instead? i’m so sick of his shit! some fuckin’ wannabe captain he is! you could of threw up and choked on your own damn vomit! that careless fucker knew that! “
“ you’re starting to sound like swansea. “ daisuke mutters through his drunken haze.
anya speaks up in a soft voice that’s mean to calm you. “ (name), you have to calm down. i understand that you’re upset. .but we need to rest daisuke down somewhere in the lounge. “
your eye twitch and your lips purse. she was right. plus, you don’t want daisuke to hear all of this while he’s struggling with his own inner conflicts. even the effects of the dire situation is dawning down on him and taking a toll on his mental health.
but fuck, you’re tired of being quiet.
d o s o m e t h i n g
? ? ¿ ! months before the ????
you can’t sleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips. anya’s body lightly stirs besides you. you don’t want to leave her but it’d be right to check up on curly to see if he needs his meds. there’s no time clock but curly’s groaning and restlessness indicates you that it’s time for his painkillers. if he is in pain, you’ll just give him his meds and come back to anya. it’s been a straight shot to the medical room ever since the crash. the foam has completely fucked up the sleeping quarters. . maybe it’s for the better or worse now. everyone is bunched together in the lounge room with extra sleeping beds from the medical. luckily, there hasn’t been any problems amongst the crew and it’s easier to keep in eye on jimmy.
“ anya, “ you whispered out to her. she lays on her left side, facing you. pieces of her shaggy hair prettily hovers over her tired eyes as they fluttered open. “ yeah? “ she responds back, you send her a small smile, reaching out to brush the strands away from her face.
“ i’m going to go check up on captain in the medical. i’ll. .be back, okay? if this dumb thing goes off, “ you gesture to the broken robot standing an inch away from you and anya’s sleeping bags. thankfully it’s able to go off, albeit broken thanks to jimmy. originally, anya suggested the idea and you couldn’t agree more with it.
“ i’ll be running to you so fast like how i did after i found out that passed my final exams. “ you whispered playfully.
recalling the joyful memory, a soft giggle leaves anya’s lips. she remembered you were so anxious and restless over the final exams that she kept having to pinch you and make you run with her to get your mind off of things. once you found out that you passed med school, you ran so fast to anya while she was waiting outside of the campus for you and nearly ran her over. she nods with a beautiful smile that you missed so much. anya was always a carefree woman who was willing to go through hardships with a cool–mind and solutions. but, after this overhaul trip going downhill and the terrible shit that’s happened and is currently happening—the light in her eyes is duller. it mirrors her reserved and almost timid-like behavior now.
that’s not who anya is—that’s not her and that’s not who she should by the damages of a terrible, insecure man who refuses to swallow down his own ever-growing problems like a hard pill and take responsibility for his self-sabotaging actions. you bet he’d choke on himself and self-destruct if he ever tried swallowing. all he ever does is vomit and project himself onto others.
“ okay. we can also clean his bandages after we’ve rested. “ anya suggests.
you shake your head, ghosting a hand over her belly. the bump has slowly been getting bigger but isn’t very noticeable to others. “ there’s no we, just me. the last time you got nauseated, you asked jimmy to give curly his meds while i was busy with daisuke and. .he. .” you trailed off and sighed with frustration. you still can’t get over anya telling you the truth about jimmy getting frustrated at her for asking him to give curly his meds because of her nausea.
absolutely horrible.
before anya can say anything, you give her a quick kiss on the forehead.
“ i’ll be back this time. “
you got up carefully to not alert the broken robot and paced towards medical. as you did, you glanced around the lounge to see who’s in their respective sleeping bags.
daisuke is laid out asleep.
swansea has been sleeping by the utility and now you know why he was does. you don’t have any objections to it. it’s only fair for the sunshine to be preserved.
jimmy is no where to be found. cockpit, maybe?
as you near the medical, alarming sounds of struggling and curly’s groans made your heart drop. frantically, you sprinted towards the door and slammed it open.
s e c o n d c h a n c e
s e c o n d c h a n c e
“ wh-what the fuck are you doing, jimmy?! g-get off of him! “ her
you ran over to the self-proclaimed captain who was hunching over the defenseless curly, shoving pills into his mouth and down his throat while beating at his stomach. with all of your strength, you shoved jimmy backwards, pulling him away from curly’s mutilated body, who helplessly laid there in the bloodied medical bed, crying and groaning in pain.
“ are you out of your fucking mind, you crazy fuck?!”you screamed at him while he has this mixed, horrid look of panic and frustration on his unshaven face. the pill bottle clutched in his hand made a loud rattling noise as he drops them on the tile floor and it rolls next to you.
“ i-i— h-he was. .m-making too much n-n—oomph! “
thanks to your adrenaline, you shoved him—hard, causing him to stumble back against the desk. pill bottles tumble and crash onto the floor.
hurried footsteps approach the medical from the loud crashes and yelling.
“ so your fucking solution was to beat up that poor man who can’t even goddamn defend himself now? let me fucking remind you since you’re too busy trying to play captain and can’t take responsibility! that man is laying there, the way he is now, because of—ugh! “
in a burst fit of blind rage, he returns the favor and presses his heavy palms against your chest, harshly shoving you backwards. you try to maintain your balance, but your foot accidentally steps on one of the pill bottles, and you fall backwards onto the solid floor, hitting your head. hard.
crack!
you almost instantly black out. not before hearing a loud gasp and anya’s frantic shouting.
“ (name)! j-jimmy. . . at . .did. . .u do?! “
¿!!! ?????????
just me and you vs the world, anya.
“ seriously? this show is so horrible, anya! even my dad who has terrible taste in tv shows, can’t watch this! “ you groaned exaggeratedly, sinking your cheek into your palm, slouching on the elbow of the couch. anya shrugs with a smug smile, placing the tv remote down on the coffee table.
“ well that’s tooo bad, hun. i need to binge this show to clear my mind out completely. all i need is my go-to-combo i usually get from wendy’s. “
you roll your eyes, “ it could of been at least mcdonald’s or something. but. .wendy’s? “
“ they have the best frosties! don’t act you dislike it because they messed up your order once. “ she giggles, leaning over to playfully hit at your ankle.
the show starts and you can barely stomach it. you don’t understand how she zeros out her mind from watching this stuff. it’s so cheesy and bad.
you peer over at anya and just as expected, she’s watching it like she’s into it. anya’s sitting up against the couch, legs crossed while she’s wearing a oversized t-shirt and pajamas. her heap of black shaggy hair that reaches just below her shoulders, was beautifully messy. usually at night, she doesn’t really bother with it. her fair skin shines pretty under the tv light. her pretty lashes fluttering and downturned eyes glistening with interest as she watch the corny reality tv show—god, she’s so breathtaking.
“ so, anya. “ you speak up as soon as the tv cuts to commercials. her undivided attention draws over to you and you cast her a goofy, suggestive smile.
“ while this commercial runs, wanna makeout? “
she blinks at you several times as if to process your question and bursts out laughing.
“ ewwww! “
“ ewwww? what the hell, baby! c’meree. “ you get off the elbow of the couch to playfully grab and pull at the laughing anya’s arm to pull her closer.
“ we’re not some bored teenager couple, you know! “
you successfully pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her body. “ feels like we are when i’m with youu~ “ you coo, puckering your lips at her with teasing intent.
anya blocks your lips with her palm and you immediately lick at it. she gasps and retracts her hand away, allowing you the opportunity to topple her over and kiss all over her pretty face and pouty lips.
“ hehe, (name)! “
once you’re done with your barrage, you bury your face into her neck.
“ marry me once me and you become doctors, anya~ ” you croon, melting into her body.
there’s a momentary pause before her smiling voice responds to you, full of adoration,
“ of course. i wouldn’t have it any other way, (name).”
??? ??¿ is it finally over ??¿!
your eyes peel open, a surge of sharp pain and confusion shoots through your body like a needle. but, once your gaze immediately locks onto the woman you love above you, your heart calms a little. she doesn’t notice that you’re now awake and stares off into somewhere with brooding eyes.
“ a-anya? “
anya’s eyes widen and she snaps her gaze down at you in surprise as your head is currently laid on her lap. tears swell in the corner of her reddened eyes.
“ y-you’re awake again! i-i thought you were finally. .”
despite not being able to move your body from the waist under and through the pain pounding in your head, you smile weakly at her.
“ f-finally what? i-i told you i’ll come back to you. although. . .“ your eyes search the dim setting around you. it’s blurred and bright. it seems like you and anya are in the medical? didn’t you come back from medical after checking up on curly?
c o n f u s i o n
“ why aren’t we in bed? we’re in medical right now. . “
anya’s lips trembles as she struggles to not cry.
“ we’ve decided to rest in here and talk like we’re a bored teenage couple. “
you let out a weak laugh. “ r-really? my br-brain is all over the place right now. everything is starting to feel and look fuzzy. “
your eyes starts to dilate and unfocus but they never leave anya. she says nothing, and quietly caresses your cheek.
your skin has become more discolored while you were unconscious.
how many hours?
how many hours has it been since she locked herself with you and captain? and how many times has her thoughts endlessly ponder and ponder over jimmy’s words he once said to her months back?
t a k e c a r e o f i t
“ a-anya. .? “
anya forces out a smile. her quivering fingers brush away the sweaty hair sticking to your forehead.
my hands are s h a k i n g.
“ . .y-yes? “ anya can barely contain the heartbreak in her voice.
“ w-we’ll take of it together. “ you slurred, “ o-once i get my l-license, i’ll support us and you don’t need to w-worry about a thing. o-once the baby is born, i’ll take care of them while you st-study to get into medical school again. i-i’ll. .even help you. .too. i st-still have my. .notes. “
dark red liquid seeps down your nose. she sees the light becoming dull in your dilated (e/c) hues that she adored so much.
the external bleeding and swelling in your head is pulling you under.
a quiet sob slips from her throat and she gently brings your head up to her chest. her body shudders as she weeps.
there’s a few broken whimpers that sounds far too strangled to be hers or yours.
“ . . d-don’t cry, an. .ya, i. .i’m just g-gonna sleep. y. .you holding. .me like this. .makes me feel at ease. .i. .can finally sleep. .without. .leaving. .ou. .”
your eyes vanish behind discolored eyelids and your head slack against her.
and there’s a gaping hole akin to a black hole that swallows everything that bounded her down, her dreams, her hopes, her love, her fear, her emotions.
what’s left is reason—a reason to the best decision that anya alone can finally act.
with a strangely calm mind and red-rimmed solemn grey eyes, she glances up at the few bottles of pills now left on the desk.
you know you’re better than this.
m a k e n o m i s t a k e , t h i s i s n ‘ t m y w o r s t m o m e n t.
far from it. this is the best decision i’ll ever make.
i’ll take care of it.
everything’s black—but you hear banging, voices, bottles rattling, pained whimpering and strangled noises that sounds similar to a heartbroken man crying.
you slip back into momentary consciousness. through blurred vision, you see a slumped figure above you. you can’t identify who it is but red smears leaves a bit of a hard contrast to your unfocused eyes. without thinking, your feeble hand reach out and you’re only able to make contact with their chin, just with the tips of your fingers.
from one small touch, you can tell the skin long since lost its warmth and now is cold to the touch.
an unknown sorrow strikes your chest and you finally pass with a heart full of confusion, leaving it in a headlock.
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Good Job! | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Summary: When out gathering supplies with Daryl, he successfully catches your dinner. To show him how proud you were, you bestowed him the highest honour you could at that moment—a sticker.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Prison.
Warnings: Animal death.
Word count: 1.2k.
A/N: Inspired by a post I saw by @darylsdelts. I hope y’all like this!
The sun was shining brightly in the sky. Birds were chirping merrily from their sanctuary in the trees and the air just felt fresher than usual. If it were the old world, you would have spent the day lounging next to some body of water, a cold beverage in your hand as you soaked up the vitamin D the sun provided.
But it was not the old world. Instead of spending the day relaxing or something along those lines, you were instead trudging through the woods in clothes too long to be worn in such intense heat, wearing shoes so heavy you were seriously amazed that people wore them simply because they wanted to before the dead started walking, lugging a duffle bag full of supplies and deadly rifle along with you—a weapon you never would have thought you would be able to handle with the immense skill you now possessed.
Despite all those nuances that, under normal circumstances, would have had you complaining, you could not find it in yourself to do so, because it was not normal circumstances. The harshness of the world run by the dead had toughened your resolve and made you realize that some discomforts definitely were not as bad as you once thought them to be. Sure, you absolutely despised having to eat worms when the situation called for it, but you held your tongue because it was certainly better than the alternative, which was to starve.
Very rarely did you complain about anything nowadays—well, that is, if you did not count in the amount of times you had complained about Glenn’s snoring before, but that was all more in good fun. And a good chunk of what you knew to survive in a world like this was all thanks to the man you were trailing behind; your partner, Daryl Dixon.
As if somehow sensing that you had been thinking of him, Daryl glanced over his shoulder at you, his blue eyes sparkling with a softness reserved only for you.
