#everyone deserves love chapter 13 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 2 months ago

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…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. he's more sensitive than he looks.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing wc. 3.5k author’s note. just wanna say a big thank u to everyone that stuck w this story and loved it along w me. there's still one chapter left, so here's some mini angst before our little happy ever after. also, i've recently realized that nothing actually happens in this story. there's no plot. you just hang out with gojo and the rest. that's it. no great fights or conflict or anything. just spending time with him.

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CHAPTER 13: the hakone incident

you wake up smothered in an embrace, which isn't uncommon.

what is slightly more uncommon is that gojo is wound around you so tightly that even his dumb, big paw has got your breast held hostage. not much there to sink his claws in, yet sunk they are, still. you wiggle and grasp and dig, trying to extricate yourself from this prison, but the soft fabric that rubs against his crotch with every small movement has him hissing in your ear.

“sa-”

“mine,” is the first thing he mumbles, words laced with sleep. he cradles you tighter, hides his face in your hair. you pat his arm, ignoring his sleep-addled state.

some sort of half-coherent mumble is slurred into your pillow as a response.

“not gonna bother translating that,” you utter under your breath – it’s too early to be irritated with him, and he doesn’t deserve it also, since he is much too cute. however, “lemme go? i need to go to the bathroom.”

“no,” he stubbornly refuses.

“don't be like that.”

a soft groan, then a kiss to the exposed curve of your neck, and one more to the edge of your ear. his fingers twitch at the flesh, kneading and tickling, “fine, i need to go too. let's go together.”

“you wanna hold hands while i'm in the stall or something?”

“yes.”

he is unreasonable, but that’s hardly a surprise.

you disentangle your legs from his, untying his arms from your torso, then turning to sit up properly. instantly, your stomach flips. in the bleak, early sunlight, gojo is the first thing you focus on, sleep-dazed and smiling lovingly in your direction. cheeks creased and swollen with grogginess, hair a complete mess, eyes still crusted. you wipe a drop of drool from the corner of his mouth with your thumb.

once, he told you that he always sleeps the best when you’re sleeping next to him. maybe that’s why he’s so clingy, “morning.”

“yeah?” he mutters. one hazy eye blinks, then the other, and you can’t help grinning at the sight, “hi. hello. good morning, how are you? ‘m just the guy you're looking for, can i be of service?”

you try so hard to press your lips into a thin line, but instead they stretch more and more, “c'mon, up. long day ahead.”

you had expected to take the morning train to hakone, but instead, with your bags dutifully carried by a lanky idiot, you are led to sleek, black car parked inconspicuously close to jujutsu technical. suspiciously, you eye the tinted windows of the driver’s seat, expecting a personal chauffer – which would be way too much, but also quintessential gojo. when the car keys jingle in his hand, you blink stupidly, smothered under the sunlight.

“you have a license?” you blurt.

“yeah,” gojo says smugly, opening the trunk and dumping the bags inside, “to kill.”

“the circus must be missing their clown,” you state sharply, though you feel a bit silly for not knowing such a thing about the man you have spent 3 years hating and a few months liking enough to be willingly glued to his side.

he snorts, fixing his glasses and shutting the trunk. all suave and cool, he opens the passenger’s door for you, “got any red lipstick in that little purse of yours? could kiss my nose a bunch of times, see if it honks after.”

the urge to shove your elbow into his stomach and watch how he doubles over in pain is almost too tempting, but you resist. after all, you do have the mind to enjoy the view of his flexing arms as you enter the vehicle, the sight disappearing as he circles around to enter from the other side.

the interior smells nice and new – it’s definitely expensive, but your knowledge of cars begins and ends in that they have four wheels and roll fast when you press a pedal. you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off his person, especially as his hand glides along the steering wheel. it takes a few moments of useless fiddling and some gears shifting until he begins driving. his hand seats itself upon your thigh, as though it had always been its intention.

“seatbelt,” he reminds, easily maneuvering out of the parking lot.

you slide the black band across your chest, buckling the lock, “thanks,” he mutters, palming your leg for good measure, “safe and sound.”

then, he slams the accelerator so quick and hard you're thrown back into the plush seat. the car screeches like a furious beast wrongfully insulted, engine purring loudly as its owner cackles. oh no.

here is where you learn that gojo is a terrible driver, as the speed limit is more of a loose guideline and traffic laws do not exist. he speeds past red lights that have you clutching the handlebar for your dear life, and he seems to delight in your mortified expression each time his eyes stray from the road, which is too much to be considered safe.

miraculously, you make it past the confusing and intricate tokyo streets in one piece and breathe a little easier. that is until you get to the highway, and he zooms between lanes like he’s playing a video game, jumping between cars and testing the limits of your patience to a level so extreme that you can hardly take it.

“could you slow down a little?” your voice has acquired a tremble, and you must be paler than you have been when you awoke. you think he’ll ignore you over the music, but he doesn’t.

he eases up just a little, and you remove your hand from the handlebar. it’s numb and tingly and aches from holding so tightly.

“i have some cds in the back,” he says, pinching your thigh. you think he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this, but unfortunately, it’s comforting, so you allow it. if you crash, you decide you will grab him and shield yourself with his body – his infinity will stop the impact, and you’ll probably live.

you twist and dig around, and once the cds are safely in your lap, your brows shoot up, “kat-tun?”

his lips stretch into a cheeky smile, and all of his grievances are forgiven with that, “they have a few good songs.”

“all of their songs are good!” you defend hotly. still, today is proving to be one surprise after the other – did he seriously listen to their whole discography because it’s your favorite band? if yes, that is very sweet. if he’s lying, well, you will not fight for the truth, because this has made you happy.

you change the music with barely contained enthusiasm and hum along. your initial impression must’ve been wrong, because gojo knows what he’s doing. he always does, and you reward him with a sweet smile for all of his efforts, which inspires him to lean for a kiss that nearly steers you both off the highway.

the first place you visit in hakone is not the hotel room gojo has rented, but the mall. you locate an expensive-looking restaurant and order your lunch – you, something modest and normal, and he enough to feed a family of seven. it’s always mildly fascinating to watch him chow down like his life depends on it, if not a bit off-putting.

“no one’s gonna take it from you,” you tell him when he slurps a noodle and almost chokes.

he glares at you over his shades, “shut up, ‘m hungry.”

you try to steal a piece from his bowl but he jabs your hand with chopsticks seemingly with the intention to break through skin. you yelp and shy away, wounded and afraid. he doesn’t even seem sorry.

he makes it up to you by treating you to coffee and a slice of cake, which he devours after you had a tiny bite. this is becoming a problem, but he looks very happy and doesn’t let go of your hand, planting quick, small kisses on the place he hurt, so you, once again, forgive him, as is the standard of your relationship.

shopping is next, and he steers you to each and every boutique that even marginally catches your attention. you pile everything you like on his arms, as though he was your personal assistant, and he, surprisingly, doesn’t complain. for the first half of you maxing out his card, he was stood outside the dressing room like a guard dog, shuffling back and forth, back and forth, waiting for you to pull back the curtain and reveal yourself so he could supply you with a verdict, which was always, without fault, “we’re buying that.”

he grew bored, though, and started whining that his feet hurt. invited himself inside and sat on the small chair in the very corner of the cramped space, very attentive when you changed in and out of your clothes. he even helped with the zippers and the buttons, and eventually, he got a boner from all this touching, so you had to stay for another good 10 minutes till he calmed down.

the blaring white lights, and you sweating. you stare at him, disappointed. he looks mildly uncomfortable, squirming in his seat and trying not to look at you, the mountain of clothes you discarded heaped on his lap.

“what am i gonna do with you?” you wonder aloud with a small sigh.

“i can’t help it. you’re hot.”

by the end of it all, you have acquired new perfume, a new set of luxurious makeup, and too many clothes to know what to do with. he carries your bags without you having to ask and leads you to get new underwear, but you make him wait outside the shop for that since you’re not risking another incident again.

when evening dwindles into night, he suggest a car ride around the city. the ocean breeze ruffles your hair when you roll down the window to admire the watercolor sights around you – the buildings, the people, the greenery, the mountain peak pitch black against the backdrop of the sky. you drive around aimlessly, and he's more subdued and mindful of the signs and the blinking traffic lights, his hand leaving your body only when he needs to switch gears. it always comes back with a little knead, and it always makes you smile.

“look, they're preparing for the festival,” you tell him as you pass by a closed off street of decorated stalls and convenience stores that look like they have been closed for the night, with two police men stationed across the entrance.

“you've ever been to lake ashinoko?” he questions idly.

“nope,” you turn another corner, the streets a little quieter, “it has the big torii gate, right?”

“yeah,” gojo hums, “we'll go there to watch the fireworks,” he seems distracted, “pretty stuff.”

“looking forward to it,” you reply, too interested in a display of colorful confectionary and sweets to decipher the tone of his voice, “where are we heading to?”

“dunno,” he mutters, knuckles slowly relaxing, “just around. you wanna head back?”

“nah,” you glance at him, a brow arched in curiosity. he looks oddly flushed. “you seem a little tired. wanna stop?”

“always worried about me,” he clicks his tongue, “’m a big boy.”

you pause for a moment. getou's words spring to mind, and you feel a bit nervous.

he's more sensitive than he looks.

maybe now's not the best time to bring up the clearly crumbling state of his best friend, but uncomfortable conversations don't have the luxury of waiting, nor do they ever fit into the right moment. you chew on your bottom lip in thought, as if the words would make themselves known without any effort from your part, but you find yourself no longer stuck on getou's haunting look but rather the way gojo seems a bit off his usual cheeky and snarky self.

you want to be a good friend. you care about both of them, and it hurts, in an odd, dull ache somewhere in your chest, when neither want your help.

is it so wrong to worry about gojo? you have come to terms with the idea that you like him, like him so much that sometimes, you feel half-crazy with a need to be by his side, constantly and without interruption, like today, like, hopefully, for many more days to come.

still, you are aware of the many walls and barriers he has erected to guard himself. and you, the person that likes him the most and has his attention almost at every given moment, still understand very little of who he is. you don't want to linger on the question if you ever will.

you must take example of haibara's endless positivity. step by step. even slow progress is still progress.

“i worry about everyone,” you eventually offer, more somber than you originally intended. still, it gets a faint snicker from him, and your cheeks puff with a mixture of amusement and relief. “you're not special, you know.”

“i hope that isn't true. i'd be crushed,” he teases back.

there it is. the little deflection that always makes you smile, despite how obviously it diverts from what's truly on his mind. it's a defense mechanism, you reckon. that said, you are not unaware that he has offered you little hints here and there, things he would only disclose in the dead of the night in the hush between soft laughs and your pillows.

without staring at him, you take a deep breath. heart light and fingers threaded against the seam of your shirt. here it goes, you tell yourself.

“i didn't used to worry so much, to be honest,” you confess, hoping he will at least listen before undoubtedly cutting you off, “but, i guess recently, i’m starting to see things from new perspectives. i know you don’t need it, but i still—”

he makes a sharp turn that doesn't seem coordinated enough, and suddenly, a stop-street opens to the left, overlooking a rocky beach and calm waters of the vast stretch of hakone's inlet. gojo parks dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and lets the air settle.

“honesty hour?” his smile is familiar to you, perhaps a bit too bitter to your liking. “alright. if we're playing this game, then i'd say that worrying is dumb, especially if it’s me you’re worried about. really stupid, actually. i don’t see the point in getting emotional over shit like that.”

“well, it’s not being emotional, it’s just—”

“no, shush,” he squeezes the length of your leg. you blink down at where he's touching you, and you look up when you realize he means to have the attention for just this. “look, what i'm saying is, i’m me, yeah? you can call me conceited all you want, but it’s the truth. i mean, i, okay, fine, fuck it,” he sighs, like he's annoyed, and you're just as grateful you can't fully see his expression as he likely is of yours, “a weak heart is not something to particularly proud of. i'm not someone that requires babysitting.”

this is likely the first time he has ever been so upfront about anything in his life, ever. maybe getou has seen this side of him, but even if that was the case, you'd never know for certain. you don't, however, appreciate the slight anger in his tone.

“no one's babysitting you,” you placate, careful to test his reaction before continuing, “we spend almost all of our time together, how is this surprising? and i don't think anyone would make an argument against you being the strongest, but you're still a person.”

you wonder when his hand slipped from your knee. he doesn't react for a good few seconds, as though gathering his thoughts, though you suspect, whether he was or not, this is not something he intended to dig deep enough to expose.

“well, yeah, duh,” he responds obtusely, but he offers nothing more.

this has gone about as well as you've expected, which is to say it has gone terribly, and it’s all his fault, because you were intending to go in a completely different direction.

“still a person,” he utters, and now he definitely sounds irritated, “the hell's that supposed to mean? you think i'm gonna roll over and let some curse get me or something? are you stupid?”

your stomach lurches like he has landed a heavy blow on it, and you need a moment to swallow past the ugly burn in your throat that your entire face stings with. somehow, what irks you the most is that you are hurt he would assume that you, of all people, would ever force something he doesn’t want onto him, as though the thought itself has made you a villain in his eyes.

as though stating a simple fact that he is human too is somehow insulting, somehow a threat to his title as gojo satoru and each and every connotation that comes with that honored name.

you have never asked him of anything. he's the one that started picking on you first, physically imposing himself into your life. he's the one that changed over the years and started showing new sides, he's the one that begs you to go on trips with him and buys you things and likes to hold you as he sleeps and complains that you make him horny even in situations that really call for tender affection instead of sexual advances.

you don't even ask him to like you like you like him, since you know that it would be met with harsh rejection. he would take it as a demand, no doubt, to be on your level – someone weak-hearted. his emotions have proven to be more volatile than his actions, and perhaps you’ve accidentally stumbled into something a bit out of your level of expertise. you can't brush it off with a snide, vaguely amusing remark like you usually would, nor do you want to.

you’ve changed, too.

still.

his hand is back as a vice around your knee. your jaw clenches.

that was uncalled for.

“you're being mean,” you mumble, your words hanging stale between you.

he sighs after what feels like an eternity, sounding long-suffering and tired, “sorry. that came out wrong.”

“you've just started a fight for no reason.”

“what, you crying? tough luck, maybe try being—”

“fine,” you don’t let him finish, unbuckling your seatbelt, “sorry for getting so emotional. see you at the hotel.”

“what?” he snaps, head swerving in your direction with a new, searing glare, “no. jesus. just. no. what?”

“i’m heading back,” you insist, but you are stilled in your attempts at fleeing by his hold. it'll bruise if you really want to test how badly he's going to grip you, probably, but this unexpected argument has really shaken you. he's only ever been this prickly at the start of year two, when the sight of you invoked some long-simmering resentment that he showed by cowing at you from each and every corner, like some hellish echo, “let me go, please.”

“hold on,” his fingers dig, and despite how you try to swat at him, he doesn't budge, “there's no need for this. i'm sorry, okay? don't get out the fucking car, for fuck's sake, i'm serious.”

“satoru,”

“no,” he snarls, the sound sudden and vicious that you flinch from its force, “i said, no. i don't—you're not going anywhere. i'm sorry, okay, i'm sorry, i'm an asshole, i know, but just, just listen for a sec.”

you slump against your seat, lips pursed and arms tightly crossed in a way you know he finds childish but that, unfortunately for him, is a legitimate response to his infuriating behavior. to further throw him off, you make it very clear he does not have your attention, and that even if he did, it wouldn't do him any good.

you feel him slowly relax and tremble before petting at the little scratches he has accidentally carved in your skin in a way that lets you know he’s truly sorry. he lets out an uneasy sigh, fingers twitching every few seconds.

stillness. finally, silence, except for the wind that howls and the crash of the ocean below.

“i was talking bullshit,” he begins, the effort of it wearing him down to a barely audible, pathetic volume. “it's just, i can't... i don't know how, okay? that's the truth.”

“can't what?”

“you know,” he gestures ambiguously with the hand he isn't restraining you with, “there are certain expectations i gotta meet. i can't disappoint everyone. i mean, they wouldn't, i don't think, but... look, i'm sure you understand.”

“no, i don't, actually,” you snip, “i don't even understand what we're fighting about anymore.”

“i, just, it's, okay, whatever, fuck,” he thumps his head back against his seat, and the next words leave him in one big, excruciating spill, “i'm just not very good with feelings. this is all fucking crazy.”

like most secrets, they're out before he can reel them back. his lips slam shut so quickly that it turns into a tense line. you watch him, he watches you, and his face melts into something shameful. his eyes dart to the steering wheel and back, and you really hope he isn't planning on smashing the accelerator again to head face first into the rocks to escape whatever the hell is happening in this car.

“i'm not good at this,” he repeats slowly, painfully, as though you’re speaking different languages, “i don't want you to cry.”

“i'm not crying. i'm pissed off and i want to go home.”

“don't go home,” he rushes to say, “don't go anywhere. i'm not even sure where we are exactly, so just, calm down.”

“i can find my way,” you sniff irritably, and he suddenly looks utterly miserable, which you think is very unfair.

“christ, you couldn't even find the fucking bathroom in the mall, do you seriously think i'm gonna let you walk around alone at night cuz you're a bit angry with me?”

gojo really has a talent of saying the wrong things at the most right of times.

you scowl, “that's because i was following you!” yes, perhaps you did turn off your brain and mindlessly waddle after him, trusting him to deliver you to your desired location. is it a crime to be caught in the spell that is gojo satoru's enigmatic appeal? that should be considered a blessing instead of an inconvenience, surely, “don't patronize me. and if you don't quit being shitty, you'll be watching the fireworks alone, cuz i'm taking my ass to the first train and heading the hell back to tokyo.”

“sorry,” he bows his head, forehead softly smacking against your shoulder, “please don't go. i'm sorry.”

“sorry you went super shit on me?” you demand, still sulking, “or sorry you snapped?”

“sorry for... all of it, alright? i'll make it up to you. do you want new jewelry? you didn't get any. like earrings, or something. i'll get nice ones, okay?”

your eyes nearly bug out of your head, “huh? stop freaking me out. i sincerely hope you realize i don't hang around you to get free stuff. that's so shallow. do you even know me?”

“god,” he exhales heavily, like he's very, very close to banging his head against the wheel out of sheer exasperation. “i'm trying, you know. cut me some slack here.”

yes, you see he's trying his utmost best, and that's why you're already softening. but the sting still lingers. you will be gracious and assume that his attempt at buying back your affection was borne out of panic and is, overall, a genuine mistake, or maybe a show of something beneath the layers – who is he if not gojo satoru, the strongest, the richest, the prodigal son, the untouchable, unapproachable sorcerer? gojo doesn't deal with his mistakes gracefully. he overcompensates. he hides, and this time, he has failed to hide from you.

“and i don't want you to pay back the ice cream, either,” you finally mumble, tentatively reaching up to pet the mess of his fluffy hair as a show of good faith. an olive branch, because apparently, you will always possess a clearer mind than him.

he’s immobile for a second, and then he burrows even deeper into the material of your shirt, as though hoping to somehow melt away from it, and a heavy breath collapses out of him, “this is bad for my ego. don't ever take that control away from me. it's wrong. feels wrong.”

“fine. whatever. you win. happy? nothing happened, yada yada. friends,” you grumble.

“gross,” he groans, despite the clear warmth in his voice that makes your stomach flutter, “being a friend sounds a bit lame. but yeah. friends. and we're watching the fireworks tomorrow, yes? say yes.”

“okay,” you acquiesce, despite your reservations, “maybe.”

“yes,” he insists, stubbornly holding his position on your shoulder. he does, however, pout, and that lightens your mood significantly. “we are. right?”

“you have to be less annoying.”

“fine.”

“fine, and,” you start. you don't want to be cold with him, but you don't quite feel ready to let this go, “i want to sleep in a different room.”

he startles away from you like you’ve slapped him, “no. bad idea. forget it, it's not happening.”

“don't fight me on this, satoru,” you say, and his eyes widen slightly. “it's really not up for debate.”

“are you mad?”

“yeah,” you tell him, and it's true. “i'm not... mad-mad, but like. i need a little space.”

“okay,” he swallows thickly, like he doesn't like the thought of you so much as existing further than a ten meter radius from him, “got it. no problem.”

that must've hurt.

“just for today,” you assure him, “promise.”

he nods slowly. then, “can i… can i at least kiss you?”

you shake your head. no, not now. not yet.