“You alright back there?” he called back to you, despite already knowing what the answer would be. You were not the type of person to complain much about anything, and that was an attribute about you that he loved.
You nodded your head and adjusted the rifle’s strap over your shoulder. “I’m fine, Dar,” you assured him, sending him a radiant smile.
He nodded his head and turned his attention back in front of him. He kept his crossbow trained in front of him as his eyes searched for any dangers that could be lurking in the shadows, be it a walker, a wild animal, or another person. His main mission was to get the two of you to his bike that had been left abandoned for the time being, as the two of you had been forced to go on foot to the cabin Michonne had come across whilst on her search for the Governor.
The cabin—which had been in pretty decent shape despite being abandoned—had been stocked with supplies. You and Daryl, along with some other people, would have to go back in the morning to get the rest of the supplies. The two of you had stumbled across a metaphorical gold mine.
“So, Daryl,” you began, deeming it safe to strike up a conversation when the man in question grunted in acknowledgement. “What’s your favourite bird?”
The unexpectedness of the question made Daryl chuckle. He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes trained forward. “I don’ know. Maybe a bluejay?”
You nodded in approval at his choice, although he could not see you do so. “Great choice.”
Daryl hummed, glancing back at you. “Why’d ya ask?” he inquired. However, his attention got diverted when he heard something in the distance, his senses jumping to high alert.
“Just curious, is all.” You transferred the duffle bag from your one hand into the other, nearly sighing in relief when the blood began circulating through it again. “What—”
“Shh,” he shushed you quietly, instantly shutting you up. He motioned for you to stay put as he quietly stalked towards the bush where the source of the noise was, his crossbow raised and ready to be fired at a moment’s notice.
The perpetrator quickly got revealed in the form of a raccoon when Daryl pulled the leaves back. It hissed up at the archer, but it quickly got silenced when one of Daryl’s bolts pierced through its body. The pained whimper it let out right before it died made your heart ache a bit, but you quickly reminded yourself that it was necessary. It meant that there was the slightest bit more nutrition to bring back to the prison. Its death would not be in vain.
Daryl picked up his bolt, the raccoon’s body sat on it, before turning back to you. He simply raised the arrow a bit, shrugging a bit as he looked at you.
“Got us our dinner,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing to say.
You laughed lightly at him, shaking your head. However, it was as if a lightbulb went of in your head. Placing the duffle bag on the ground, you leaned down and zipped it open before rummaging through multiple cans of food and other supplies, in search of something you had bagged for little Judith to play with.
“Ah-ha!” you exclaimed victoriously when you found it, taking it out of the bag to reveal a small sticker book. You stepped towards your partner while flipping through the pages, searching for the sticker you had spotted when you had initially looked through it the first time.
You found it after a few moments. You gently peeled the sticker off of the page and pressed it against the archer’s beloved vest, the bright, neon-like yellow ‘good job!’ standing out against the gray leather. You smiled and gently patted his chest, before taking a step back.
“Good job,” you repeated the words on the sticker, giggling to yourself.
Daryl rolled his eyes at you, but he could not help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks,” he drawled sarcastically, trying not to laugh at the silliness of the situation. “S’much appreciated.”
“Oh, come on. I know you love it,” you told him through your small fits of laughter, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.
Daryl simply shook his head. “You’re ridiculous, ya know that?” Despite his words, he could not help the warmth that bloomed in his chest. He felt oddly touched by the small gesture, felt appreciated. He could not explain it.
You laughed and picked up the bag again, before beginning to walk again. “Yeah, but you love that about me.”
Among a lot of other things, Daryl thought to himself. However, he shook the thought from his mind and caught up with you, this time falling into step beside you rather than being in the lead.
As the two of you walked the remaining short distance to Daryl’s bike, with you striking up another conversation, Daryl simply admired you. He felt like the luckiest man alive for being able to say that you were his girl.
And if he got teased by the members of his found family for the sticker that remained on his vest for the rest of that day, he could not have cared less.
Taglist: @holdmytesseract @thevegandarkelf (comment/DM/inbox me to be added/removed!)
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl x you#daryl x oc#daryl x female reader#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon fan fiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n
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You almost missed the meeting regarding the new exhibit. You had to validate a few showpieces. Books mostly this time. On one of them... what was it... runes... Red cover with rubies, one could think it was painted with blood itself.
Your own reflection in the stones was teasing you. This object was powerful, it was alluring, it was dangerous. You didn't notice how others left.
You were left with the book in the storage. Who created it and why? You were not new to artifacts of presumed witchcraft. But this... it was different. As if the blood on the cover was instantly flowing changing the shades.
Oh, it was one of those days. Time didn't matter.
"Fascinating, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, it is." You didn't even look up. "Have never seen anything like this."
"Oh, I did. A very long time ago. This book belonged to ruthless people."
"What?"
She was a foreigner in this brightly lit room. Nonchalantly sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs. When did she come in?
"We need to close the storage. All your colleagues left a few hours ago."
Hours? Really? What was she even talking about? You checked your phone. A few missed calls and messages.
Brunette was smiling at your confusion.
"Have we met before?"
"No, I'm instead of Jeff."
"What happened? I saw him yesterday."
"Oh..." Brunette was kinda lost for an instant. "He had to leave. You know. Another department. My name's Rio".
She stood up and very officially offered you her hand.
"Pleased to meet you. My name's..."
"I know everything about you."
Rio was still holding your hand. Maybe you did see her before. Those green eyes. They were mesmerising.
______
A few days passed. You didn't have time to examine the book, but you kept thinking about it. Weirdly your thoughts were coming back to it. In what circumstances something like this could be created? What was written there?
You wanted to feel that book again. Sharp edges and ancient pages.
From the book your mind wandered to the stranger. You asked your colleagues. They knew Jeff was gone, but who was instead of him - no idea. You wanted to see her again. you wanted to lose yourself in those gentle touches again.
___
A few more days. You were giving a lecture. Confident and charming you were in your element. Until you noticed those green eyes amongst the audience. Rio was catching your every move, your every word.
"You were amazing." Brunette caught you after the class. "Truly a master of your craft."
"Well, I do have a certain area of expertise."
"What a tease."
Oh, now you were definitely blushing.
"I haven't seen you at the museum." You tried to find a more safe subject.
"I was busy with other projects. I'm kinda like a consultant for confused people."
You nodded. Why was looking at you like this? As if expecting something, as if waiting for the answer.
"Well, you did find the time for the lecture."
"I found the time for the lecturer."
"I appreciate both the time and the effort."
"Yeah, you have no idea how determined I can be."
Rio winked at you. She was busy, she had to go. She chose to leave you with just a hint of satisfaction.
"Oh, and the book., It is waiting for you."
____
Rio was right. You had to concentrate on your work. Exhibit was approaching, your input was needed. You were spending more and more time with the remains of the old times. You were spending more and more time with that damned book. Those runes were not known to you. As the symbols. Looked like an interpretation of the maiden-mother-crone myth, but there was a green halo around them.
"You need coffee."
That wasn't a question. With Rio nothing was.
"Thanks." You took a sip "Oh, double espresso. How did you know?"
"Had a feeling, you like it... intense."
"Sure."
"So..." Rio nudged your shoulder to get all the attention she always required. "How is this thing going?"
"Good."
"And this?" She pointed at the book.
"Waiting for the answer from a few colleges."
"Well, I'm sure the answer is going to be fascination. But..." She took your phone and bag without asking. "you need to be someplace else."
___
Why did you even let her command? You just blinked and suddenly you were near an old theater.
"Magic show?"
Rio had tickets for the first row.
"What can I say? I was always fond of illusions."
It was noticeable. She was cheering even for the simplest tricks. She adored theatricality and tension. Except for maybe the tricks that involved cheating death. Yeah, Rio huffed in annoyance a few times.
"Well, this is not how I expected my evening to go."
Street was completely silent. You and Rio were the only ones who decided to enjoy the autumn night.
"I can tell you how all the tricks worked."
Oh, for sure Rio knew.
"It's your hobby?"
"Let's say, I've seen these shows quite a few times."
"That would destroy all the magic part of the performance, don't you think?"
Rio stopped, snapped her fingers and in the other hand a flower appeared.
"Oh, you're smooth." You laughed at the present. "So, you're into tricks."
"No, I'm more into magic."
______
It was a book of protective spells. It was supposed to save from evil and wrong, from hungry and desperate. And not protect, it was supposed to hide from the sight of darkness. Someone was supposed to be hidden in the blood of the killed. You spend hours trying to find the recipient of this protection.
"Well, that's an interesting observation." Rio put her legs on the table. You were having a dinner at your office. "Amazing."
"I'm glad you're happy with my research."
"I truly am. Do you know how those spells are supposed to be activated."
"I assume by the blood of the protected."
"Yeah, guess it could work." Rio shrugged. "Witches were never that imaginative."
It became some kind of a routine. At the beginning you didn't see Rio at all. But now she was always near. With lunches, coffees, books and affection. And whatever she was calling magic.
Rarely you could feel comfortable with someone so close. For years you preferred to be on your own. It just never clicked with anyone. But Rio... she knew you. Your tastes, your dreams, your desires. Her affection was a given, just a fact that you stumbled into. It was a weird feeling. Like you were continuing to live something you never had.
____
"I don't think you're doing it right."
You could feel Rio was close. Her hair was almost tickling your neck. There was no need for her to stay right behind you. But it apparently was the best spot to watch you translating the text.
"You're being a little distractive, Rio."
"How? I'm helping. This sign here. It clearly doesn't mean death."
"Well, that's a woman with a skull instead of a face."
"I'd say she's more about the natural order of things.'
"Maybe."
___
You were working more, you were sleeping less. You were distracted. Your dreams changed, in them you could freely read the spells. Voices without purpose were helping you. Sometimes even Rio couldn't have you all for herself.
"I brought you something."
"Huh?"
Rio was holding a dagger. Black stones, same runes.
"Just don't play with it often."
"Where did you get this?"
"It was here all the time. Kinda lost in the mess."
"Yeah."
You didn't care whether she was lying or not. Was it the other part of the story? Was it the threat or help?
You took it. Heavy with cold and sharp with pain it fit your hand properly.
"Every witch was supposed to have such a dagger." Rio took the knife. "Usually it was carved with the symbols of a greater entity, You know for protection."
She was holding your hand, caressing the palm with the cold of a steel. Still dangerous, still deadly. You didn't dare to look at her movements.
"And what entity protected this blade?"
"I think you know. You read the spells."
You could feel your skin almost succumbing to the blade. But it was so much more unbearable to have Rio so close. She was the perfection itself. You didn't care about the blade, you leaned into her.
"Fuck." you muttered under your breath. But it was too late. Your blood was spilled.
You were her prey, Rio pushed and you and the blade cut deeper, but you didn't care. She was kissing you, she was hurting you.
Dagger fell on the floor. Without breaking the kiss Rio guided your hands to the support of the table. Your wound touched the book.
Suddenly the pain shot through your whole body. You wanted to scream, but Rio didn't let you. Holding you, making you feel her passion, brunette was only deepening the kiss.
You opened your eyes. The room was on fire. Games of the primal flame were everywhere. Everything was melting away. Instead another reality was forming.
You groaned into the kiss. It was familiar. It took all the strength you had to push Rio away. She was breathing heavily.
"What the..." you looked at your palm. It was healed. "What... what happened..."
Those voices were right. Rio. It was all because of Rio.
"It was the only way..."
Her voice was trembling. You heard this already. Her plea, her apology.
"I know you." You took the book from the table. Now those spells made sense. "Rio Vidal."
"I thought... " She was choking on her regret and doubt. "I thought I wouldn't be able to find you."
"I remember..."
Rio gently touched your cheek. You didn't feel it. Suddenly there was a wall with the thickness of centuries.
"My love..."
"It was always you, wasn't it?" Your fingers were tingling. "You were always the reason."
"I don't..."
"They died because of you."
"What? No."
You grabbed her wrist. You were strong, stronger than you remembered. Purple magic was pouring from your veins. It didn't let Rio move.
"Because of you all those people were dead. You attacked innocents."
"No."
"My coven tried to hunt you. And in return you destroyed others."
'"No, no, no. These are not your memories. It's an illusion your coven gave you."
You pushed her. Rio was the plague. You remembered it. Your sisters warned you.
"I will banish you from here."
Rio didn't even think about defending herself. She needed to let you be closer.
You grabbed her by the throat. Rio only obeyed. You needed to cut out her black heart.
You waved and the dagger appeared in your hand. You were calling for your weapon. It returned to the magic that created it. But the second you were ready to swing, it burned you.
You were holding the same knife Rio gave you. It wasn't possible. Your enemy was protecting you.
"No. It's not true..."
Yes, you didn't remember. But what if... you were holding a piece of your old life. Rio was in every cell of your body. How long were you like this? How long were you far from her? You were still washed over by hate. But not because of Rio. No, you couldn't hurt her.
"I can help you..."
You shook your head in disbelief and disappeared in purple smoke.
_____
You didn't know where to go. The life you remembered wasn't yours, just as a life you were living for the last who knew how many years.