“right, okay, of course,” he mutters emptily and sits back. with some space in between you again, you find his lack of warmth much more pronounced, not to mention the distance he puts there. for the first time today, when starts the car and shifts gears, the edge of his fingers doesn't brush your skin.

the drive back to the hotel is agonizingly silent.

additional author's note: i think dating gojo would be very difficult since he's so emotionally stunted that he can't express himself and he's too afraid to try. i think he would also have significant trouble being on the same level as someone he considers weaker than him (not in a bad way). the only reason he even formed a connection with suguru was because suguru, at one point, was also the strongest, and he was the only person that understood him on that level. reader isn't the strongest, and the connection she offers is really different than what he's used to. he lashes out, but he still apologizes sincerely. i also thinks he takes her for granted, much like he takes getou. he's supposed to be in control because he's the strongest, and he's likely troubled about his own feelings, that's why he's so frustrated.

don't be too angry with him, he's really trying :(

but anyway, stan kami-chan because she is a baddie and if a baddie threatened to leave me i'd be clawing at her begging her to stay too

tags (bold couldn't tag!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @alygator77 , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l , @your-sleeparalysisdem0n , @satoryaa , @cccandynecklaces , @stuffeddeer , @cherriee-ee ,

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c-c-cherry · 2 months ago

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[Reigen colours outside the lines.]

Appearing once again as a liaison as the lovely Shadow faxes this into my dms (because Reigen and Mob colouring peacefully in visual format is something everyone else deserves to see too). Clicking on the image ups the quality lol

Art for Area Hysteria chapter 13 :)

#area hysteria #art for cherry!#fanfic #ao3 #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #reigen arataka #kageyama shigeo #fanart #not my art :)

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drvscarlett · 4 months ago

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About You Pt 10.5

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series

A/N: i just think we deserve Multi 21 as a seperate mini chapter.

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444 @mploopssek @snakelore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @lordpercevalcharles

2013, Sepang International Circuit

09:00 of Race Day

Formula 1 is the worst sport that could ever exist.

Its one of the only sports that doesn't just need talent because no matter how talented you are, you also need sheer luck. It also doesn't matter how good a driver is, if the person doesn't have the proper car or strategy then they are fucked.

Furthermore, its the only sport wherein everyone is your rival. Even if the sport requires you to be in a team, you can’t even trust your teammate to help you. Every man is out there for himself on the track. It is highly possible that your teammate is your biggest rival as you have the same car and specs.

One could understand how relationships in this sport is always hanging on a thread with every race.

"You doing okay there?"

Sebastian was driving but he could see from his peripheral view how engross Y/N is with her laptop. She had been a bit stressed out with frown lines permanently etched on her forehead since he picked her up a while ago.

"Nothing much, its just Jenson and his new teammates are fighting so much" Y/N sighs.

The statements have been taken out of proportion by media outlets and now Jenson's image was not good to the public. She have to do some damage controls and some new strategy to convince the public that they don't mean any bad blood with one another.

"Oh so this is what Britta is suffering when me and your brother fights"Sebastian chuckles.

"Yeah so you better be good and don't make a lot of trouble for Britta"Y/N reminds.

Y/N was back on her work after the brief banter and Sebastian just had the inkling that he wanted to hold her hand. With his free hand, he laced it towards her and pressed a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

"What was that for?"

"Nothing, I just love you"Sebastian admits.

This was something that has certainly changed ever since they opted to navigate their relationship. Sebastian has been a bit bold and touchy when they are in private, the Red Bull driver never shies away from being honest about how he feels. Often times, Y/N is overwhelmed by it with a pink tint on her cheeks.

"You make weekends better"he adds "I always look forward to these car rides with you so we can have a moment for ourselves before the whole race"

No matter how chaotic this sport is, Sebastian is at ease with her by his side.

10:18 of Race Day

Mark felt like he wanted to glare at Sebastian as soon as he entered the garage. He watched as everyone especially the female staffs becomes enamored with Sebastian. The German driver has also been thriving with the attention with how his flirty smiles and lingering touches.

There was a boiling anger in Mark. He couldn't fathom how Sebastian has been playing along his sister after what he saw in Brazil 2012. He is frustrated that her sister is blind about the whole thing. Mark thinks that if he hadn't been a shit brother then maybe Y/N would listen to him.

"Control your face"Christian warned "If the media sees that they will be out there like hounds spinning a story about you and Sebastian not playing good with each other"

"But that's what exactly is happening"Mark muttered

"Mark please we don't want distractions from the actual race, we're here to win"

As much as Mark would like to say that Christian is wrong, it was true. The media coverage has been a source of stress that may affect a driver's performance once they are on track. Instead of resting after a race then they may have to answer tactless interview questions or be judged by public opinion.

So here is Mark putting up a friendly smile.

"That's much more better, keep your chin up"Christian patted his shoulder before leaving.

It was just another regular day of Mark trying his best to be in the good graces of Red Bull. He keeps the heavy sigh he wants to release out to himself and went to Sebastian's group with his forced smile.

"Hey mate, you doing okay?"

"Mark, good to see you today"

And so it begins.

11:54 of Race Day

No doubt, there is rivalry in the sports but that is something that should exist on the track and not outside of it. It was not uncommon that drivers hang out together since they only have each other to talk to with their hectic schedule and crazy lifestyle.

So a few hours before the race, Y/N is in the middle of lunch with Jenson, Nico and Lewis.

"I'm telling you guys that Checo is someone you don't want to be teammates with"Jenson angrily stabs his salad.

"Would you shut up!"Y/N hit Jenson at the back of his head "Do you know how much I spent this morning trying to appease Checo's sponsors because of your comments"

"But Y/N, he isn't a good teammate and did you see what he did to me in Australia"Jenson defends himself.

"Yeah but you two are in a race so there must be some wheel-to-wheel action every now and then"Y/N ever the voice of reason.

In Formula 1, sometimes a driver has to be selfish and think about his standing first before the team. When they want to be a world champion then every points matter so she honestly don't think that Checo is in the wrong here. Checo just wanted points.

"I am so glad we have a good working relationship"Lewis chuckled as he fistbump with Nico

"Boohoo in a few years you will be suffering too"Jenson taunts.

"No way, we have the power of friendship by our side"Nico confidently stated.

"Why don't you try to be friends with Checo first? Maybe you can find some interest or common ground"Lewis suggested.

"That's a great idea with you two filming tooned then maybe you can work"Y/N applauds.

Jenson just shakes his head and bangs his head to the counter of the table. It was so easy for them to tell this when he was the one driving the car and having to fight off a teammate.

"And why are you so miserable Jenson" Sebastian joins the group with his lunch "You look like shit man"

"Finally, someone who understands a teammate that is trying to kill me"Jenson's face lit up upon seeing Sebastian "Just tell them how hard it is to function in a sport where your teammate is trying to kill you"

"Watch it"Y/N grumbles. She has to remind them that Sebastian's team mate is still her brother. They may have their differences but he is still her brother.

"It's really how it works Jenson"Sebastian's safe answer "We don't always get lucky like the Mercedes bestfriends over here"

Nico and Lewis gave each other a high five again as they laughed at Jenson's misery. It was so rare for Formula 1 team mates to be in a good relationship with one another much more to have them as your bestfriend.

While Jenson continues grumbling about how its unfair, Sebastian scoots closer to Y/N. It was something that didn't miss the eagled eye of the two Mercedes drivers. They grin with each other knowing that there is a certain progress in the relationship of the two.

13:17 on Race Day

Corinna admits that since Michael officially retired, she kind of miss weekends such as this one. It was something that she has been used to ever since she started dating Michael so missing out a few Grand Prix felt weird for her.

"Corinna!"Y/N called out and in her high heels she cones running to give her a hug.

For Corinna, Y/N is like a little sister in the paddock. She was one of the people that Corinna dearly miss because she is always travelling with F1 related things.

"Why didn't you tell me you are coming? I only heard from Seb that he saw you wandering around the paddock"Y/N said.

"It was a last minute kind of thing with Michael, you know him"Corinna admits.

Up until Friday, they weren't sure whether to go. However, Michael has been persuaded by Ross Brawn to attending even just the race so here they are.

"Speaking of Sebastian"Corinna starts "How come you didn't tell me about you two being an item"

It was now Y/N's turn to be speechless. Corinna noted how the confident girl suddenly shied away and the lovestruck expression hits her face.

"We're not yet an item, still navigating things"

"You are still going to be an item" Corinna clapped in glee.

She had long waited for this one. Mick has also been roped to play cupid several times so they can get to confess their feelings. She couldn't count how many times she accidentally dropped hints so that little Schumi will confront the two to tell their feelings.

"It can be very overwhelming, we don't want to make mistakes"Y/N explains "This world is everchanging"

Corinna agrees. She could remember the early days when she started dating Michael. It was a lot of stress and unfortunate events but hey they made it out those rough times together. They are still going strong even now.

"You have to be there with him okay"Corinna advices "The place on the top can be very lonely so he counts on you to be there"

Y/N nods her head in agreement. Corinna knows that the competition can be a lot at times but with Y/N by Sebastian side then maybe she could balance him out.

"C'mon, I think I saw some ice cream. I'll treat you to celebrate your new relationship"

"Corinna, its still not a relationship"

14:40 on Race Day

It was a feat for Sebastian to sneak out of the Red Bull garage to go to the McLaren ones. He knows that he has a few minutes left before he has to get in the car but he needs a goodluck charm today and he will be damned if he won't have it.

"A lot going on your mind?"Sebastian asked surprising the Webber girl.

"Sebastian"she looks shocked "What are you doing here? The race is about to start"

Sebastian pulled Y/N behind the garage away from the eyes of everyone.

"But I have to see you"Sebastian enveloped her in a hug.

He never expected himself to be clingy to someone but having Y/N changes things. It was like a need for him to be closer to her and he never want to go away from her. Y/N seems to find these interactions more comforting than the usual things she do to calm herself down before a race.

"You stay safe later, okay? Eyes on the track"Y/N pointed out

"I'll get a P1 for you okay?"Sebastian promised.

"I don't care, just no incidents or accidents"

Sebastian pressed a small kiss on her forehead. It was his way of assuring her that he will come back safe to her. He wished he could stay here forever but the revving of the cars signals that the show is about to start.

"Till later Y/N"

15:40 in Race Day

The crowd watches excitedly as the Red Bull and Mercedes team mates go up against one another. They seem to be pumped about what's about to unfold in the next twenty laps because the big question is would they be forced to obey team orders or are they ready to battle it out with one another.

Both of them had a different result

Nico and Lewis are battling out with the 3rd and 4th place. The team orders were to save tyres so that both cars could finish the race and both of them can receive points that is crucial for the long run. Nico was advised not to fight Lewis and let him pass.

It is never an easy decision to let your team mate by and gift him a spot in the podium but Nico quietly resigned to this team decision. He followed what has been ordered.

On the other side, The Red Bull drivers faced the same dilemma.

Mark Webber was in the lead with P1. The radio message was clear Multi 2-1. It means that Mark as Car no. 2 should retain his position and Sebastian as Car no. 1 should retain himself at the second place. This was a clear strategy that they have discussed in meetings before.

"Multi 21, multi 21"Rocquelin repeated in the radio message "Sebastian its Multi 21 and also save your tyres"

But it seems to fall on deaf ears as Sebastian pursues Mark to race him for P1.

Mark was confused about the whole thing because he thought the radio message was clear. He finds himself fired up while the crowd goes wild with the intense wheel-to-wheel action between the two drivers.

The camera pans to the garages of McLaren, where Y/N is staying. It felt like a deja vu from years ago when she was staying at the Red Bull garage. Today, the title reads 'Y/N Webber, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend and Mark Webber's sister.'

She obviously did not notice that the cameras were on her with the way she is staring at the monitors. She was clutching her necklace and the usually composed Y/N seems to be fading. The commentators are already discussing how difficult it must be for Y/N to be caught in the middle of this whole fiasco.

It returns back to the view on track where Sebastian gains an advantage over Mark. The crowd roars in disbelief about the way Sebastian has disobeyed team orders. Adrian Newey was shaking his head in disappointment and Christian has a strange look on his face.

As the final lap finishes, the crowd stands up. It was not a cheer that Sebastian heard once he lifted his helmet but a series of boos and disapproving look from the onlookers.

16:45 on Race Day

The podium was awkward and Y/N knew that everyone was clamoring to get a statement from the two Red Bull drivers, who are visibly upset with one another. Y/N squeezed herself to the crowd in an attempt to get to Sebastian before the media does.

"It was Sebastian's fault. he was leading in the championship so why not just give this win to his team mate?"

"Sebastian Vettel is a selfish and arrogant man, Mark is unlucky to have him as a team mate"

"He does whatever he wants thats why he is a World Champion and Webber is not"

Everyone has their varying opinions of the Multi 21 incident. She badly wants to say something but her involvement can make things messier, she has to think rationally so she won't contribute to the fire.

The media pen was bursting in an electric tension as they conduct the interviews. Y/N felt a cold shiver runs down her spine as she listens to both of them discuss about the events of today. She has seen them countless of times mad with each other after a race gone bad but this makes everything seems like childsplay.

"Y/N Webber, I'm a reporter from FOX sports, what can you say about this whole fiasco about your bestfriend and your brother?" someone suddenly approached her.

All of the attention was on her all of a sudden. The panic flashed in her eyes as several other reporters starts to direct their microphones to her.

"I'm not a part of this.."

"Y/N Webber, which side do you support here?"

"Y/N from Sky Sports, are you in good terms with your brother?"

The flashing lights were a lot and Y/N felt someone grabbed her to shield her away from them. She smelled the familiar perfume of Sebastian wafting through her noses.

"It's going to be okay, I'll get you out" Sebastian whispers.

They make their way out of the room. From the distance, Y/N could hear Mark yelling at the media, which is his attempt to get the media's attention away from her.

"Leave my sister alone, she isn't a part of this"Mark stated "If you have any questions go and direct it to me and I'll answer every single one of you"

And this was the start of the shitstorm.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel angst

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago

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Love That Burns ~ 13

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,940ish

Summary: The team goes to the Statue of Liberty to stop Magneto.

Warnings: violence, injuries

Notes: I know that I've been updating this a lot. I hope that it's okay!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! (I’m now including this as its own section because people keep not reading it in the notes.)

When you and Logan went back inside, you found out that Jean had tried to use Cerebro after finding out that Charles had been poisoned. She ended up finding out where Magneto had taken Rogue, but it had taken a good deal of strength from her. The team gathered in the briefing room to come up with a plan. You had noticed that Logan was sticking close to you, not close enough to touch, but close enough that you knew he was there. You were all surrounding the pin table, allowing Scott to take the lead and use the table to show information.

“Magneto is here,” Scott said as the table changed to show the location. “Liberty Island. Presumably his objective is to mutate the world leaders at the U.N. Summit on Ellis Island.”

“He doesn’t know his machine kills,” Ororo said, “and judging from what the Professor saw, if Magneto gave Rogue enough power—“

"He could wipe out everyone in New York City,” Jean finished.

“All right,” Scott said, “we can insert here at the George Washington Bridge. Come around the bank, just off of Manhattan. We land on the far side of Liberty Island. Here.”

“What about harbor patrol?” Logan asked. “Radar?”

“Magneto would have already dealt with most of the harbor control,” you replied. “Besides, if they have anything that can pick up our jet, they deserve to catch us.”

“Suit up,” Scott ordered. “I want to be in the sky in ten.”

You headed out to grab your suit, with Logan following. He had left his suit on the floor when the two of you found Charles. You stripped yourself of your clothes, leaving you in shorts and a sports bra, before pulling the suit on. Logan stepped around the corner in his suit as you pulled the leather up.

“Here,” he mumbled, coming closer.

He carefully unfolded some of the leather and zipped up the back of your suit. You inhaled sharply as Logan’s fingers grazed your skin.

“Thanks,” you told him.

Logan gave you a nod before following you to the jet. He zipped up the front of his suit as he sat down and tugged at the collar before slipping gloves over his hands. You could tell that this whole situation was uncomfortable to him.

“You actually go outside in these things?” He wondered.

“What would you prefer?” Scott retorted, as he prepared the jet for take off. “Yellow spandex?”

Logan gave you an unamused look with you giving him a small smile in return. The engines revved and Scott began to fly the jet.

“Whoa!” Logan exclaimed, closing his eyes briefly.

Remembering Logan’s thoughts on flying, you reached across the small isle, holding out your hand. He looked at it before shaking his head. You hated how your heart ached at the rejection. As you began to pull your hand away, the jet jostled and Logan quickly took ahold of your hand. You gave his hand a simple squeeze in acknowledgement, trying not to make a big deal out of it for both his sake and your heart’s.

The flight was short and before you knew it, the jet was above New York City. Logan let go of your hand and released his claws, causing them to form openings in the leather gloves he had on.

“There’s the bridge,” Scott stated. “I”m takin’ her down. Storm, some cover, please.”

Storm’s eyes went white and fog filled the sky. Scott flew over to Liberty Island and hand the jet land in the water with a thud.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“You call that a landing?” Asked Logan.

“Let’s please save the fighting boys,” you said as you got up and opened the top of the jet.

The team followed you out of the jet and onto the island. It was normal for you to take the lead on missions, so no one put up a fight.

“They’re going to be in the torch,” you said, glancing at Logan. “Come on.”

Entering the building, you realized that the security had already been handle. The only sound was from a small television about the Summit happening nearby. You walked through the metal detector, not even thinking about it. Suddenly, the alarm wailed and you spun around to see Logan cutting down the detector. He looked over at the rest of you, leaving his middle claw up. You rolled your eyes and continued carefully through the room.

Logan paused next to you, sniffing. “There’s someone here,” he said.

“Where?” Scott asked, looking around.

“I don’t know. Keep your eye open.” Then he continued walking forward.

“Logan,” you called, put his hand signaled for you to stop while he kept going. “Damn it.”

“Anything?” Scott asked.

You looked over to see that Logan had returned, but from a different direction. Taking a step back, you began warming up your hands.

“There’s someone here,” Logan responded. “I just can’t see ‘em.”

He released his claws and before he could attack Scott, another Logan had tackled him to the ground. The two began fighting. Scott stepped up to use his lasers, while flames covered your hands.

“Wait!” Both Logan’s shouted. One of the Logan’s quickly hit a cord that shut a door between you and them.

“All right, back up, back up,” Scott ordered.

Before he could do anything, another mutant made their entrance. Their tongue attached to a pipe, they came swinging in, kicking Scott down between doing the same to Jean and Ororo.

“We’ve got him!” Jean shouted at you. “Find Rogue and Logan.”

You nodded, running off. You quickly found stairs and began heading up them. Hearing footsteps behind you, you spun around, throwing a fire ball.

“Hey!” Logan shouted, ducking before he could get hit. “It’s me!”

You readied another fire ball. “Prove it.”

He reached down his suit and pulled out two sets of dog tags. “I have yours with me.”

You nodded, calming down your flames. “Alright.” Logan came up the steps to meet you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Though he didn’t ask if you were okay, you could see Logan’s eyes studying you for any signs of injury. “Let’s go.”

You and Logan made it to the head of the Statue of Liberty with the others not too far behind. There was a hole at the top that allowed you a view of the torch.

“Everybody get out of here,” Logan suddenly said.

“What is it?” You asked, moving to stand beside him.

“I can’t move.”

Suddenly, Logan went flying to the wall. You were next, the two of you facing each other as metal bands kept you there. Ororo was secured on a wall by herself while Scott and Jean found themselves in a similar situation as you and Logan. Magneto lowered himself into room.

“Ah, my brothers,” he greeted. “Welcome.” Magneto turned to face Logan. “And you, just point those claws of yours in a safer direction.” Though Logan tried to resist, his fists were placed on your chest. If his claws released, it could kill you. Magneto smirked as Sabretooth entered the room and took Scott’s glasses. “You better close your eyes.”

“Storm, fry ‘em,” Scott ordered.

“Oh, yes. A bolt of lightning into a huge copper conductor. I thought you lived at a school.” Magneto placed his hand on the commutation device in his ear. “Mystique? Mystique!”

“I’ve seen Senator Kelly,” Jean told him.

“So, the good Senator survived his fall. And the swim to shore. He’s become even more powerful than I imagined.”

“He’s dead.”

“It’s true,” Ororo confirmed. “I saw him die. Like those people down there will die.”

“Are you sure you saw what you saw? Why do none of you understand what I’m trying to do? Those people down there control our fate and the fate of every other mutant! Well, soon our fate will be theirs.”

“Help!” Rogue shouted from above. “Please help me!”

“You’re so full of shit,” Logan spat, anger evident. “If you were really so righteous, it’d be you in that thing.”

“Help! Somebody help me!”

Magneto floated up without saying another word. Logan suddenly groaned, sweat collecting on his forehead. You could feel Logan’s claws pricking at your skin.

“It’s okay,” you told him.

“I’m trying—“ Logan was clearly struggling. “I don’t want to—“

“I know. It’s going to get hot real soon and you’re going to let it happen.”

“What? Y/N, are you—“

The metal around Logan gave way, having been heated up. Before Logan knew it, he was falling to the ground, his claws scratching you all the way down.