Your sisters betrayed you, they were not the only ones. Such strong magic required the assistance of the sorcerer supreme.
It doesn't matter what you were thinking about, you always were coming back to Rio. She saved you, she broke the spell. But if she was the one lying. What if she forged the blade? No, no, not possible. Not your Rio. Your Rio? What these weeks meant for you? Were you in love?
Not only your head, your blood was boiling with magic. You forgot this feeling. You were trying to control the shaking in your hands but it was just getting worse.
"Rio." you whispered.
"Yes, my love."
She appeared in front of you. Her crown was glowing in the dark. No point in playing pretend anymore.
"This blade belongs to me."
Rio nodded.
"You're the entity that is protecting me."
Nod again.
"What happened?"
"They wanted to separate us. They were afraid that you would have special treatment. And with that become too powerful for them to handle."
"Special treatment?"
"Yes." Rio hesitated. "You were the only one who could have my... favor."
"I don't understand."
"You could be invincible. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You were one of the more powerful wielders of magic. And that was a dangerous combination. So they hid you. Sealed you in the book. It took me centuries to find you."
Your heart was aching. If it was true, your life was taken by those whom you considered family.
"And we..." You blinked away a memory. "Did we ever have a garden?"
"Oh, yes." Rio dared to come closer. "I created a pocket dimension for us. Just us. We could do whatever we wanted."
"I also remember that Rio is not your only name."
She was dreading this moment. For her only hope was left. But for you it was finally the beginning. Not the memories, but affection was guiding you. All those memories of Rio's betrayal. You had to trust your heart. Hate wasn't yours, it wasn't real.
Yes, it was the truth. It was always Rio. The only thing you wanted was for her to be your reason for existence. And it only could be explained with memories that you couldn't fathom.
You were gravitating towards her. It was easier for you to believe in the ghost of ancient love than lose Rio. Your Rio.
"No, it's not."
For the first time Rio wasn't looking you in the eyes. You had to lift her chin. She was barely breathing, she was barely even functioning, waiting for your sentence. Regal entity reduced to a mortal.
"I'm in love with Rio, but Lady Death..." You pulled her into a kiss. This time your powers entwined with the glow being almost unbearable to be around. "...is a part of me."
"I will help you remember. I will help you return everything they've stolen from you."
"Oh yes." You smiled into her skin. "Right after I punish those who separated us."
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Review Time : Fluffy Treatment
Note: This is my personal take to Zayne's most recent memory. Noting has been confirmed by Infold, so this is just full delulu mode as I dive in to Fluffy Treatment. Spoiler Alert for those who hasn't seen the memory yet.
Infold is really giving Zayne girlies the stablish relationship vibe with Zayne. And the fact that MC again reciprocates Zayne's affection is definitely win for me.
Once again, MC willingly volunteers herself to take care of Zayne and honestly, they become more playful with each other. The stiff and aloof Zayne has becoming more and more accustomed to banters and jokes. He even openly teases MC referring to the whole box of chocolate she ate at his place.
And speaking of her place, remember that pajama set she bought for Zayne in Cozy Afternoon? he is wearing them again at his home. Come to think of it, only Zayne have a pajama set.
And about sleeping and napping, they were sleeping on the same bed/couch again. There is no stopping them being so cozy around each other. Let's also note that feeling each other's warmth is making them relax and sleepy. At the ending of the Fluffy Treatment, lets take in the fact the even if the are both half asleep they are taking care of each other. Zayne is such a gentleman covering them up because the blanket slip on the side.
Zayne is also being territorial with MC (Note: Territorial not Jealous because he knows she belongs to him), he was never rude and he still let her choose what she wanted to do. This was shown when MC wanted to enter the Pet Café. Even though he was clearly upset by wanting to pet another cat, he still doesn't force MC to do what he wants.
When MC reluctantly leave the Pet Café, Zayne wants to make up to her by dressing up as a butler without 2nd thought so MC can both have a Cat and a Butler. This is another heart warming event of them compromising to ensure no hard or ill feelings between them. If they couldn't do one thing, they will surely find a way around it.
Zayne also shows how submissive he is to MC, he did not put a hat when she stops him, he comes with her at the mall even though he is really anxious in going out, he let's her take care of him and most importantly, the way he knelt down to returns MC's shoes. I take this act as a complete surrender.
I have 2 favorite part of this memory. - First, is when he sniff MC a few time and confirms that he have his scent on her and saying "You're all mine!" Gosh it's so hot I almost peed my pants. And after claiming her as his, his tail wraps around her waits. I did a little research and found out that when a cat "Tail Wrapped Around You: Touching you with the tail or wrapping it around you is one way your furry friend expresses affection, relaxation, and love." I lost it! Zayne really is in love with MC and he is saying it by doing thing more than word can say. Oh my gosh, I can't tell you how much I swoon at this. He is friggin hot!!! - 2nd is when he bites and lick MC's finger and tell her that it was his way in showing affection and then!!! MC reciprocates his affection by rubbing his cheeks. His reaction is so overwhelming. We have to remember that he is a cat at that time and his senses are heighted. Try to imagine how Euphotic he must have felt when she rubs his cheeks. His facial expressions is sensational. It seems like his eyes are rolling back.
Once again, Zayne and MC shows us what being equally in love is. It was always give and take for them. Always compromising and always so affectionate towards each other.
Zayne and MC becomes a safe haven for me. They give me happiness. I just hope that in their future memory, we will get to see them lounging in together in the Kindled moments.
#love and deepspace#zayne#zayne love and deepspace#zayne lads#lnds zayne#zayne l&ds#dr zayne#zayne x mc#lads zayne x reader#zayne x y/n#zayne x you#zayne x reader#zayne x oc#yes cat caretaker#fluffy treatment
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For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.
"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."
Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.
"Okay!"
"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.
"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"
Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.
"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.
"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.
"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"
"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."
Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?
"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.
"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.
"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"
"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."
"You like men?!" Eddie asked.
"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.
"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.
"In the hospital," Steve replied.
"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.
"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.
"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.
"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.
"Well, yes, but - "
"Did he say yes?"
"Again, yes, however - "
"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.
"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.
"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.
"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.
"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.
"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."
"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.
"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.
"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.
"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.
"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."
"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"
"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."
Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.
"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.
"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.
"Done!"
Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.
"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"
TWO DAYS LATER. . .
Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.
"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."
"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."
Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.
"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"
Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.
"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.
"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"
"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.
"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.
"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.
"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.
"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.
"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."
"I would never let you fall."
Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.
"Oh, no," Eddie said.
"What?"
"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.
"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.
"Yeah, I am in deep - "
Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.
"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"
"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"
Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi4bi#idiot4idiot#dingus4dingus#bi as hell bi the way#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#robin & steve#platonic stobin#platonic with a capital p#platonic soulmates#wayne munson#half crack half serious#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes#rueleigh's thoughts
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He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.
That man had an addiction 🤭
"I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back. "No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby."
He is begging
"I'm always thinking about you." Your words were an ego boost.
She just knows what her husband needs
You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.
No risk no fun lol
I also missread it at first as "Bradley was content with six kids or MORE" hahah 😅
You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?" "Then I would say I love you."
That's a ploy he would gladly fall for
Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime. And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.
They just are a true match
Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."
I feel like the aviation part of the curriculum is gonna become legendary really quick, the next year you can already hear the new fourth graders excitingly talk at recess or breaks: "I'm in Mrs Bradshaws class and my older sister told me around this last year they started with aviation. And a real aviator visited them! And a super cool mechanic!!" And another one adds, having heard the conversation topic from the younger students before then in the bus line: "It's all true! And you get to visit the base. And Mrs wasn't always called Mrs Bradshaw, she had a different name but she married the aviator we wrote letters!" And another one joins in: "And if you go to the library events Mr Marty is always there. He is also in the Navy and he is the best Mechanic that's what Mrs Bradshaws husband said. He is the best at fixing planes!"
It's just gonna turn in this whole legendary thing with more and more outlandish added stories after a few years hahga
He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall.
Give that poor man some good food!
When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips.
What a great surprise 🥰🥹
To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)
Oh I love them and I will miss these two 🥰
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 29 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: While Bradley thought it was unfair of the Navy to mess with him while he was still in his honeymoon phase, he certainly did love getting mail from you.
Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, Bradley being husband material, 18+
Length: 1700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
That autumn....
As soon as you led Bradley inside after he drove the two of you home from Salvatore's, you ran your fingers along his cheek and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "You had a lunch picnic with Thai food on the beach. And then you got pasta for dinner. Do you have any other requests?" you asked, using your strict classroom voice which made Bradley's mouth water.
"I do, actually," he whispered, melting into your touch. "How about some of that lingerie you picked out in Paris?"
The honeymoon was almost three months ago, but not an hour went by where Bradley didn't reminisce about the days he got to enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower and the view of your ass while he fucked you. It always left him with a smile on his face. But his smile started to falter when he remembered that he was shipping out tomorrow, and he wouldn't return until after the New Year. At least he would be allowed to communicate with you this time. That was the only thing saving him from almost certain despair.
"I think that can be arranged," you told him with a smile, unbuttoning your top as he stumbled along after you. "But you have to wait out here until I'm ready."
Bradley groaned and leaned on the wall in the hallway, watching you bounce along to the bedroom without him while you laughed. He didn't mind waiting a few minutes, because he was going to love whatever you were about to do. He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.
He hadn't even finished packing his duffle yet, because he didn't want this to feel real. He was planning on doing that tonight with your help, kissing you as you folded up his shirts and lined up his socks on the bed. But that was going to have to wait a few minutes. You opened the door to reveal the sheer nightie hugging your body as you pressed your thighs together and bit your lip.
Bradley was pushing away from the wall, heading right for you. "Gorgeous," he murmured, pulling you against him and walking you backwards to the bed. "Baby, I'm going to miss this too much."
His heart was pounding in his ears, hands full of your lace covered ass before you dropped to the bed on your back. "I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back.
"No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby." You grinned as you turned your head to the side, and Bradley stepped out of his remaining clothing before he climbed in bed. He was hovering above you, lips pressed to your ear as he whispered, "You'll wear the goodies for me, too. And you'll email me every mouth watering photo that you take of your fingers shoved deep in your pussy."
"Bradley," you whined, bucking your hips up until he had to hold you in place with his big hands on your body.
"I want a little treat every time you touch yourself. And I want to know that you're thinking about me."
"I'm always thinking about you."
Your words were an ego boost. Just the kind of thing that would get him through this work assignment and back into your arms. "When you're alone and thinking about me, I want some pictures, pretty girl. A whole inbox full of them. Some sweet ones," he crooned, kissing his way along your jaw to your lips. "And some dirty ones," he added, mouth teasing your skin until your nipple was between his lips and you were whining. He sucked gently, tugging until his lips popped free, leaving you begging for more with your fingers in his hair.
You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.
"I'm going to miss my wife," he crooned, guiding his cock inside your slick perfection as soon as you spread your legs. He rocked in and out of you slowly, enjoying the feel of your body and your voice and your sweet scent. Memorizing everything. Telling himself he could get through the time away from you as long as he could come back to this.
It was so late when Bradley finally left the bed. You and he were wrung out and fucked out. Fingers laced together, barely moving, unable to go for a fourth round. "That was wild," you laughed when he finally rolled away from you, dizzy as he stood and looked at the wrecked bedding around your naked body.
"Shit, Gorgeous." He was laughing, too as he said, "I still need to finish packing in the next five hours."
You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?"
"Then I would say I love you."
----------------------------------
Waking up for work in a bed that was half cold was not your idea of a good time. You shivered every morning that Bradley was gone, especially when November brought with it a chilly bite to the air. The commute from Coronado to Mira Mesa and back each day felt like a punishment when you knew you weren't going to arrive home to a husband who was excited to see you and hear about your adventures in teaching.
Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime.
And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.
While you made it a point to spend time with Natasha, Edith, Ruby and Marty, the loneliness was somehow worse now that you had rings on your finger. The best thing to happen was the arrival of the day when your new fourth grade class started their unit on aviation.
Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."
Later that week, you had a sizable cardboard box packed up with letters and snacks for your husband. Instead of telling him exactly when the first package would arrive, you left it as a surprise for him to stumble upon.
-------------------------------
Bradley was exhausted. The mechanical crew on this deployment was nowhere near as kind or competent as Marty, and he found himself constantly visiting their shop to work through issues with his aircraft. He missed his friends and his home and his wife. He missed you so fucking much. All of the letters and emails you sent him were fantastic, but he even missed having a bunch of pen pals to converse with at the end of the day.
Every happy thought that entered his mind seemed to be pushed aside when he realized he was still a long way from returning to San Diego. He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall.
The cabbage rolls were disgusting, but at least the aircraft carriers were consistent. He picked at his meal and then ate two plates of dessert to make himself feel a little bit better. When he was sorting his dirty dishes and tray into the appropriate place, he was surprised to hear his name being called amongst some others.
"Bradshaw! You've got unclaimed mail!"
He perked up immediately. How did he have something else to claim? He picked up an enormous envelope from you the other day along with a card from Edith. Did you send him a handwritten note again already?