“Y/N!” Jean exclaimed as you cried out.

“No, no, no, no, no.” Logan was quickly on his feet, examining you. His claws had cut through the metal, allowing him to grab you and carefully move you to the ground. “Y/N, I am so sorry… why did you do that?”

“I’ll be fine,” you told him. “I’m healing.” Logan looked and could see your skin healing together into scars. You could tell that it wasn’t enough for Logan. “Logan, I’m fine.” Sabertooth growled, reminding you all of his presence. “Deal with him, I’ll free the others.”

Logan nodded, turning around and quickly started a fight with the other mutant. Their fight soon took them on top of the Statue of Liberty, allowing you to free the others by heating up the metal. Jean quickly gave Scott his glasses back while Ororo came to your side, helping you up. Sabertooth suddenly jumped back into the room and you blasted him out with your fire. You stumbled back, still weak. Logan jumped down and quickly steadied you. Your heads all snapped to look up when Rogue screamed again. Magneto had started up the machine.

“We gotta get her outta there,” Logan stated. “Cyclops, can you hit it?”

“The rings are moving too fast,” Scott replied.

“Just shoot it!”

“I’ll kill her! Storm, can you get me up there?”

“I can’t control it like that,” Storm said. “You could fly right over the torch.”

“I’ll go,” you said.

“Oh, hell no,” Logan shook his head. “I’ll go. If I don’t make it, at least you can still blast the damn thing.”

“You have a metal skeleton, Logan! Magneto can stop you. I’m going.”

“You won’t heal if Rogue touches you!”

“Yes, I will!”

Before another argument could break out, you used your flames to shoot you up. You could hear the call of your name from below, but you didn’t care. It was too risky for anyone else to stop the machine and Magneto. You landed on the torch, beside Magneto. The radiation from the machine began to travel outward. Magneto raised his had to try to stop you, but soon found that there wasn’t enough metal on you. You threw some flames his way, causing him to stumble backwards and fall down.

“Ah!” Rogue cried out, part of her hair turning white.

“I’ve got you, Rogue,” you told her.

You set your hands on the machine and began focusing your energy into it. The machine melted, causing the radiation to suddenly stop and Rogue to fall forward. You caught her, realizing that she wasn’t breathing.

“Come on,” you whispered, trying to get Rouge to wake.

“Y/N!” Logan shouted. He knew what you were going to do. “Don’t!”

You placed your hand on her head and she began to take your power from you. Your wounds opened up on your chest and you began bleeding out. Rogue gasped as she came to and pushed you away from her. You fell back, unconscious.

next chapter >

#logan howlet x reader #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #logan x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett x female!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine fanfiction #the wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 13- There's No Place Like Home

Summary: 6 months ago, Javier Peña quite literally bumped into you and changed your life forever. 6 months later, Javi prepares to ask you to spend your forever with him.

Word Count: 13.2K (reasonable of me tbh)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, massive breeding kink, one use of daddy (in reference to actually being a dad, but STILL), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mentions of food/eating, Javi being a nervous wreck, so many surprises (hehehehehe), literally so much fluff and love and happiness AHHHHHHHHH

A/N: It's here!!! The moment we've all been waiting for since these two lovebirds first met 😭😭😭💖💖💖 I have no words, only loud screams into the abyss bc of how happy and in love these idiots are!!! Thank you to everyone that has been along on this ride, your love and support means more to me than you know 🥺🫶🏻 Also literally not that anyone cares, but I picked May 27th as just a random day when I first started writing, and the way I literally SCREAMED when I found out that Thanksgiving in 1997 fell on November 27th?!?! That, and when I first started, Javi was not proposing until the spring/summer OOPS 🤷🏼‍♀️😂

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

November 27th, 1997.

6 months.

6 months since the day he quite literally bumped into you.

6 months since he had first laid eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

6 months since the moment he already knew he was head over heels in love with you.

6 months of waiting to ask the most important question of his life.

Because tomorrow, exactly 6 months from the day he had met you, Javier Peña was going to ask you to marry him.

And he was a fucking nervous wreck.

It had killed Javi to wait this long. By conventional standards, 6 months wasn’t that long to know someone before you asked them to spend the rest of their life with you, but in all honesty, Javi would have proposed to you 3 months ago after he first got his mom’s ring from his dad. He had never been so sure of anything in his entire life- he wanted to spend forever with you. And now, after what felt like years of waiting, making sure that everything had fallen in place to give you the best proposal he could possibly imagine, the day was almost here.

Javi wanted everything to be perfect. He needed it to be. You were the most perfect person he had ever met, and to him, you deserved everything, and then some. He wasn’t nervous you were going to say no, or that he was second guessing his decision, Javi was a mess because there was nothing more he wanted than to give you a day you would never forget.

It was also going to now be a day Chucho Peña never forgot either. After everything had settled into place for Javi to finally start finalizing his plans, his poor dad had now become much more involved in planning a proposal than he ever thought he’d have to be. At this point, he was truly trying his best to not find it humorous how worked up his son had been over it, knowing that there was no way in the world you were going to be anything short of amazed, let alone say no.

“And you’re sure that you’ve got the-”

“Javier. This is probably the 14th time you have gone over the plan with me. Yes. I am sure I have everything you need. I have both lists you insisted I take, everyone knows where to be and what to do to help. Take a deep breath, hijo.” Chucho chuckled, taking a sip of his beer as he and Javi sat on the back porch of the Peña ranch, watching the sky slowly fade from bright yellows and pinks to faded blues as the sun dipped below the horizon.

“Okay. Sorry. I’m uh- Fuck, Pops, I’m nervous as hell.” Javi swallowed, running his thumb along the condensation of his can, anxiously drawing little circles in the water droplets.

“Really? I can’t tell.” Chucho joked, smirking to himself as he glanced over at his son, bouncing his leg against the chair he was sitting on. “Javier, what is there to be nervous about? It’s not like she’s going to say no.” Javi looked up at his Dad, the worn smile of his wrinkled face bringing him some relief from the nervous state he was in.

“No, I know. I just- I just want it to be perfect. I want it to be perfect for her. I’ve been thinking about this for so long and now it’s finally fucking here. She deserves everything, Pops. I love her so much.” Chucho reached over, patting his hand against Javi’s shoulder, gently squeezing his fingertips against the soft fabric of his flannel shirt.

“Javier, it will be perfect because you love her, and she loves you.” Chucho paused for a moment, quietly laughing to himself as he looked over at Javi. “Have I ever told you the story of how I proposed to your mamá?” A mischievous grin grew across Chucho’s face as Javi nodded, taking another swig of his drink.

“Yeah, you did it at the lake, right?”

“Yes. But that is the short version of the story, Mijo. I was so nervous when I proposed to your mother, that as we were walking up to the lake so I could get down on one knee and ask her to marry me, I tripped over my own feet and fell right to the ground, and the ring came out of my pocket. I didn’t put it in a box, because I was worried she would see, and so she had to help me find her engagement ring in the grass because I couldn’t find it. Until the day she died, she never let me live it down. But it is still one of my favorite memories of the two of us. It was still perfect. Javier, that girl would marry you if you got down on one knee and asked her in your living room. I have no doubt in my mind that tomorrow will be a day that she will never forget.”

“Fuck, guess I better add tripping over myself to the list of things I need to worry about, thanks, Dad.” The pair laughed, shaking their heads as Chucho gave Javi one last pat on the shoulder before he placed his hands on his knees, letting out a heavy grunt as he pushed himself up out of his chair.

“Cabrón (asshole). Now go, you should be spending time with your future esposa (wife) instead of your old man the night before your engagement. I promise, I have everything taken care of.” Javi followed his dad’s suit, setting down his beer before standing up, reaching out to wrap his arms around Chucho in a tight embrace.

“Thanks, Pops. For everything. Te amo.”

“Of course, mijo. Te amo mucho. I am so happy for you, Javier. She is such a wonderful woman. I am so glad she is going to be a part of our family. I know that your mamá is smiling down on you- She would have loved her so much, Javier. I love her, too. And now, I’m finally one step closer to mis nietos (my grandchildren).” Chucho playfully nudged Javi as he rolled his eyes, giving his son one last embrace as Javi headed out to his truck. As he turned over the ignition, Javi smiled to himself as he turned up the volume of the Queen’s Greatest Hits album you had picked out from your last drive.

“Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had. Been with you such a long time, You're my sunshine, and I want you to know that my feelings are true, I really love you. Oh, you're my best friend.”

Javi couldn’t help but let a stupidly wide grin spread across his cheeks as he listened to the lyrics of the track that had begun playing over the quiet crunch of the gravel under his truck tires as he backed out of the driveway to drive home. Because tomorrow? Tomorrow, Javier Peña was going to ask his best friend in the whole world, the woman he loved more than life itself, you, to be his wife.

Even though it was barely long enough for you to consider it to be a school “break”, you were glad to have today off to prep for your first Laredo Thanksgiving tomorrow. This would be the first time you would ever spend the holiday away from your childhood home, where your family had hosted every Thanksgiving for as long as you could remember. As much as you would have loved to fly back to go see everyone, plane tickets for the long weekend had been ridiculously expensive, and with just going to visit them a month ago for your cousin’s wedding, and future plans to go back to Chicago over Christmas break, your parents had been insistent on the fact that it was okay that you weren’t going to be able to make it home for Thanksgiving. While of course, you had been heartbroken you would have to miss seeing your family, from the moment Chucho found out you were Texas bound for the holiday, he was quick to make sure you felt nothing short of absolutely included in celebrating with the Peñas, even if it was just you, Javi and Chucho.

Javi still had to work on your day off, so you had spent your free time catching up on chores around the house, taking a well deserved nap and now, you were working on the apple pie you insisted to Chucho bring for the celebration tomorrow, as much as he had tried to convince you that you didn’t need to bring anything.

Somewhere along the lines of your childhood, it had become a Wednesday before Thanksgiving tradition that your family would watch The Wizard of Oz with your siblings before going to bed (although now as an adult, you had a feeling your parents put it on for you and your brothers so they could get the house ready without the four of you doing any more damage), so it only felt right that you put in on to watch as you waited for your pies to cook in the oven and Javi to get home. You shuffled through your VHS collection under the TV, rummaging around until you pulled out the worn tape, pushing it into the VHS player. After the movie had begun to play, you turned back around, letting out a defeated sigh at the current state of your kitchen.

As much as you loved baking, it always seemed to feel like a bomb had gone off by the time you were done as you looked around to see bowls, cutting boards and rolling pins in disarray on your counters. You grimaced to yourself looking around at the mess you had made, rolling up the sleeves of Javi’s oversized Texas A&M sweatshirt you had thrown on after you had woken up from your nap. With the way you had set up your apartment when you moved in, you were able to get a good view of your TV from the kitchen, cranking up the volume on your remote so you could listen and quote along to the movie as you worked on trying your best to clean up before Javi came home to your baking tornado.

At this point, you had seen the Wizard of Oz enough to quote it from front to back, especially as you and your brothers very early on in life had easily determined who got to be each part when you watched together. By default, because you were the only girl, your brothers told you that you had to be Dorthy, which you didn’t mind because you got the main part and to have Todo (Although your favorite family dog, Otis, an overweight yellow lab, wasn’t very pleased about having to be a part of you and your brothers yearly production). Charlie was always the Tin Man, being the oldest and most empathetic out of the rest of your brothers, David was Courage the Cowardly Lion, claiming lions were cool animals and that he was the bravest of your siblings, much to your disagreement, leaving Patrick as the Scarecrow, you and your brothers giving him the title of the smartest idiot you’d ever meet. After finishing washing the dishes, you had moved on to wiping down the counters, pausing and smiling to yourself as you heard the start to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” playing from the TV. You couldn’t help yourself as you began to sing along, swaying back and forth as you lazily wiped up your mess. You were so caught up in singing and dancing to yourself that you hadn’t even heard Javi open the door behind you.

Javi had quickly come to find out after moving in with you that not only coming home to you, but coming home to find you singing along to whatever CD you had playing as you meandered through the apartment, completely oblivious to his presence, was one his favorite things. There were times he could hear your voice as he went to unlock the door, making sure to open it extra quietly so he could stand in the doorway for a few moments, taking in the warmth and joy that radiated from you as you were lost in your own world. He soaked in every moment, watching every sway of your hip and shake of your head until you realized that he was home, making him just as happy for the big hug and kiss he got from you and your excited giggles as you greeted him.

He couldn’t quite make out what you had been signing as he carefully turned his key in the lock, gently closing the door behind him, grinning at the image of you dressed head to toe in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, messy bun plopped on your head as you bent over the counter, resting your elbow on the hard surface with your head propped up on your chin.

“Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow, why then oh why can’t I? If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can’t I?”

Quietly setting down his bag and keys, Javi snuck his way over to the kitchen loud enough for you not be completely startled by his presence, as the song came to an end, making you turn your head over your shoulder to see Javi coming behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist from the back he pressed his chest into your back, making you giggle as he planted quick, soft kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder.

“I could listen to you sing all day, Hermosa.” Javi rasped into your ear, playfully shaking you in his grasp. “Wizard of Oz?” He asked, gesturing towards the TV as the movie continued in the background.

“Really? You want me to sing Days of the Week for you? I didn’t get to sing it today since there was no school, I really need to get my fix.” You retorted, giving Javi a little nudge as he rolled his eyes.

“Please for the love of God, no.” The both of you laughed as you looked back at the TV, watching Todo escape from the back of Mrs. Gulch’s bike basket.

“My brothers and I would always watch it the night before Thanksgiving. Not really sure how the tradition started, but figured I’d throw it on. I can turn it off if you don’t wanna watch or put on something else.” You replied, reaching over for the remote.

“No, keep it on, Osita.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, arms still resting along your hips as he held you. “I can’t fuckin’ tell you the last time I’ve seen this movie. I’m gonna be real honest with you, I never really watched it that much as a kid because the flying monkeys scared the shit outta me.”

“Seriously? They’re not even that scary. But we can fast forward through the monkey parts, if you need to, ya big bab-HEY!” You shrieked as Javi suddenly turned you around in his grasp so you were chest to chest before scooping you up and plopping you down so you were sitting on the counter. He placed his hands outside your hips, engulfing your body and making you squirm and laugh as he peppered ticklish kisses across your neck and face, trying your best to swat back at him. “Javi stop! You know that tickles!” You squealed, finally grabbing his arms, wrestling with him until he had given up, pressing a sweet, tender kiss on your lips.

“Oh yeah? Who’s the big baby now?” He smirked, running his hands along your thighs as your legs dangled over the edge of the counter.

“Still you, because I’m not irrationally afraid of poorly made monkey costumes.” You pointed your finger at him, prodding at his chest.

“They’re fucking terrifying, Osita. You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Oh really? You still gonna tell me I’m the worst when I take these apple pies out of the oven?” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest as you nodded over to the stove.

“Fuck, I knew it smelled good in here. Does that mean I get to-”

“Don’t you dare even think about trying to sneak a piece of these pies before tomorrow, Javier Jesús Peña! These are for Thanksgiving, and even though there’s only the 3 of us, I still made two because I know if I put a pie down in front of you, you could probably eat the whole thing by yourself, and I am not making another pie after the disaster in this tiny kitchen that I just cleaned up.” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, trying to give him your best stern face, the two of you snickering at each other as you tried to scold him.

“Fine, fine. No pies.” Javi laughed, holding up his hands in defense. “Not even just a little-”

“Javi! No!” You shook your head, slapping his arm as he looked back over at the oven before looking back at you, a sly smirk spreading across his face. Grabbing at the meat of your thighs, he slotted himself in the empty space of your legs, spread open as you sat on the counter. His hands quickly slid up towards your waist, creeping under the hem of his sweatshirt you were wearing as he caged his chest against yours, nipping at your neck, his words hot and heavy on your skin. “Javi….” You moaned, tipping your head back as his kisses traveled down to your collarbone and hands tugged at the waistband of your sweatpants. “Javi, I’m gonna burn these pies, I don’t wanna have to make them again or explain to your dad that they’re burnt to a crisp because his son cannot keep his hands off me for more than 30 seconds. They only need to be in the oven for like-”

“10 more minutes?” Javi quickly cut you off, now beginning to slide your sweatpants down your thighs, firmly pressing his hands along the soft flesh of your now bare legs. “Oh, don’t worry, I saw the timer, Hermosa. Baby, you know I can take care of you in 10 minutes, now I just wanna see how many times I can get you off before the pies are done.”

“Seriously? You’re timing yourself? Are we placing bets on this too, while we’re at it? You are absolutely ridiculous, Javi, I swear.” You tried your best to roll your eyes, but as his hands crept down, palming the already wet patch that had been growing in your underwear, it was hard to pretend you were even annoyed in the slightest. Your breath hitched as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, shuffling them down your legs as he placed his hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing them open to reveal the slick of your arousal that had already been pooling between them. Gently, he ran his fingers through your folds, barley grazing over your clit before dropping to his knees, coming face to face with your dripping heat.

“3.” He said, carefully kissing along the inside of your legs, making his way closer and closer to your entrance.

“3 what?” You replied, trying your best to stay focused on anything Javi was saying as his nose bumped against your throbbing bundle of nerves, practically feeling his smirk against your pussy as he darted his eyes up at you.

“3 times. I bet I can make you cum 3 times before the timer goes off.”

“You’re a fucking menace, Javier Peña, you know that right?” You sighed, gripping your hands against the edge of the counter, feeling your cunt clench, desperate for him to ease the ache between your legs.

“Only for you, Hermosa. Solo para ti (Only for you).” Javi looked up at you, shooting you a quick wink before licking a broad stroke against your clit, making you gasp and your jaw go slack as you moaned breathlessly. That was all it took before he dove in, a man on a mission to make you cum as many times as he could in the few minutes he had. Your legs draped over his broad shoulders, his fingertips squeezing into the flesh of your hips as his pace became rapid and intense, licking and sucking at your clit in a way that had you writing on the counter, tugging at the dark curls of his hair for any sort of relief.

“Javi, holy shit baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only making him press his tongue firmer against you. Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. You could feel the tingling beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, pulling his head closer to your soaking core, desperate for more. “Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you, your body trembling at Javi’s relentless pace as he still worked at you as you came.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet, hermosa. Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.” Javi smirked, his mustache covered in your slick as he peeked over at the timer counting down on the stove. “7 minutes? Plenty of fucking time, Osita. You want my fingers, pretty girl?” He mewled, satisfied as he stared at the soaking wet mess between your legs, knowing you were still needy for more.

“Mhmmmmhhh. Please, Javi, please.” You whimpered, your hand still buried deep in the brown locks of his hair, pleading for relief as your cunt clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Such a good girl, asking so nicely.” He cooed, slowly pushing his two fingers into your already drenched core, making you gasp at the thickness now filling you, bumping against the soft spongy spot that made your toes curl and your jaw go slack. Already so worked up from just moments ago, as soon as Javi’s mouth was back on your throbbing clit, you could feel yourself beginning to clench around Javi’s hand, arousal pooling in your belly. His fingers slid easily in and out of your heat, his hand and mouth working at a persistent pace as he felt you squirm under him, knowing how close you were again.

Your second orgasm hit you even harder than your first, moaning and panting incoherently as you tensed around the thickness of Javi’s digits, soaking his hand as he feverishly lapped up your slick, only removing his mouth after he knew you had come down from your second high to smirk up at you with a devilishly smug grin. He ran his free hand along your leg, grasping at your thigh as his other hand still slowly pulsed inside you, his fingers curling ever so slightly to the spot he knew would get him to his goal. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t even blame him for self-satisfied smile- Javi knew just as well as you that he knew how to work you in all the right ways to get you exactly where he wanted you. “Gimme one more just like this, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna watch that pretty face when you cum. ” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm.

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

“That’s it, baby. Let it all go, hermosa. Fuck, you look so good like this. Can’t believe you’re all fuckin’ mine. God, you’re so perfect.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean before rising up off his knees, taking his time to plant soft kisses along your body before grabbing your face, pressing his lips against yours the taste of you still tangy on his tongue. It wasn’t long until the beep of the oven timer was ringing through your kitchen, making Javi’s smug smirk only grow wider. “See? Told you I could do it 3 times before the pies were done.”

“Jesus Christ…” You swatted at him, trying to catch your breath, the two of you laughing and shaking your heads as he helped you slide down off the counter before pulling your sweatpants back up over your legs, walking over towards the oven. “If you think this was gonna change my mind about you getting a piece tonight, it’s not.” You raised an eyebrow at him, throwing on an oven mitt before reaching in to pull out the pies, sweet and steaming as they rested on the counter.

“Not even just a-”

You turned around, trying your best to give him your most stern look without bursting into giggles, making Javi hold his hands up in defense, stopping mid-sentence. “You can have all the pie you want tomorrow, you hungry, horny menace.” You laughed, taking off your oven mitt and pointing it at him.