When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips. He could have some regular pen pals to correspond with again. His smile grew wider when he looked at the way you addressed the box to him in your tidy handwriting.
To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)
---------------------------------
Bradley has the ultimate pen pal in his wife. Thanks for reading this series which ended up being so much longer than originally intended! Thanks for all of the love and feedback along the way! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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the greatest chapter four
it girl!reader x drew starkey smau
summary what are the odds?
previous chapter
DREW STARKEY SENT YOU A MESSAGE
block delete accept
sorry about everyone ‘spawning’ in your comments
ahhhhhhahaha no it’s fine! ahaha
but it is because we’re all fans of you. if that helps!
ahh that’s so insane! thank you so much<3 me and
my friends LOVE outer banks:)
that means a lot. we love knowing people love
it as much as we do!
i swear me and kaylor talked about it all
the time if we could😭
maddie was the same way with love island😂
she got a bunch of us to watch it with her
good thing she did
hahaha! i luvvv her
how’s it being home now? you were there awhile
i missed my bed!
but i’m really surprised at how much support i have rn
yeah it definitely seemed like you felt alone in there
despite having leah, ree, and jana? yeah. i did lol
well you’re home now… what are you planning to do?
i have to be in nyc in two days to film😖
so that first, and then focus on my content
the reunion?
yeah we’re filming on the 14th soooo excited
jana has reciepts we been saving JUST for this
hmmmm the 14th in nyc
who are you ladies coming for?
haha yes i’ll be there for the whole week
jana got me and i got leah
so i’m coming for ethan’s funk ass
jana is going to call out andrea
pretty sure liv said she’s got my back on that too
yeah… that ethan guy sucks
i’ll be watching to see how you go about that one
oh! well let it be known i’m usually much more
graceful than i’m going to seem during the reunion
i’m sure you’ll handle yourself just fine
clocking ethan will actually possess my body…
u should be worried just a little bit
haha if somebody has to it should be you
maddie always loved when you got into it with him
he did my girl SO wrong how could i not😭
so did you watch it all back?
nay and i did whenever we got back!
we stayed at my house for the weekend and
binged it all, writing down the important
shit to bring up at the reunion
how was that process?
i can’t even watch myself act, so i can’t
imagine watching me go through what you did.
uhhhh ahaha yeah… it was rough
that’s why it took the whole weekend tbh
i bet it was difficult reliving everything
that on top of seeing my best friend’s from
a different pov definitely sucked ass
at least you’re home now! you can move on
that’s the plan. the show didn’t work for me, but it
turns out friendship island is much much better
yeah you seem to have found a good group
the best haha!
now it’s on to bigger n better
that’s the only way to go about it i think
read Sunday
yourusername posted a photo!
liked by korde1ll , madelyncline , drewstarkey and others
yourusername back in nyc with my best friend<3
tagged yourbestfriend
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username ahhhhh im so excited for the reunion!
↳ username PLEASEEEEE I NEED IT NOW
username so glad y/b/f was in charge of ur ig when you were in the villa she kept us feddddd
username my favorite og villa girlie
yourbestfriend and ur never leaving me again
↳ yourusername maybe if u came to boston more u wouldn’t hate it as much
username hate knowing that u n leah live on opposite sides of the country
drewstarkey hmmm
username city girl winninggg
username i can’t remember a time i wasn’t thinking about you 24/7 if i’m being honest
madelyncline 😍 prettiest girl ever
↳ yourusername actually crazy coming from u
username okay when did obx get here?
username i just knowwwwww u and jana are coming to the reunion with AMMO
↳ yourusername baby, we’re coming in correct i promiseee
username ok so r u like going to post a yt video now that ur home? been missing ur vlogs like crazy
↳ yourusername LMAO u clocked me🙂↕️ yes videos are coming soon i swear
username just a girl wishing to meet y/n
leahkateb c u tmrw bb
↳ yourusername crying from excitement tbh
oliviaa_walker okay so we’re getting dinner tn
↳ yourusername yes pls n thx
hmmmm the 14th in nyc
↳ this is actually so sus after ur lil comment
hello again
haha! that was my way of saying i’m
also going to be in new york i get there
tomorrow actually!
oh! ahahaha what are the odds lol
seems like i would have some free time too
haha i will too since i’m making a whole
weekend out of it with my best friend
let me know what you’re up to?
yeah for sure ha!
ISLAND GIRLS🥥🌴
kaylor baby🍰
okay but what r u guys wearing?
liv🖤
real question is:
is y/n bringing a date
y/n🪩
idt it’s that kind of event babe
oh nvm gtg
naynay🤍
LMAO pls tell me y’all kept talking w eo
kaylor🍰
ohhhhhh so you guys have been talking
leah boo🐴
and she left him on read!
naynay🤍
y/n no u didn’t
ree💓
be so fr bitch
liv🖤
WHAT
y/n🪩
😶😶😶😶 hehe no…
leah boo🐴
lyin ass
kaylor🍰
wait what! noooo why would u do that??
y/n🪩
anyways i’m wear a black floor length
dress and evening gloves gtg!
an my giggly girl just geeked drew dms her
taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @willowpains @percysley @rrosiitas @nellyboosworld @ethanthequeefqueen
#it girl!reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey outer banks#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey#love island usa#social media
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Request: you know the episode 4.19 where Sam and Dean get a call from their supposed half brother and their rightfully suspicious and it ends up being a hunt for them? What about instead of Sam getting tied down and bled it’s their baby sister? She’s small and young and definitely shouldn’t be losing this much blood, she can’t even lift herself up after Sam and Dean manage to free her. Pls and thank you!
Request: I have a request on s4 e19 when Sam gets tortured by the ghouls. Can you reverse the roles with Winchester sister? No rush do whenever you want. Just remember to take breaks and drink water! Bye! :)
Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader
Warnings: Extreme Blood Loss
A/N: Please let me know if you like this because it helps motivate me to write more lol! Requests are open and if I haven’t gotten to yours yet feel free to request again because I have over 200 requests and I’m working on a bunch. You can request anything and everything I don’t care and I will never get annoyed!!
“Okay we’ve closed off every other way into the house.” You said to Adam, looking at the last tunnel in the house that wasn’t closed off. “If this thing is coming, it’s coming through here.” You finished at the same time as a door creaked through the house. Your attention immediately snapped towards the noise.
“You were saying?” Adam asked and you looked back towards him.
“Adam!” You heard from the other room and your heart sank.
“Adam!” It cried again, but before you could make your next move Adam was already calling back out.
“Mom?” Adam yelled, ready to run.
“No!” You tried to stop him, but he didn’t listen.
“Mom!” He yelled out and pushed past you.
“Adam!” You shouted after him, getting your gun ready. You ran down the steps after him trying to get him to stop.
“Mom?” You heard him sigh in relief.
“Adam no wait!” You cried out and rounded the corner to see Adam and the monster.
“It took me, but I got away.” It cried as Adam embraced her.
“Adam, step away from it.” You screamed with your gun pointed.
“Y/N, what the hell?” He shouted at you, confused.
“It’s not your mother!” You tried to reason with him.
“Adam, who—what is going on?” The monster cried.
“Get away from him!” You yelled at it starting to feel hopeless.
“What is going on?” It cried.
“You listen to me. It’s really her, okay?” Adam said, pushing it behind him.
“There was too much blood, your mother’s dead. There was too much blood in the vents!” You yelled trying to quickly explain before he snatched the gun out of your hand.
“Adam!” It cried.
“Shoot it!” You screamed, now terrified of the predicament you were both in.
“He’s crazy, it’s me!” It yelled in protest of the gun being pointed at it and immediately Adam pointed the gun back at you.
“Look—Adam!” You cried.
“It’s me!” It said.
“That’s not your mother!” You screamed trying to save the both of you and make him understand that his mother was not his mother and in fact the monster they were hunting. He flipped the gun back on the monster.
“Shoot it! It’s not human!” You yelled, trying to get through to him.
“I know.” He smirked, turning to face you. You had no time to be confused with what the hell was happening before he hit you with the butt of the gun and everything went black.
——-
You woke up to humming and noticed you were tied down to a table. You started struggling to get yourself out, but to no avail.
“Silver. No need none of the tests worked. You’re not shapeshifters. You’re ghouls.” You sneered, staring at Adam’s fake mom.
“You know, I find that term racist.” She replied with a knife in her hand.
“Huh.” You said with attitude, rolling your eyes. You tried to free yourself once more when she came to you sniffing you and biting your ear.
“Ew! Get away you weirdo freak!” You yelled. You had quite a bad problem with bad mouthing monsters and it always ended up biting you in the butt.
“Fresh meat. So much better than what we’re used to.” She grinned.
“Oh I should’ve known. It was the fresh kills that threw me. Ghouls don’t usually go after the living because you’re all just disgusting, filthy, nasty, trash pickers, taking form of the last corpse you choke down like a scavenger.” You sneered, again with the name calling. She was lucky you had to get to the point because you were just going to go on and on with all the negative words in the dictionary.
“And their thoughts, and their memories. Like Adam for instance.” Fake Adam said, walking into the room.
“Yeah well we are what we eat.” She chuckled.
“You’re pathetic monsters.” You said with disgust. Fake Adam sliced your one arm open and you let out a groan. His fake mom immediately went to licking the blood.
“That was for calling us pathetic.” Adam said.
“Yeah I’d call you a lot more than that. Do you have time?” You asked sarcastically, still struggling to get away.
“You know you use that word a lot, Y/N. Monsters.” Fake Adam said and brought the knife down on the table missing you by just an inch.
“But I don’t think you know what it means.” He finished as his fake mom continued to lick the blood pouring out of your arm.
“Her blood—it tastes different.” She said in confusion.
“Our father was a monster? Why? Because of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Y/N. Living anyway.” Fake Adam smirked and grabbed the knife.
“No he was no monster. But the thing that killed him was. A monster named John Winchester.” Adam’s fake mom said trickling the knife up and down your body. Fake Adam stuck his fingers into the wound on your side and you cried out in pain.
“Thanks to your daddy, my brother and I, grew up on our own.” She explained as he twisted his finger deeper into your side and you let out a scream.
“At least we had each other.” She finished. He took his finger out of your wound and licked the blood off of it.
“Like you and your brothers— inseparable.” He said.
“Actually it was very hard to get you on your own. Your brothers are almost always keeping you out of harms way. Awww how protective.” She said sarcastically.
“So we figured instead of killing all of you, why not just kill you? They would suffer way more knowing that their wittle baby sister is dead.” He said in a fake sad voice.
“Go to hell.” You managed to get out.
“Like you said, Y/N, the only thing you can count on is family.” He said as she sucked more blood out of your arm.
“And for 20 years, we lived like rats. Graveyard after graveyard, all that stinking flesh. And then we thought hey why not move up to the fresher game?” She said.
“And we knew just where to start.” He smirked and started carving on your other arm. You cried out in pain and felt the world fading around you.
“Revenge— it’s never over, is it, Y/N?” He asked, still carving around your arm.
“First, it was John’s cop friend, and then his slut and then his son.” She said twirling her knife around.
“Then I called John, but the son of a bitch was already dead.” Adam sighed, disappointed.
“So I guess you will have to do instead.” She said, petting the side of your face.
“And they won’t interrupt us this time. We’re gonna feed on you nice and slow— like we did with Adam.” He said.
“Oh and by the way, he really was your brother. You should know that.” She grinned. You struggled against the ropes that tied you down, trying anything to escape.
“He was still alive when we took our first bites.” He smiled.
“And he was a screamer!” She said before she sliced your entire forearm. Fake Adam followed after her and sliced your arm again. You screamed in pain and thrashed. You could feel the blood pooling out of your body and you could hear it dripping into the bowls. The way it flowed like a waterfall made you feel absolutely sick. You knew you were going to bleed out and that you didn’t have much time left.
“Y/N, the more you struggle, the faster you’re going to bleed out. So you might as well lie back and relax.” Adam said as you whined and whimpered, trying to stay awake.
“Hey!” You heard Dean scream and a shot ring out.
“Dean, they’re ghouls-“ You tried screaming, but you were so weak it came out as a whisper. You knew Dean heard you though because another shot rung out.
“Which means headshot.” He said as Sam came stumbling into the room.
“Y/N!” He yelled before he was taken down by fake Adam and thrown through the glass doors. Dean immediately followed suit as you groaned and cried out. Your breaths were becoming rapid and shorter. You didn’t have enough energy to pick up your head to see the fight going down. It felt like forever before you saw blurry figure walk back into the room. Not knowing who it was, you tried to get your body to move. You felt like you had a fifty pound weight holding your body down.
“No!” You whimpered weakly, knowing you had no fight left in you.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s Sam, sweetheart. I got you, you’re safe.” You heard Sam and felt him cup your cheeks to get your attention.
“S‘mmy.” You slurred.
“Yeah, hey bug, it’s me, I got you.” Sam said softly trying to comfort you, knowing that it was bad.
“Dean, she’s freezing cold.” Sam cried out trying to stay calm.
“Shit.” Dean said panicking. You felt the rope being cut off of your one wrist and you groaned out in pain.