Tomorrow.

He couldn’t help but smile knowing that in less than 24 hours, tomorrow meant a lot more than just getting to eat the apple pies that had just come out of the oven.

Javi felt like a little boy on Christmas morning. Sleep was an incredibly inaccurate way to describe the anticipated tossing and turning he had done all night, his heart racing excitedly as he counted down the moments until he finally got down on one knee, and asked you to be his wife. It didn’t take much to get Javi out of bed bright and early, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he planted a soft kiss on the tangled and sleepy waves of your hair as you laid face down, snoring into your pillow, before sneaking out of your room into the kitchen.

As you shifted over in bed, reaching for Javi to pull him closer to you in your half asleep state, you scrunched your face, blinking as you looked over to find an empty space beside you, the sheets of Javi’s of the mattress left in a tangled pile in his place. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you looked up to see the sunrise creeping through the cracks of your curtains, painting your bedroom walls in golden rays and silhouettes, blowing in the soft breeze from your cracked window. Reaching your arms over your head and letting out a big yawn, you crawled out of bed, shuffling across the carpet of your bedroom to your dresser to pull out another one of Javi’s sweatshirts before opening your door to hear the sounds of sizzling and popping coming from the kitchen. Creeping down the hallway, you peeked your head around the corner to see Javi and his messy, sleepy curls cooking away, working on what seemed to be like bacon and eggs, sitting next to an already completed giant pile of pancakes.

“Are we having breakfast for 12 this morning?” You giggled, your voice still soft and sleepy as you smiled at Javi, walking into the kitchen and hugging him from behind, snaking your arms around his waist, resting your body against his broad back. “You didn’t have to do all this, Jav. I didn’t know you were getting up to make breakfast this morning, I could have gotten up and helped.”

Javi set down his spatula, turning to face you, gently cupping your jaw as placed a soft kiss on your lips and forehead, squeezing you in a tight hug. “Good morning to you too, Hermosa. I know you didn’t. I wanted to surprise you and bring you breakfast in bed, but I guess I should have known better that you would be up before then.” He chuckled as you hoisted yourself up onto the counter, sitting next to the stack of pancakes you now noticed were separated by both blueberries and chocolate chips. He reached beside him, handing you the mug of coffee he had poured, gladly taking a generous sip before watching him finish up the rest of the scrambled eggs on the stove.

“Surprise Thanksgiving breakfast?” You laughed, tilting your head in confusion as you looked over at Javi before reaching down to grab a chocolate chip pancake, taking a bite and letting out a satisfied sigh.

Javi tried his best to keep calm and nonchalant, giving a little shrug as he scraped the eggs off the pan onto one of the empty plates, handing it over to you. “It’s uh- it’s your first Thanksgiving away from home, I don’t know- I know you love breakfast, I just wanted to make it special for you, I guess.”

“Well-” You paused, taking a big fork full of eggs, nodding your head as you chewed, “Oh my god these are good-” finally swallowing before finishing the rest of your thought, “You’re very sweet, and I am very, very thankful for you, and your delicious breakfast.” You grinned, leaning over to give Javi a kiss on the cheek on his scratchy, morning stubble as he dropped the rest of the eggs on to his plate, setting it to the side as he hooked his arms under your thighs, making you squeal as you draped his arms around your neck and locked your legs around the small of your back as he spun you around, peppering ticklish kisses against your soft skin.

“I’m so thankful for you too, Osita. Fuck, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that? I love you so goddamn much.” His sweet, brown eyes locked with yours as your hands ran through the soft curls of his hair before tracing along his cheek, your thumb rubbing soft circles along his jaw.

“I love you too, Jav. Someone’s feeling sappy this morning.” You prodded, giving him one last quick peck before unwrapping your legs and setting your feet back on the ground, grabbing your plate and heading over to the couch to turn on the TV. Javi looked at the ground sheepishly, feeling the heat creep through his flushed face.

You didn’t even know the fucking half of it.

Javi had spent the rest of the morning trying his best to stay as even keeled as possible, but with how fast his heart had been beating since the moment he had gotten out of bed, he was surprised you hadn’t asked if he was having a heart attack as you pressed your head against his chest, cuddling up together on the couch to watch the rest of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade after finishing your huge breakfast.

“Awh yes!” You grasped at Javi’s shirt, shaking the fist fulls of fabric in excitement as you stared at Santa’s sleigh now making its way across the TV screen. “Christmas time is finally here!” Javi shook his head, laughing to himself at the number of times you had already broughten up how excited you were for Christmas since the day November had started. “Are you gonna hate me if I start decorating and listening to Christmas music tomorrow?” You grimaced, twisting your head to look up at Javi.

“Jesus Christ, you weren’t kidding, huh? You really wanna start setting out Christmas shit tomorrow?”

“I will hold off until December 1st if I absolutely have to, but just know, each day that passes until then will kill me slowly.”

“And I’m the ridiculous one?”

“Pendejo.” You grumbled, giving him a nudge.

“You love me. That’s fine baby, I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.”

“Honestly, it’s only because I actually really do also like Thanksgiving, it deserves it's time to shine, too. Oh, speaking of which, I wanna call my family just to say hi really quick before we start getting ready to leave, is that okay?” You asked, pushing yourself up off the couch.

“Uh, yeah- yeah of course that’s fine, Hermosa.” He replied, seeming surprisingly flustered by your question. You obviously hadn’t seemed to notice, walking over to grab your phone off the receiver before punching in your house phone number, holding it up to your ear as the dial tone rang repeatedly. A confused look spread across your face as the ringing ended in your mom’s familiar voicemail, giving Javi a puzzled shrug as you left your message.

“Hi everyone, it’s me! Just wanted to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving! I miss you guys! If you try and call and I don’t answer, we’re over at Javi’s dad’s- Javi says hi too. Okay, well if I don’t talk to you later, then tell David not to eat too much gravy so he doesn’t shit his pants again. Love you!” You pressed the red button, ending your call as you set the phone back down. “That’s so weird that no one answered, they should all be home right now.”

“I’m sure they’re fine, baby. They’re probably just busy. I’m sure you’ll talk to them later.” He smiled, giving your outstretched hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should probably start getting ready, when did your dad want us over again?”

“He said to take our time, he’ll have food ready whenever we get over there.”

“Well I feel bad that he’s there waiting all by himself. I’m good to hop in the shower if you are?” You suggested, pulling him up to stand from the couch.

“Don’t worry about me for the shower, I’ll clean up the rest of breakfast and you can start getting ready, okay?” Javi rubbed his hand along your arm, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“Jav, you made me breakfast, the least I can do is help clean-”

“Osita. I know you’d help me clean up. I want to, okay? I wanted to get up and make breakfast for you, I’m not gonna let you clean up my mess.”

“Fine, Mr. Stubborn. Thank you. You sure I can’t-”

“Go get your ass in the shower, hermosa.” Javi gestured towards the bathroom, giving your butt a quick smack before heading down the hallway into the bathroom.

In all honesty, cleaning the dishes was the last thing Javi had on his mind as he was finally able to get you into the bathroom. Once he heard the water on and the shower curtain open, he snuck his way into the bedroom, digging through his sock drawer to pull out the giant sock ball with your ring buried inside it. Pulling the velvet case out of the fabric, Javi carefully opened the box, smiling at the glimmer of the piece of shiny jewelry, picturing how perfect it would look finally wrapped around your finger. He slipped the case into one of the inside pockets of his jacket, squeezing his hand around the fabric, as if to make sure this was actually happening. Quietly, he grabbed his cell phone from his nightstand, dialing up Chucho, anxiously chewing at the inside of his lip as he waited for his dad to answer.

“Hola, hijo.” Chucho answered, his voice filled with excitement and glee.

“Hey, Pops. She just started getting ready so I’m guessing we’ll be there in like, an hour and a half?” His dad could practically hear Javi’s nerves and anxiety now beginning to build as the realization that he was hours away from proposing was finally starting to hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Perfect. Everything and everyone will be ready, don’t worry, Mijo.” Chucho chuckled, trying to ease his son’s tension.

“Okay.” Javi’s response was short and unassuring as he ran his free hand through his dark curls before resting his hand on his hip.

“Javier. Tiene planeada un día mas perfecto para ella. Así que respiremos profundamente, todo está yendo bien. A ella le encantaría. Casi tanto como elle te ama.” (Javier, you have planned the most perfect day for her. Take a deep breath, it will all be okay. She will love it. Almost as much as she loves you). Javi took a long inhale, his dad 's words comforting him as his exhale followed.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Claro, hijo (Of course, son). We will see you and your futura esposa (future wife) soon.”

“Te veré pronto. (I’ll see you soon) Bye.”

Hearing the water from your shower turn off, Javi rushed back into the kitchen, speed washing every dish and pan to make sure it looked like he had made good on his promise to clean up after himself while you were getting ready in the bathroom. With the dishwasher full and running, Javi made his way down the hall to see you standing in front of the bathroom mirror, wrapped in your towel, and starting to put on your makeup. He couldn’t help but gawk at you- Javi watching you get ready had become a staple in your relationship very early on, the two of you talking as Javi rested his hip on the counter, or sat on the lid of the toilet seat, smiling to himself, in awe of every beautiful part of you. But there was something about the way that Javi was staring at you right now as you peeked your head out of the bathroom that made your heart flutter. It wasn’t the I’d fuck you right now against the bathroom counter look that had become just as much of a staple as Javi watching you get ready, it wasn’t even the sweet, flirty look he’d give you when he just wanted to let you know how cute you were. The way Javi looked at you as you stood there in your fluffy towel, makeup half done and hair wet and tangled from the shower was a look that put butterflies in your stomach. He looked at you like you were the only person in the world. That he didn’t care if anyone else existed beside you. That you were the only person he ever wanted to look at like this.

“What’s that look for?” You blushed, setting down your mascara to stare back at him.

“You’re just- Fuck. You’re so beautiful, Osita. Everything about you. I’m so lucky.” Javi’s words were soft and gentle, his sweet brown eyes making you melt as they soaked in every inch of you.

“Does Thanksgiving always make you this sappy?” You giggled, biting down on your lip before turning back to the mirror. “Thanks, Jav. I hope you know I feel equally as lucky. Now go get your cute butt in the shower so we don’t have to make your dad wait any longer. I need to find the loosest fitting outfit I have so I can make room for when I eat my bodyweight in mashed potatoes.”