“I know kid, I know. Hang in there for me okay?” Dean said, knowing that it was painful, but it had to be done. He started cutting the other one on your wrist while Sam started on your ankles. You felt your heart racing, your body sweating and your skin clammy. You could barely hang on to consciousness and your body felt weighed down by a million weights.
“Mmm scared.” You slurred looking into the blurriness of your brothers.
“You’re going to be okay sweetheart alright? You’re going to be fine. Just keep talking to us okay?” Sam asked, now full on panicking, but trying to keep you calm. You knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much blood and you weren’t sure if you were going to be okay. You let a few tears slide down your cheeks as you struggled to catch your breath.
“No, no, no. You’re going to be okay, alright? I won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean said noticing your tears. He quickly placed rags on your forearms and held them tight to stop the bleeding. You cried out in pain and tried to pull away when you felt him putting pressure on them.
“I know kid, I know. I’m sorry.” Dean said clenching his jaw. Sam made his next move by helping you sit up, but your body felt like jelly. You couldn’t lift yourself up as your head lobbed to the side of you. This feeling absolutely terrified you and left your body trembling in fear. The impending doom was taking over and it was paralyzing you. As your brothers scrambled around you trying to support your body, they urgently discussed their next steps in helping you when you interrupted.
“Mm I going to die?” You whispered weakly, blinking away the dots that clouded your vision. Scared that if you closed them, you wouldn’t open them again.
“HEY, HEY!” Dean yelled and tapped your face. Your eyes snapped wide open and your body trembled uncontrollably as you whimpered in fear.
“You’re not going to die. Do you hear me? Just keep those eyes open for me, alright?” Dean asked with fear in his own eyes, but when he looked into yours he was met with confusion.
“Wh-what?” You started. In an instant, you were confused. Where were you? What happened?
“De?” You called out for your eldest brother, the one who took care of you your entire life. The one who was always there for you when you called.
“Yeah I’m here baby, I’m here.” He said. Baby? He only called you that when something serious was happening. You finally took in your surroundings and saw yourself covered in blood as your brothers worked around you.
“What happened!” You cried out, completely confused and dazed.
“Relax sweetheart, you’re going to be okay, alright? You’re going to be okay.” You heard Sam say as he lifted your body off of the table. You grunted in pain, but your body only grew heavier.
“There’s too much blood!” Dean cried.
“I know, I know!” Sam yelled in frustration.
It felt like time was skipping because the next thing you knew, you were in the impala. You glanced to your right and noticed your dad.
“Dad?” You asked, fuzzily. Dean immediately looked towards Sam who glanced down towards you.
“She’s hallucinating Dean, she’s lost too much blood.” Sam said stealing a concerned glance towards his brother. Dean gripped the steering wheel tight and cursed silently, speeding faster.
“Dad, I missed you.” You cried, which caused Dean to completely break.
“Hey baby, no, dad’s not here, alright? Dad’s not here.” He said weakly, completely terrified of his sister’s state.
“Mmm t’red.” You said weakly, the heaviness and the blood loss making their last round on you.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, sweetheart, you’ve gotta stay awake.” Sam said urgently, but you didn’t listen and closed your eyes in exhaustion.
“Keep your eyes open please!” Sam cried out and tapped your face. It had no effect on you as you slipped into unconsciousness.
———
You jumped awake to a beeping noise in a complete panic. You were in a daze and physically couldn’t lift yourself up which made you panic more.
“Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” You heard Dean say, but the beeping noise only got faster. You were in total confusion and couldn’t make out where you were.
“Relax for me kid, you’re alright.” You heard Dean again and this time felt a hand placed on you. You groggily looked around and saw that you were in a hospital room. You immediately went into an intense shiver unsure if it was from how cold you were or if it was from the nerves that just overcame you. Dean cupped the side of your face, no doubt feeling your body tremor.
“You’re okay.” He said softly, giving you a reassuring nod.
“So cold.” You made out and he sent you a sad look.
“Alright, let me go find a nurse and get you some more blankets.” He replied hesitantly unsure if he wanted to leave you alone when Sam walked into the room with coffee. Sam’s immediate sigh of relief when he saw you awake and his glance towards Dean made you realize how serious whatever happened to you was. Dean left the room and Sam walked towards you.
“Hey sweetheart.” He said softly, sitting in front of you.
“Sammy.” You smiled weakly and tried to reach out to him. He immediately got the hint and took your hands into his.
“I’m here.” He said gently and rubbed his fingers on your hand.
“I’m so weak.” You mumbled, trying to understand why your body felt so heavy.
“What happened?” You whispered, not remembering anything that took place. Sam’s face fell and his eyes filled with sorrow.
“The ghouls had you bleeding out and when we got to you it was almost too late. You were so pale and you were ice cold. You were so cold bug, it terrified me.” Sam said, looking away and trying to collect himself.
“There was blood everywhere, we weren’t even sure how you were alive at that point. Then you started hallucinating and went unconscious. We thought we lost you, God we were so scared.” He said, shedding a tear and quickly wiping it before it could drop.
“We rushed you to the hospital, not knowing if you were even alive and waited around for hours not hearing anything. Then the doctor came out and told us you were stabilized, but lost 35% of your blood. He said you should’ve died and that it was nothing less of a miracle.” He said as his voice cracked.
“You were in a coma for two weeks.” He explained quietly, knowing this was going to freak you out.
“I’ve been out for two weeks?!” You asked, hysterically.
“They said it could’ve been up to a couple months, we just weren’t sure when you’d wake up.” He said as you just stared blankly at him.
“We were so terrified to lose you. Dean even prayed a few times.” He finished. You both knew that Dean never prayed and he never believed that there was a God out there so the fact that it got to the point where Dean was praying, made you extremely emotional. The tears started streaming down your face.
“I’m so sorry Sammy, I should’ve known it was a trap.” You cried, feeling terrible and guilty that your brothers had to be put through something so traumatic because of your own mistake.
“Sweetheart, no, it’s not your fault. Me and Dean should’ve never left you alone with Adam. We weren’t thinking and it almost cost you your life.” Sam said, staring into your eyes and wiping your tears. Before you could say something back, the door opened. Dean, a few nurses and a doctor walked in. They checked your vitals and explained that you were going to be very weak for about a month. You had iron deficiency anemia due to the blood loss and it would take a long time for you to start feeling normal again. They left the room and Dean put the extra blankets that they brought in on top of you. The weight and coziness of the blankets made you immediately feel tired. Your brothers took notice and Dean kissed the side of your head.
“Get some rest kid, we’ll be here.” Dean reassured.
“Thank you for saving me.” You smiled softly looking between your brothers.
“Always.” Dean said as Sam grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
#dean winchester#dean winchester x sister!reader#spn#spn imagine#supernatural#supernatural imagine#dean winchester imagine#dean x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam x reader#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester sisfic#sam and dean#sam winchester x sister#sam winchester x sister reader#dean winchester sisfic#dean winchester x sister reader#dean winchester x sister#dean x sister reader#spnfandom#spn sister imagine#spn sister#spn fanfic#winchester sisfic#winchester sister
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I'm 90% certain that nandermo is happening and Nandor is writing to/calling/acting weird around the Guide because he wants to ask her about the possibility of a vampire becoming human.
Nandor's behaviour in 6x06 was too normal considering how riled up he was in 6x05. There's definitely something else going on with him that we're not being shown.
We've seen Nandor questioning his place and struggling to find a purpose this season. What was the one thing that gave him a newfound sense of purpose and happiness? A normal human job.
Unlike guidor, this storyline wouldn't come out of nowhere - we know Nandor thinks of vampirism as a curse and we saw Nandor searching for a way to become human when he joined Jan's cult back in season 3.
The Guide is their go-to for any vampiric history and magical knowledge. If anyone would know how to turn him human, it's her.
He wrote "Every time I call you I lose my nerve like a chicken for the slaughter". What would he be losing his nerve over? Making a huge decision like turning his back on vampirism?
We know there's no chance of Guillermo becoming a vampire, and the writers know it too. They've also made several comments in the past about the power dynamics between Nandor and Guillermo - which they broken down completely in the first half of this season. If they're going to go for it with Nandermo, this is the perfect way to go about it - separate them, put them on a more equal footing and throw a few red herrings into the mix before revealing that Nandor wants to turn human to be with Guillermo.
tl;dr: there's a 10% chance the writers have lost their minds and decided to throw two random characters with zero screen time together in the final season just to see all of us lose our minds too. There's a much higher chance that they know what they're doing and they'll give us a satisfying conclusion.
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Wasn’t going to go on a big rant but you know what since that other post is gaining traction yeah I think I will. So big long rant under the cut. Lolll
I feel like. A lot of people might tell me ‘it’s not that deep’ but to me it is that deep.
I don’t have a problem with JayVik or it’s shippers like. At all. I just think some of them are à really good demonstration of like. Every bad thing when it comes to fandom ever LMAO.
Once again I am (supposed to be) writing a whole big long essay about this already so I will try and keep this kind of short and sweet and it might be a bit lacking but wtvr.
I think a lot of JayVik fans tend to be white queer people. Someone left a tag on my OG post that said basically ‘my take is I’m a faggot and I don’t have to care about a character if I don’t want to’ and no hate to that person cuz you’re right, but this is exactly the kind of stuff that made me make that first post.
I feel like a lot of white queer people have an issue with seeing outside their own identity? If that makes sense? This is seen time and time again with the way some of them behave when big movements happen online, some have a tendency to centre themselves and whatnot so i think it’s kind of the same thing.
It makes total sense that a queer person would prefer queer ships and would prefer JayVik over MelJay, that is not a crime. But I do think part of that is because they can’t relate/identify with Mel or see themselves in her like they can with Jayce or Viktor.
I hate to also make it about feminism but i think a lot of you guys are super like. Male centred, like just in your attraction which once again, not the issue not a crime. But i think it’s also why CaitVi, which is a canon queer ship, although popular is still not quite as popular as JayVik despite being canon. Women fetishizing gay men in fandom is not something new, which I think might play a small part in it- I’ve seen a lot of people especially back in s1 infantilizing Viktor and acting like he had no agency or independence and that he NEEDS Jayce to take care of him (that’s another thing. Ableism(looks at you with my eyes)) and they also do the same thing with Jayce where they act like he had 0 agency with any decisions he makes and that he’s like a big dumb baby who doesn’t know anything politics. Hey, guys. That’s a grown man.
My main issue isn’t that people prefer JayVik over MelJay it’s just that some shippers demonize Mel to an insane degree, blame her for getting in the way of their ship (this is also happening right now with Maddie- there’s a leak going around saying that she gets with Caitlyn and people are so upset that this character is getting some INSANE hate and I feel like that’s the same thing going on.)
they blame her for ‘stealing’ Jayce etc etc like. Idk. You don’t have to ship MelJay but I wish more people would appreciate Mel just as a character- imo she is super interesting and has a great story but she’s only ever seen and ‘the other woman’. I’ve seen people say she isn’t like, well characterized and that her story entirely revolves around Jayce which. Yeah she’s definitely heavily involved with him in s1 but she’s clearly got a lot more going on than just that and you would know that if you GAF 🗣️🗣️
for just being. Who she is. I think Mel deserves more attention just in the fandom and it’s just frustrating. People making memes about Jayce going insane over Viktor leaving but like. Mel also just got fucking kidnapped guys. His lover has just vanished without a trace why is nobody also talking about that !!!! Why can’t he care about both these people at the same time !!!!!!!
Anyway I’m not nearly well equipped enough to talk more in-depth about like. Any of this but I do think the demonization of Mel and refusal to see her relationship with Jayce as it is can often times be boiled down to racism like straight up. And also things like the fetishization of gay men in fandom and just things like that are sometimes what can lead to female characters- even the well written ones to be shelved and pushed aside in favour of their male counterparts.
Obligatory ‘not all JayVik fans’ obviously a lot of you are awesome, shouldn’t have to say this. If I’m not aiming for you, you shouldn’t be getting shot.
#hope this doesn’t ruffle up too many feathers eek#I was scared to make the first post I was worried JayVik fans would come at me#also idgaf about whatever was going on in league that lore has been retconned again and again and again#and as far as I’m aware Viktor and Jayce didn’t even like eachother that much#league and arcane are very much separate identities#I’m p sure theyr changing the league lore to match wtvr is going on in arcane#if you prefer JayVik because it’s always been a thing that’s fine but that doesn’t excuse the mistreatment of a black female character#Y’know?#idk#nobody kill me for this#arcane#arcane spoilers#MelJay#Mel Medarda#jayce talis#I won balls
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On that topic though, I would like to touch more on the subject of Jimmy being also a victim to himself. I fear this might anger a lot of people, but Jimmy is an almost exact perfect example of someone with BPD (As someone with it myself) and how his spiralling is directly tied to Curly.
The game never once insinuates that Jimmy is like this because he's mentally ill, the line of him having it "hard" back on earth doesn't mean anything either, but it also means a lot coming from Curly. Curly is a representative of a Favorite person, and everything Jimmy did in the game, who he hurt, how he did it and the language he used, is very close to how real-life people with BPD sometimes treat their own FPs and the people around them.
They become erratic, jealous, driven by fear, apologetic, desperate and cling to everything and everything. Jimmy insults Curly, twists his words and makes him out the be the villain, he drives everyone away from him at the birthday party and spends months feeding lies to the others that Curly is the one that crashed the ship despite this lie not actually really benefitting Jimmy all that much in the long run.
Jimmy wanted to kill everyone on the ship, he could have lied and instead said that it was simply a fault of the ship, a miscalculation, an accident. Instead, he took every opportunity to make Curly out to be the one who ultimately decided that this was the best way to go about it, and then also blamed it on Curly's mental health dropping after being fired.
This is all extremely elaborate, and a very difficult lie to keep up with, as almost everyone on that ship has plenty of reasons to believe otherwise that Curly didn't crash the ship. What with Anya's psych eval of him being "the same as usual" and being sane enough to continue doing his job. Anya also trusted Curly enough to tell him about the pregnancy, and to also tell him about the gun. And even though it's not very well expressed in the game (possibly intentional since we are seeing through Jimmy's eyes.) She does trust Curly, and she probably continued to trust him even when all was wrong around her.
And Daisuke also has no real reason to distrust Curly, we don't know much about their relationship, but there was definitely a sense of trust and reliability between the both of them. This is also evident through Swansea and Curly, where Curly trusts him enough to hold onto the axe, despite being told to return it to the case as everything has to constantly run through him. He was taking risks, he was terrified of being abandoned, left behind in Curly's shadow. He was having fits of rage, outbursts of suicidal thoughts and harm to himself and to those around him.
Jimmy twisted and kept twisting that knife in an attempt to turn away everyone from Curly even when he was at his lowest to isolate and to make him cling to the only thing he had left; Jimmy.
This adds even more to Curly's eventual condition, being completely reliant on Jimmy, being completely subject to his will and power. And something that he even admitted to liking, he likes power. And he likes that the circumstances given, might not have turned out the best way, it gave Jimmy that power over Curly. Something he had been climbing for a long time, and something he so desperately wanted because he was sick and tired of hearing just how fantastic he was at something Jimmy wasn't.
And yet, despite all of this, Jimmy praised Curly. He hated how much he adored him, hated how much he idolised him. And even at the end of it all, his main focus was just Curly, making him out to be the hero of the story despite spending such a long time attempting to make him out to be the villain.
And then even further to make the situation out to be that he was also the hero of the story, that all of his actions were justified to some degree because it was all for Curly. He fixed it, he fixed everything for Curly. Because despite what he did to Anya, Swanse and Daisuke, his only real concern behind all of it was Curly.
Every hallucination leads to him, every goal, every path. He was so concerned with him, that even when it was directly in his face, the only apology he ever muttered was to Curly. Using Anya's words.
Our worst moments don't make us monsters.
Jimmy is a victim of only himself and the consequences of his own actions, and he is by far one of the better, unintentional examples of BPD.
#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing#mouthwashing swansea#mouthwashing daisuke#i hate to admit it but he is just. a really good example of bpd#bpd#just me yapping
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Okay I either just had the best or the worst idea on the topic of Crash That Helicopter and someone else has probably already had the same thought just better but.
What if Tommy regains consciousness and realises he's trapped and his chopper is basically toast, including his comms. But his phone is miraculously okay. So he calls 911.
Meanwhile at dispatch, Maddie is having the Worst Time with morning sickness and runs to the toilet every 10 minutes until Josh decides to force her to go home. But she refuses at first because Kevin and Sarah are both out with the flu and Jessica unexpectedly quit last week to follow her boyfriend of 5 weeks to Australia and now they're short staffed. But Josh tells her it's fine they'll figure it out and pretty much throws her out. He has a small breakdown because they are seriously short staffed but luck just so has it that one of the long term dispatchers walks through the door right then (Debbie perhaps?) with her friend who used to work here but quit years ago and now lives in Phoenix (was it phoenix? I don't quite remember) buy she wanted to see the new dispatch centre and say hi to some people. And in walks no other than Abby Clark.
And Josh is still spiralling a little and she immediately offers to fill in for a few hours it's really no problem she still works in dispatch after all and she knows the systems and she'd love to help. And Josh, stressed but grateful accepts and ushers her towards a free desk. And Abby gets to work right away and she definitely still got it, she does one or two simple calls absolutely flawlessly and then in comes the third call and the voice is familiar.
And that's how Abby takes Tommy's 911 call, and immediately dispatches the best unit she knows because of course.
And of course he also immediately recognises her even though he's kinda dizzy and losing blood. They start talking. Not really about them but light things because Abby needs to keep Tommy awake and he's fading so she tries to keep his attention. So she tells him she's sent the 118, they're his old house right, but lots of new faces, actually she used to date his replacement and then broke his heart by walking away from him. And he laughs kinda pained. Actually, so did he. She pauses for a moment, then demands clarification so Tommy starts talking. And he tells the whole story for the first time since the break up, including the reasons. Some of them he doesn't even mention because it's Abby. Abby who maybe knows him best in the whole world because she's known him at his worst and somehow still loved him.
And Abby listens. And when he's finally done she let's out a long sigh and calls him a dumbass. And then she gets to setting his head straight. She gives him a proper dressing down and gets to the bottom of it. And finally she asks him if he regrets it. Yes. If he loves Buck. If course he does. If he wants him back.... Yeah. So she tells him to work for it, to fight for them. And when she's done giving him a passionate little monologue about love and relationships silence falls.
She calls his name. No answer, only sirens in the distance.
She calls his name again, more frantically and he's still not replying and now she's in tears because they can't both break Buck's heart like that, one of them has to fucking fix it!
Meanwhile the 118 has been racing towards the crash site, Buck antsy but determined and refusing to stay by the rig and let Eddie and Ravi handle it. Tommy needs him.
When they finally arrive it's a complete nightmare, debris and fire everywhere and they're taking far too long to cut Tommy out. Long enough for the TV crews to arrive and start broadcasting the whole thing live.
So Abby, still on the line with an unresponsive Tommy, hoping, praying, is watching Taylor Kelly report live from the crash site where the firefighter have started ripping through the remains of the helicopter. Until Bobby steps in front of the camera and forces them to shut it off because he has no idea what they're going to find there.
Which is also why he eventually makes the decision to pull Buck back after all. Between Eddie, Ravi, Hen and Chim there are enough hands already anyway, they've got him, Buck.
So that's how Taylor Kelly, who's still a bit pissed at Bobby for ruining her news piece, watches Buck disappear between the engine and the ladder truck looking like his world is collapsing and he might be her ex but of course she still cares. It's Buck, how can you not care about him? So she follows him and finds him just as he's breaking down. And she has no idea what's going on, she simply pulls him into a hug and let's him cry it out.
And when he csn breathe again he tells her. That's the love of his life there. His name is Tommy and he dumped him three months ago after he asked him to move in. And they both smile weakly before he continues.
He never told him. He only ever told her, and he didn't lie, he promises but it's never felt like this. And he never told him that he loved him.
Loves him.
And she says that maybe he should do that now then and nods at something behind him.
And there are Chim and Hen and Ravi and Eddie running towards the parked vehicles, pushing a gurney. And there's Bobby yelling for Buck to come get his ass into the ambulance, they have to leave right now.
And Taylor smiles and wipes his tears away and gives him a push. Go. Go and fight and tell him what you told me.
And he does.
#911 abc#tommy kinard#evan buckley#bucktommy#abby clark#taylor kelly#And obviously Tommy probably Codes dramatically on the way to the hospital but they get him back with the power of family and friendship#And buck is making teary love confessions the entire way#And it's touch and go for a bit but Tommy makes it#And they make up and live happily ever after#The end
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Eternal Flame (6) - Call Your Mom
Jenna Ortega x Female Reader
Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.
Spotify playlist
Masterlist / First Part / Previous part
Word count: 7.5k
-Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason-
People around you were already dressed in warm clothing, wearing jackets and coats and warming up with coffee or tea or another hot beverage. Anyone who could spare the time seemed to stick around inside coffee shops or bars or any place that could offer any semblance of heat and cover from the morning cold. Compared to them you were fairly lightly dressed wearing only a thin long-sleeved shirt and jeans, you've kind of gotten used to the cold so this didn't bother you.
You still didn't order anything, instead you were just watching people going up to the baristas to take their orders and sitting down or just leaving for work or school or wherever. All the while, you were stuck here, with your suitcase next to you, and luckily it was for a rather pleasant reason. And the said pleasant reason just caught your eye as she walked right through the door.
Jenna came in with a man accompanying her. You did remember seeing him once when she needed to do an interview for her most recent movie, but since it was a busy day shooting you never got the chance meet him, but you definitely recognized him and you knew he was Enrique, her stylist. Almost instinctually you stood up which got her attention, because yeah, you stood out in the crowd for more than one reason. Your heart soared as Jenna, with a bright smile on her face pretty much ran up to you much to the amusement of her stylist.
She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tightly. You could feel the slight shivering of her body and it wasn’t caused by the cold as she was properly dressed. In fact the soft material of her long and warm coat kind of tickled you. No, you knew what the reason for hers shivering was and you felt it too “Hey,” she whispered softly in your ear, as if she just needed an excuse to have her lips close to your skin.
“We'll see each other again, you know,” you assured her, knowing that was the thing making her feel uncertain and worried about the future. You haven't really been a part of this industry for long and she was much more aware of how things worked, how easy it was to never see someone again. On the other hand, you had a living example of a man that kept in touch with plenty of his co-stars so if Hugh could do it so could you. And you would absolutely do it for Jenna.
“I know,” she said, but you could feel her relaxing as the man she came with approached with a fond smile on his face. How much did he know?
The fond smile turned into a teasing grin. “Well I'll be damned, I knew you were eager to see her, but I didn't know you were this eager! If I knew, I wouldn't have kept you at that shop earlier,” Enrique laughed, and you had to grin when you saw Jenna blushing. Jenna blushing was perhaps one of your favorite sights to see.
“Don't tell her that!” Jenna complained as she separated from you and turned to look at her stylist, which also helped her hide the blush from you, but you just patted her on the back.
“Come on, it's adorable,” you said with a bit of a teasing grin on your face. Did you feel slightly bad for teasing her with Enrique? Maybe, but she was just too adorable when she got embarrassed. You turned to Enrique and offered him your hand. “I don't think we're properly met, nice to meet you I am Y/N,” you said and were honestly surprised when he, instead of shaking your hand, pulled you in for a quick hug.
“Jenna’s been telling me a lot about you, so let's skip the formalities,” accepting this meeting was probably the best decision you could have made because you were hearing so much about what Jenna's been doing behind your back that even missing the plane would be worth it.
You turned to Jenna with the most obvious shit-eating grin on your face. “Is that so?” you nudged her lightly as she suddenly found her feet to be very interesting.
“Let's just order something already,” she mumbled and sat down before you could pull her chair out. Well, you figured that was what you got for teasing her as much as you did.
The three of you made your orders, classics really, tea and coffee, you and Jenna ordered tea and Enrique ordered coffee, an espresso to be precise.
“So, should I get to know you or just let the two of you hang out while I play the third wheel?” Enrique asked and now it was your turn to be embarrassed because this time he was teasing both of you. The truth was this meeting was entirely so you could meet Enrique, and say goodbye to Jenna, but she told you Enrique was curious and this was a good opportunity in her mind. So, you both knew you’d mostly be talking to Enrique this morning.
You ignored the embarrassment and looked him in the eye. “Ask away,” you grinned a bit, hiding the slight nervousness about what he could ask you. There weren’t many things he couldn’t hear from Jenna, and some of those really weren’t something you wanted to talk about.
Jenna groaned and lowered her head on top of the table and hid it behind her hands, but Enrique had his goal and he would accomplish it.
He was having too much fun with this though, and the growing grin on his face was enough of a proof of that. “So, Jenna told me a lot about you, like a lot a lot, but she hasn't told me anything about your previous role.”
You actually felt relief that he asked about that and not something else.
“Enrique, come on!” Jenna clearly didn't want to put you on the spot but you really had nothing to be put on the spot for. You could easily tell them about Logan.
“It’s okay, Jen,” you smiled at her and she seemed relieved, but also curious now. Why didn’t she just ask? “I was in Logan with Hugh Jackman, I played Laura, the X-23,” you just shrugged, kind of enjoying the shocked looks on their faces.
“Wait you were in the Logan?” Enrique asked and then turned to Jenna who was slightly confused, she recognized Hugh’s name, of course, but she wasn’t familiar with Logan. “The big superhero movie, the end of the X-Men, and Hugh Jackman's last time playing Wolverine. It was a big hit back in 2017, hell, for some it’s the best superhero movie ever made,” Enrique explained for you and you saw Jenna remembering the movie you both just told her about.
And that's when it clicked for her. “I remember hearing about it, and my brothers were crazy about it,” she turned to you kind of annoyed “You told me you didn't have a lot of speaking lines.”
You raised your hands in defense. “I didn't! I spent over an hour and a half not saying a single line and even when I start speaking it wasn’t often,” you laughed and it really was like that. Laura was silent for almost the entirety of the movie, to the point of her finally talking being one of the movie’s funniest scenes. You weren't sure anymore but you were fairly certain you didn't speak for the first ninety seven minutes of the movie and then you went into a Spanish rant. Those were good times, and a very fun day on the set.
“Unbelievable,” Jenna shook her head but you could see the smile on her face giving away that she wasn't as annoyed as she was pretending to be.
“Damn that explains the action scenes you told me about,” Enrique told Jenna and then pointed at you “She was doing crazy things in that movie,” he then turned back to you “Was that a stunt double or did you actually do it?”
“No stunt double, I did it all, from jumping on top of the car to jumping over Hugh to fight scenes,” of course all of it was made possible with the ropes and the equipment and all the other things that make superhuman stuff look like the way it does. You remembered just how fun it was to do those stunts, you were a kid, excited to have Wolverine claws and act with Hugh and Patrick. Acting in Logan actually got you into martial arts because you had to take some classes and then you just continued.
Sometimes, you thought that was both a blessing and a curse.
Not that you blamed being on Logan for what happened and what's happening to you because you were absolutely certain that one way or another you would find yourself in martial arts. It would only be a matter of time.
“Guess I know what movie to watch when I get home,” Jenna still seemed annoyed that you didn't tell her any of this before and you just laughed.
~X~
About two hours later the three of you came to the airport and this was it, this was the moment you would go your separate ways. Her and Enrique were going back to California and you were going back to Denver. Jenna didn't want it to happen, she honestly just wanted to spend more time with you, to actually watch Logan with you and not just on her own or with someone from her family. She wanted to see your first movie with you. You were checking your ID and well you looked cute as you lightly chewed on your bottom lip. Were you as nervous as she was about separating? She hoped you were, she wanted to believe that, while she couldn't be sure if you liked her back, you weren't immune to her.
So, and ignoring Enrique’s teasing grin and everything he would be saying to her when they get on the plane, she stepped in front of you and put her hand on you own pushing it down so you would look away from your ID and look at her. “So, I've been thinking. I don't really want to watch Logan alone,” she should have been more direct about it.
You nodded, completely misunderstanding. “Oh, yeah, that's fine. I know superhero movies aren't your thing,” you missed the point you oblivious adorable dumbass.
“That's not what she wants, Y/N,” Enrique laughed and she couldn’t help it, she turned around and stuck her tongue out at him, which just made him laugh harder.
Jenna rolled her eyes at the antics of her stylist and dear friend. “What I meant is, how about you come by my place when you get the time? You know, meet my family and we can watch it together, because I really want to see you,” in more ways than one, she wanted to see you in that movie and she wanted to see you in person, and she wanted so much more from all of this between the two of you.
Jenna wanted you to meet her family, she wanted them to love you as much as she did, and she wanted to watch you get close to them. And maybe if you didn't have any other plans maybe you would come and visit during the holidays, depending on how your own family would react to that.
In her overthinking mind she already pictured meeting your own parents, wondering if you looked more like your mother or your father, or if you were just a combination of the two, and hopefully making a good impression on them. Maybe your parents could come with you one day and meet her parents and siblings and things would go from there.
It was way too fast, way too naïve, she knew that, but there was just something in your eyes that told her she wasn't rushing. That it could very well be the future between you, because that's how softly you were looking at her.
She watched as you swallowed hard and cleared your throat as if fighting something, some emotion that she couldn't exactly put her finger on and then you nodded. “Yeah,” your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat once more. “Yeah, I'd love that,” you said and she didn't understand why you got nervous, but she could tell it wasn't because of meeting her family or spending time with her. It was something else, something you weren't ready to share with her yet, and just perhaps it was related to where you were about to go all those weeks ago.
She’d keep those thoughts to herself for now. “I need to catch a plane, we’ll talk over the phone, OK?” she reached up, cupped your cheek and brushed her thumb across it. “Y/N,” she whispered your name as softly as she possibly could and rose up to her toes as you leaned down. Yet, at the last moment, she just changed her mind and instead of kissing you on the lips she just kissed your cheek. “Have a safe flight, and text me when you get home,” it was actually incredibly endearing how you just froze at the kiss even after she kissed you on the lips in that unscripted scene.
“Of course,” you stammered, and Jenna reluctantly pulled away from you while doing everything in her power to ignore how Enrique was looking at her
“Bye,” she waved back at you and left because missing a plane wouldn't be the best decision she could make right now. Even if she wished she could stay with you or just take you along.
~X~
Hugh was going to have a blast with this. You actually went and did the same thing he did! You fell in love with your co-star on your first role as an adult! Well that was one way to restart the career.
The apartment building you lived in was, for the lack of better term, pretty old but with sturdy and thick walls. Unlike those damn walls that allowed Mikey to figure out your and Jenna’s late-night hang-outs. But it was fairly close to the industrial areas so it was cheap as fuck and probably didn’t have the cleanest air, but you were honestly fine with that. It's been your home since you were about sixteen and a half years old.
You could move out, but given that you were restarting your career and that the gym you were working for wasn't that far away from here you just felt no need to do so. Besides it was a safe neighborhood, and as much as there were some other issues with it you never had to worry about Barbara getting mugged or anything close to that happening, when she visited you.
In fact, the only person threatening the security of your apartment was probably already inside it.
You climbed up the stairs because there was no elevator in the building and just as you suspected the doors were unlocked. “Best friend turned burglar says what?” you yelled from the doors. Cheers for thick walls, you could yell all you wanted.
“What?” Barbara predictably responded and peeked into the hall from the living room with a frying pan in her hand.
“What were you about to do with that?” you asked, more amused than anything and placed the suitcase down by the doors.
“Well, I didn't know if it was you or someone I didn't want to see, which is, you know, anyone but you,” she pouted and rubbed the bottom of the pan. “This baby was going to protect me,” you approached her and swiftly stole the pan right off her hands.
“This baby?” you asked with a smirk that you knew annoyed the hell out of Barbara.
“Not fair, I wasn't ready,” she huffed and tilted her chin up feigning the anger.
The poorly concealed grin gave her away.
“Ha! Like you ever are,” you took the pan back to the kitchen and went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. “You know you could have just locked the doors,” you told her.
“Yeah, but then you would have to unlock your own door and that just doesn't feel welcoming after coming back home after two months,” her logic was flawed but she believed it wholeheartedly.
“That is exactly the scenario someone wants when they know their apartment should be empty!” you pulled out your phone from your pocket and quickly sent a message to Jenna saying you were back home and safe and sound and then for good measure you just snapped a picture of Barbara and sent it to Jenna.
“And this is the nuisance I found at home. Can you believe my luck? I wouldn't be surprised if she actually spent the two months at my apartment because that's just the way she is,” you were recording a voice message for Jenna just so Barbara would know for sure you were saying that about her.
“Lies! All lies! Y/N loves having me around,” Barbara denied and you kind of forgot to stop recording.
“You do know having someone around also means being there with them, and not in another state while you crash as their apartment, right?” you asked, dryly and if you weren’t used to Barbara being like this your eye would have probably started twitching by now.
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say babe,” she laughed, and you just sighed and shook your head at that and run your fingers through your hair. It never crossed your mind just how much of the conversation Jenna would actually get. You intended just the first bit to be sent, but you unknowingly ended the message right after Barbara called you ‘babe’.
“I'm so lucky to have you as a best friend,” you didn't even bother going to the kitchen and instead just walked around the apartment, noting all the chores that would need to get done. There really was no point in going to the kitchen, as there was probably nothing there. Knowing Barbara, even if she did bring something along, she ate it out of nervousness, so the kitchen was barren and free from any source of nourishment.
“You absolutely are,” Barbara wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for an one-armed hug. “I missed you, bestie!”
“It's good to see you too, Barb,” you eventually relented and admitted that you did miss her too. It has been two months and over the years you got annoyingly used to having Barbara in your life. “So, want to grab an early lunch, I'm starving,” you suggested without really having any specific food you were craving at the moment.
“Skipped breakfast?” she half asked half stated and you just shrugged. You had a piece of toast or something this morning. And you had a cup of tea. Could that be considered a breakfast? Well, you figured it depended on who you asked.
“Please tell me you ate well while you were filming,” Barbara had this stern look on her face and you actually smiled at that.
“I did actually. Well Jenna got me into a habit of having a breakfast with her, so I couldn't exactly skip it,” you were smiling because the memories of those days were pleasant but also because you knew knowing that would make Barbara happy.
She knew you sometimes struggled to take care of yourself. You’d just forget a meal or push yourself too hard. The loss of your parents did that to you. “I’m really going to thank that girl for doing something I couldn't,” Barbara said and pulled you into a hug, a proper one this time. “Keep doing that, alright, Y/N? Or I'll have to just steal your phone and call your girl and make her scold you.”
“You are never unlocking my phone,” you laughed at the empty threat, but the idea of getting Jenna involved in your issues truly bothered you.
“Yeah, sure, you know you have the most cliche password imaginable,” she poked you on the shoulder as the two of you have slowly made your way back out of the apartment, this time locking it.
“So, what is it?” you challenged her.
“It's my birthday!” she said with so much confidence you just burst out laughing, as she stood there, all proud and with her hands on her hips.
“I don't even know when your birthday is off the top of my head!” You were lying, you both knew it, but she asked for it! Your password actually wasn't her birthday, but you admired the guts to say it so confidently.
Barbara laughed and began going down the stairs. “Yes, you do know it, and I know you do. And if I tell you what your password is you're just going to change it, so no you're not getting that out of me,” all the while she kept being a few steps ahead of you and almost bouncing her feet excited to have you back once more.
You faked a sigh and looked up toward the ceiling. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Hopefully take me out for a nice meal and pay for it,” she supplied and you figured that would work, and you knew just the place you could take her to.
~X~
Perhaps the most important person in your life, even more important than Barbara, was Hugh. And he made sure to reciprocate that almost family-like relationship. It came easy to both of you, he adopted his children, and you were an orphan for a few years now so the idea of a family bond that wasn't defined by blood wasn't strange to either of you. You've never called him ‘dad’ and he never called you his child but that was the kind of bond you had. You kept turning to him ever since you met him on Logan, and having him in your life was something you were incredibly thankful for.
And getting back into the industry and realizing how hectic and busy everything was just made Hugh’s dedication to keeping in touch with you and always checking up on you stand out even more.
Even though it happened almost four years ago the memory of your panic attacks and everything you did back then was still fresh in your mind.
~X~
‘Worthless piece of shit! You couldn’t do anything!’ those were the only thoughts going through your mind as you pounded the punching back again and again not even caring enough to put on gloves or anything that would protect your knuckles. You just kept punching and punching until your hands hurt and then some more.
The heavy chains you locked the door with when you entered the gym dropped onto the floor and the doors opened behind you but you just kept punching letting all the frustration out.
“Y/N! Hey, wait! Stop, just stop it!” Hugh grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you back and you didn’t know what stopped you from twisting around and slamming your fist into him.
“Hugh, let me go!” you yelled, demanding, close to breaking as your voice cracked and you still tried to reach for the bag and keep hitting it as if that would change anything about what happened.
“This won't help anyone,” he lowered his tone almost to a whisper, but you heard the pain in his voice loud and clear. “Listen to me, Y/N, this won't help anyone. Not your parents and especially not you,” he managed to pull you back just enough to get between you and the bag and just hugged you. And you finally unclenched your fists, the stinging sensation being almost too much as your hands trembled and drops of blood ran down your fingers. You absolutely messed up your knuckles but that was the least of the pain you felt.
“I can't change anything!” you gasped, burying your face in his chest and clutching at the collar of his shirt. “I'm not- I can't!” you were spiraling out of control, you couldn’t focus, you couldn’t breathe. You felt like you were choking, like you were being pulled under the water and just couldn't come up for air. The chains that kept the doors of the gym locked felt light compared to all the chains holding you down at the moment
“Let it out, I’m right here,” he whispered, patting you on the back. “We'll figure out a way, don't lose hope yet,” he tried to be strong for you, but you just broke right then and there and you wailed sobbing and crying on the verge of a panic attack that only his presence seemed to postpone. You lost count of just how many times Hugh pulled you back right from the brink of despair, but not even he could have prevented everything.
Or maybe he could have, if you approached him and told him what you intended to do.
~X~
The only reason you could help Jenna back when she had her own panic attack was because of how many times you went through them yourself. Sometimes on your own, sometimes with Hugh there to help you, sometimes with Barbara there to watch helplessly because how could she not be helpless? She was the same age as you and just lacked the experience to be able to do anything about it.
A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts and you hoped to your feet, happy to see Hugh again after probably close to four months. Sure, you kept in touch, you texted and you talked over the phone, but it's still been a long time since you've seen each other face to face.
You opened the door and immediately got swept into a warm, strong hug, one you happily returned. “Looking good kid! I'm proud of you!” Hugh patted you on the shoulders and actually ruffled your hair. You would normally get annoyed by that, but you were just happy to see him and grinned, inviting him in and leading him to the living room where you already had some snacks and drinks ready.
“Right back at you! It's good to see you again, Hugh, though you really shouldn't have knocked. From the looks of it no one that comes in here knocks,” you laughed, although you were seriously considering not even locking the doors when you leave the place. After all, there was basically nothing worth taking, the only things worth anything really were your laptop and phone, and you often carried them with you. But other than those two things you just had a full equipped kitchen, a simple bedroom and living area and not a single piece of furniture in here cost a lot or was worth the trouble of taking it all the way down the stairs.
Funny how money not helping when it mattered made it seem worthless now that you once more had plenty of it.
“Talk! I want to hear everything about filming Scream,” Hugh looked ecstatic over the news that you were once again back in the industry, and you knew why. Well, there were plenty of reasons, first of all he thought you were one hell of a talented actress, seeing as he had the chance to work with you when you were just a kid, but perhaps more importantly he believed that going back to acting would pull you away from underground fights.
Maybe it would. After all Jenna did stop you.
Maybe you could hope that was your ticket out of that world.
“You are going to laugh about this, but I kind of did the same thing you did. I fell in love on the set,” you admitted though you felt extreme embarrassment over saying it out loud.
Like you predicted, Hugh laughed like a lunatic, and you were actually happy to hear him laughing like that. It's been way too long since you managed to pull that kind of laugh out of him. “Jenna, right? That's what you said her name is?” and of course he knew exactly who you were talking about and you just nodded.
“She's just incredible,” you paused, searching for the right words, as if any word could properly describe her. “She’s perfect. I have no words- she is-“ you were just saying things hoping your words would eventually form a proper sentence. “You know, you have to meet her! She's the kindest, most wonderful, and honest, and genuine person I have met in a long, long time,” in the end you managed to put what you thought and felt into words.
Hugh had this gentle smile on his face as he looked at you. “You got it that bad, huh? I'm happy for you, Y/N.”
“Say, you mentioned the movie you wanted to tell me about,” you knew you were changing the subject, too embarrassed to talk about Jenna. You honestly weren’t exactly eager to get that talk from Hugh even though you probably needed one right about now.
Hugh’s smile morphed into a grin that told you he knew exactly what you were doing but he went along with it. “Alright hear me out, you and I in a movie, playing father and daughter. How about that?”
You actually laughed at that. “Isn't that the same thing we did like seven years ago?” that was exactly the relationship you had in Logan and well if you could act with Hugh once again you would absolutely take the chance, but it was funny that you would be cast in a father daughter relationship again. That is if you accept it and then try to get the role and then you get cast in the role.
“I know, but I think you’ll like this one,” he set the script on the table and pushed it toward you so that's how it happened you accepted the script and set it aside to read tonight. The rest of the day you and Hugh spent on catching up on everything that happened over the past few months.
~X~
The late November rain didn’t surprise you much, even if Denver was really sunny. You were just about to fall asleep on your sofa, honestly feeling kind of numb. What day was it anyway? It’s been a few days since Barbara left to see her parents for Thanksgiving, so you’ve been on your own since whenever that happen. Your phone buzzed a few times in your pocket. You were tempted to ignore it, but it might be for the role you auditioned for, the one Hugh mentioned. Work would probably get your mind off things, but it wasn’t work.
It was better. Much better than work.
You smiled when you saw it was a message from Jenna, on Instagram. You opened it and saw it was a couple of photos, one of just Jenna, giving you a thumbs up while holding a piece of icy wind cake and text on the photo saying ‘You’ve got competition.’ You chuckled, figuring her mom made the cake, the second photo was of her family all posing for a family photo and having a Thanksgiving dinner. Damn, so it actually was Thanksgiving tonight.
21:54 Jenna Ortega: Happy Thanksgiving, Y/N! Thanks for the recipe by the way, my family loves it. ❤️❤️
You smiled, she looked really happy in the photos. And her family was huge, she told you, of course, but hearing and seeing a photo were two entirely different things. You still focused on her, on that brilliant, happy smile.
21:56 Y/N L/N: Thanks, Jen, happy Thanksgiving to you too. Save me a piece of cake?
You set the phone aside and figured you could at least drink something, only to remember your fridge was mostly empty at the moment. You really needed to go and get groceries. At least there was some strawberry juice in the fridge and some improvised pasta. Damn, you actually had to make an improvised pasta dish, of all the known recipes you ended up making some improvised abomination. Oh well, at least it was tasty.
22:03 Jenna Ortega: Come and get it Chef. Any chance you could give me a tiny sneak peak into your own dinner?
Well, now that was a tough task to complete. Still, it actually brought a smile to your face. It was almost funny how something as simple as texting Jenna made you feel so much better.
22:05 Y/N L/N: Sure
You snapped a photo of a glass of strawberry juice and sent it to her.
22:06 Jenna Ortega: Come on! Don’t tease me 🥺
You actually laughed at that, you could imagine to look of disappointment on her face.
22:06 Y/N L/N: I’m not, I didn’t make anything, I kinda forgot about Thanksgiving.
You noticed Jenna saw the message and set the phone aside when she didn’t respond. She hadn’t seen her family in roughly two months, hell, she had her eighteenth birthday away from them, so you figured she wanted to spend time with them.
But just as you got up to read the script Hugh left you once more, your phone began ringing and you raised an eyebrow seeing it was Jenna. You picked up and sat back down on the sofa. “L/N Delivery, how may I help you?” you said as professionally as you could with a grin on your face and heard Jenna inhaling sharply before laughing.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said through laughter.
“Yeah, and you love it,” you said confidently making Jenna pause.
For a moment you feared you overstepped some boundary. “I do, don’t I?” she said a bit out of breath and just for a moment she even sounded playful, and you nearly choked on the sip of strawberry juice you just took. “Anyway, how come you forgot?” she quickly changed the subject.
“I lost track of dates, and no one reminded me,” you told a half-truth, you knew it was this week, but you did lose track of the days and dates. “How are you? Are you having fun with your family?”
You could almost hear her nodding and smiled, the chatter of the people in the background wasn’t nearly as loud as you expected, so she probably stepped aside. “It feels so good to be with my family again, I missed them all,” you guessed she glanced back at her family. “I had to do the dished today, and let me tell you, there was a lot,” she wasn’t even complaining, she actually sounded happy.
“Reeree, come on! Talk on your phone later!” you heard a female voice shouting and guessed Jenna was the one being called.
“It’s important!” Jenna yelled back and you felt the warmth engulfing you at that.
“Hey, we can talk later, go have fun,” you told her softly, knowing by now that she just called you to check up on you.
Jenna paused and you waited patiently as she made the decision. “When are you going to come here?” she asked.
“In a week,” you told her, while you and Jenna knew you’d visit her and meet her family, which was, to be honest, a bit frightening, you didn’t know when you would be able to come until a few hours ago, you just didn’t get the chance to tell Jenna about it. It was still only Thursday, so you didn’t think you needed to rush to tell her.
“Okay, I’ll see you then. Are you sure you don’t want to keep talking with me?” she still offered.
“I want you to have a good time and make up for being away from your family,” you assured her. You would never, in your most fever-induced dreams, tell her you didn’t want to talk to her, but you knew how much she missed her family, and you didn’t want to take away from her time with them tonight.
“Okay, sleep well,” she told you slowly, as if giving you one last chance to ask her to keep talking to you, but you remained committed to the decision that you made.
As much as you wished to keep talking to her, you knew you had to let her be with her family. “You too,” you were worried about her insomnia, and you could only hope she could fall asleep and not have troubles with it while she was back home.
Somewhat shaken out of your stupor by Jenna’s call and texts you opened the fridge again. Still, just as you were about to figure out how to celebrate Thanksgiving given the lack of food and drink in your fridge, your door slammed open and the first thing that hit you was the smell of homemade food. “Barbara if that's you I swear I'm going to kick your ass!” you yelled because there was no way a burglar just broke into your house that loudly and was smelling like food.
“Jokes on you my ass was already kicked by the bus I had to sit in! They didn't have the heating on my! My ass is ice!” yup, definitely Barbara. “Turn the heating on, Y/N, or I'll freeze to death and you'll be to blame,” she was actually shivering so off you went to turn the heating on and then you just stared at her, blinking, not sure if you should believe your eyes and ears and nose or just the logic that she should be with her family right now.
“Don't look at me like that I got tired of talking sports with my family. What? Did I say talking? I meant listening about it!” she pointed a finger at you, but then changed her mind and hugged herself to warm up. “And your sorry ass didn't even turn the heating on until I came here, so you should thank me for not freezing yourself. So, win-win for both of us!” she just sat down and dropped the bag filled with food next to her. And this was your life right now.
And you wouldn't trade it for anything, except maybe adding Jenna and Hugh to this as well.
But you figured this was pretty much perfect as it was.
“You're the best, Barb,” you whispered, desperately hoping she didn't hear you.
“I heard that! Say it again so I can record it and keep it to cheer me up I will play it on repeat, I will put it as my ringtone, I will keep it as the soundtrack of my life 24/7, now repeat what you said so I can forever remind you of it,” sometimes you wondered which one of you was an actress because damn did Barbara have a knack for being dramatic.
“I will never say it again,” you denied her the opportunity to have that kind of proof against you. Your pride would not survive it.
“Oh, come on, you know you think that! I know you do think I'm the best,” she kept pushing but you remained firm in your conviction not to ever again repeat those words to her, or well not forever, more like until she put her phone down.
With a pout she did put her phone down and you glanced at it seeing the recording was still on and you just winked at her. You were not about to say it.
“Spoil sport,” she turned the recording off and tossed the phone aside and you glanced at it seeing that the app was definitely closed so you walked up to her because you could never be too careful with her, leaned in from behind and whispering in her ear
“You're the best, Barb,” and instead of being thankful as every friend should be she just went and glared at you because you denied her of the right to record those words.
~X~
Several nights later you woke up in cold sweat as you usually did near the start of December. You set up, breathing heavily and barely holding back a scream of frustration as that same nightmare that plagued you over and over again every time the anniversary of their deaths came close plagued you once more tonight.
You looked outside the window. It was dark, completely dark outside and you knew you wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, and not even knowing what time it was you just slipped out of the bed, put on your coat and boots and just ran down the stairs into the street. It was empty, without even the drunks going back to their homes from another night of drinking, so it must have been really late, or really early but from the looks of it the Sun wasn't going to come up anytime soon.
You just began running, you ran like you were being chased by the nightmare that woke you up. You ran through the snow, the chances of slipping and falling not even crossing your mind for one moment. You were running toward the gym, knowing you could unlock and use it even this late at night. So, you rushed down the streets until you finally reached the doors and looked under the rug for the key. As usual it was there so with shaky fingers you unlocked it and step stepped inside hoping you could work out and exhaust yourself, thus working through all the emotions and tension within you. As if you were drawn to it, you went for the punching bag and you touched it like it was your oldest friend, as if the mere touch against the cold punching bag would start calming you down. For a moment it did, it did calm you down long enough to put the gloves on and then you began punching the bag as strong and fast as you could.
‘Do it, unplug them’ the decision that you made still haunted you. Those four simple words still ruined you almost four years after you spoke them to the doctor. And it wasn’t just those words, it was the fact that every single time you thought back to those words you were left wondering if you made that decision too early. You wondered if you could have pushed yourself just for a bit longer.
You weren't sure for how long you kept hitting the bag, you just knew the intensity and the speed of your punches kept decreasing gradually, until you just felt your like your hands were made of iron and you dropped them to your sides unable to keep going.
And then you just sat down, leaning your back against the wall and looking at the bag. It just wasn't enough, you got exhausted, sure, but it wasn't enough. It couldn't put your mind off it. It just wasn't good enough to be a stress relief.
You stayed like that for some time, just rewinding those events in your head until the doors opened and you saw Davis, the owner of the gym and the man who sent you the message about the event as he called it, walking in.
“Morning kid, figured you would pop up sooner or later,” he said dismissively while picking up the gloves you tossed at your side.
The laugh you let out was hollow. “Am I that predictable? I could have quit since I didn't show up last time,” you mattered but you both knew the truth and more importantly you knew he would say it.
“Why should I bother? I know how you are, I know you can't quit it. You skipped one fight, sure, but from the looks of it you'll be back for the next one, won't you, Y/N?” you hated that he was right. You hated that you thought you had the chance to quit, that you could find another solution only to run back right into this one.
“Yeah, when's the next one?” you asked, hating yourself even more for continuing this cycle.
There was a satisfied smirk on his face, and normally you would be annoyed with that, but the realization that you didn’t have the strength to quit underground fighting shattered your will to complain. “Tonight, actually. Same old place,” it was settles. There was no need to pick you up from somewhere there wasn’t a need to do anything but tell you when to show up and unlike last time there wasn't anyone there to stop you.
Jenna wasn't here to stop you.
So, tonight you will go and fight your stress and regrets away.
And if the guilt eats you up from the inside, then so be it.
How come you never thought of Jenna’s dad being a cop? Or how Jenna and her family finding out would affect your friendship?
In the desire to escape from the past you damn near ruined your future.
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