By the time Javi was finished getting ready, you were already out in the kitchen wrapping up the pies you had made last night to safely get to Chucho’s without any sneaky tampering from Javi.

“Well, you look handsome.” You smirked, watching Javi walk down the hallway in one of his dark washed pairs of tight jeans, paired with a tan button up and black jacket overtop of it. Javi’s jaw just about dropped as he watched you make your way out from around the counter, showing off the cute, burnt orange dress you had put on over your cream colored turtleneck.

“Me? Jesus Christ, look at you, Osita.” You giggled as you pressed up on your tiptoes, giving him a quick kiss as you draped your arms over his neck.

“Oh shhhh. Thank you, Jav. You ready to leave?” You smiled up at him, Javi praying you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was racing as he caged his chest against yours, thinking about the last drive he was ever about to make with you before you went from girlfriend to fiancé.

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Can I trust you to carry the other pie on the way down to the car without eating any of it?” You laughed, rolling your eyes as you reached over the counter to hand him the tin foil covered dessert.

“Yes, you can trust me. I think I left my phone in the bedroom, let me just go grab it really quick and then we can go, okay?” You nodded at him as he quickly made his way back to your room, cell phone already tucked away in his pants when he put on his jeans 15 minutes ago. He looked over his shoulder to check and make sure you hadn’t followed behind, pulling out the ring box one last time, taking a deep breath before giving it a little squeeze and stashing it back in his pocket.

It was really fucking happening.

As the two of you began your drive to what you assumed was Chucho’s, Javi turned up the volume of the CD he had picked out to play in the car, “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac now bumping through the speakers. He reached over the center console, intertwining your fingers with his as he grabbed your hand, smiling over at you as the melodic intro began. “This song always makes me think of the first night I ever stayed over at your apartment. All you had to eat was fuckin’ mac and cheese.”

“Oh my God, I remember that. I was so embarrassed because I had nothing else to eat and I didn’t want you to think I was a crazy person who only ate like a 10 year old. God, that feels like forever ago.” Running your free hand over your face, the two of you laughed over the melodic soundtrack playing in the background, the memory of that night making your heart grow warm.

“I guess. Honestly, it still almost feels like it was yesterday. I just remember how fucking nervous I was the whole goddamn night.”

“With how many times we fucked that night, you really didn’t seem nervous.” You giggled, rubbing your thumb over the rough skin of his hand interlaced with yours.

“I was. I was so nervous I was gonna fuck something up, because I knew I was already so fucking in love with you, and it scared the shit out of me. No one else has ever made me feel like you do. I knew from that day on I never wanted to live without you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I felt the exact same. We’ve come a long way since then, huh?” The two of you smiled at each other as you leaned your head over to rest on Javi’s shoulder, Javi pressing a tender kiss in your hair, the sweet and familiar smell of your shampoo flooding him with comfort, easing his nerves just a touch as changed course from his usual route to the ranch, making you perk back up in confusion.

“Since when do we go this way to your dad’s house? We’ve never gone this way before.” You questioned, a puzzled look spreading across your face.

“I know. Just trust me, okay?” He grinned softly, giving you a reassuring squeeze of his hand.

“Okay?” You replied wearily, giving Javi a suspicious look. “What the hell are you up to?”

“Osita. Just trust me.”

“Fine, I should know better than to ask questions at this point, I know you’re not gonna tell me anything. Do I get a hint?”

“No, you dork.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled, resting your head back against Javi as he drove the two of you down an unfamiliar path, the sounds of Fleetwood Mac filling the comfortable silence between you.

It wasn’t long until the road you were on started to become vaguely familiar, peeking out the window of the truck to try and piece together why your surroundings felt so recognizable. It wasn’t until you saw the white “For Sale” sign, now covered with “SOLD” in bright, red letters, peeking out of the tree lined driveway that you began to put two and two together.

“Wait… Isn’t this the place that we went to go see for Steve’s friend a couple weeks ago?” You asked, looking back at Javi as he slowed the speed of the truck, beginning to turn into the driveway.

“Mmmhhmm.” Javi nodded, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel.

“It- It looks like he must have bought it, so why are we back here? Are you sure he’s fine with us just like, showing up here?” You were absolutely stumped as to why you were back at the plot of land you had gone to check out for Steve’s friend after his Halloween party until you rounded the corner along the “For Sale” sign.

“Yeah, I think he’ll be okay with it.” Javi smirked, gazing over at you.

Then all of a sudden, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

The conversation you had overheard between Javi and Steve at the Halloween party.

The reason why he had asked you to come look at this place for Steve’s buddy.

Why “SOLD” was plastered over the for sale sign.

You could physically feel your jaw drop, hanging open so wide, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had dropped through the floor of Javi’s truck. Your eyes grew as you looked over at Javi, your head darting back between him and the trees lining the driveway, practically frozen in shock.

“Javi…” You whispered, your breath shaky and trembling from the butterflies building in your stomach. His silence had never felt more comforting, simply smiling back at you before putting the truck into park, hopping out to make his way to the driver’s side, opening the door for you. You quickly wiped your palms against your dress, feeling how sweaty they had become from the nerves building inside you before sliding out of your seat, walking hand in hand with Javi the last few feet down the driveway before the trees opened to the open, grassy field hidden behind it, just as charming and beautiful as you remembered it.

You had been so focused on the view in front of you, you hadn’t even noticed Javi tugging your hand over towards the old oak tree on the side of the property, wrapped in twinkling string lights and pictures of the two of you. Under the tree, a big plaid blanket laid spread across the grass, covered in piles of cute pillows and surrounded by a few candles and vases of beautiful orange and red flowers resting on the ground. You felt your heart race, knots of anticipation building in your stomach as you quickly began to realize the “SOLD” sign wasn’t the only thing Javi was trying to surprise you with.

Holy fuck, he was going to propose to you, too.

You used every last brain cell in you to try and form anything close to a coherent sentence, but the best you could get out as the two of you reached the blanket under the towering tree was a jumbled mess of tangled words, spilling from your mouth. “Javi- What, are- Baby, is this- Javi, I, I- Holy shit.” Your hands trembled as you reached out for one of the pictures hung around the base of the tree- One Chucho must have taken one of the days the two of you were out on the ranch, Javi carrying you on his back as the two of you laughed at each other with stupid grins on your face. You could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest, tears already beginning to well behind your eyes as you looked up at Javi.

“That one’s always been one of my favorites. You look so happy, Osita.” He whispered, rubbing his hand along your back as the two of you stared at the photo, Javi pressing a soft kiss against your head, letting out a shaky exhale as he pulled away. Grabbing your hand, he turned towards you, the Adam’s apple of his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to compose himself before he spoke again. “All I ever want is for you to be happy, baby.”

You let out an audible gasp, covering your trembling hands over your mouth as you watched Javi lower himself down onto one knee, tears welling behind those sweet brown eyes as he smiled up at you with that familiar gaze you realized you would now never have to live without.

“Osita. Baby, you make me the happiest man in the world. I don’t think I ever truly understood what it felt like to be this happy until I met you. I couldn’t be more thankful that your clumsy ass bumped into me all those months ago, because there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since I’ve met you that my life hasn’t been better, because you’re in it. You’re everything I never knew I needed, and everything I never thought I deserved. You are the most beautiful, kind, and loving woman I’ve ever met. You’re also the most stubborn, headstrong, independent woman I have ever met, and I love every perfect part of you that makes you the person I feel head over heels in love with. From the moment I met you, I couldn’t imagine how I could spend the rest of my life without you. I wanna spend forever with you, Osita. I wanna give you the world. I wanna start our lives together here. I wanna build you a house, I wanna fill it with as many kids as you want, I wanna spend the rest of my life here with you, because if I have that, that’s all I’ll ever need. You’re all I’ll ever need.”

Javi’s hands shook as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the little velvet box that had been hidden inside, carefully opening the case to reveal the beautiful, oval cut diamond, nestled between little clusters of smaller stones, resting on top of a dainty and simple gold band. You could feel the tears streaming down your grinning cheeks, still trying to comprehend what was happening as Javi held the ring up towards you.

“Osita, I love you so much. Te amo más que a mi vida (I love you more than life itself). Baby, will you marry me?”

Javi could barely finish the question before you were jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could, sobbing into his shoulder as the two of you fell onto the blanket, bodies tangled in each other as you laid on top of him.

“Of course. Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot. I love you so much.”

You laughed through your tears, grabbing his face, your lips meeting in an electric moment that made everything else around you stand still. You could feel each other’s grins against your parted mouths, laying back down on top of Javi squeezing him as tightly as you could to try and ground yourself in the reality of what had just happened.

“I think I’m supposed to put the ring on your finger now, you dork.” He laughed, pushing you both to sit up as he grabbed the case that had landed next to him on the blanket, cautiously taking out the ring, his thumb rubbing over the knuckles of your outstretched hand as he slipped onto your finger, the both of you staring at it in awe.

“Javi… Baby, holy shit this is beautiful. How did you- When did you-”

“It was my mom’s.” He grinned, biting down on his lip as he watched the ring sparkle on your finger before looking back up at you, the tears now building in both your eyes again. “When uh- In the end, before she passed, she always told me if I ever found someone, I could have it. I kinda wrote it off because I didn’t think I’d ever find anyone, let alone find you. I know I never really asked you what you wanted or liked, but-”

“Javi. It’s perfect.” You cupped his cheeks, your face beaming with joy as you shook your head still in absolute shock. As if the ring on your finger wasn’t enough, you looked back out at the green grass swaying in the gentle breeze, reminded of the fact that not only did Javi want you to be his wife, but this man had just told you he was about to build you a fucking house. “You really bought this? We’re gonna build a house here? This is all ours?”

“It’s all ours, Hermosa. Whatever you want, baby, I’ll build it for you.” Javi's face lit up watching the excitement radiating from you, your eyes darting back between the ring on your finger and the beautiful plot of land in front of you, trying to take everything in.

“You’re being serious? Like actually? We’re really gonna build a house here?” You asked, still trying to process.

“Yes, seriously.” Javi nodded, smiling at you as you shook your head in disbelief, burying your head in your hands and squealing before shooting up, running over to the middle of the empty plot grass, spinning in a circle, imagining the possibilities of what was to come.

“So we can have a big kitchen? And huge windows so it’s always sunny inside? And a porch on the back deck that we can watch the sunset? And a-”

“Baby, we can have whatever you want.” Javi chuckled to himself as you stood there for a moment, taking it all in before running back over to him, once again, tackling him to the ground pressing frantic kisses against his lips.

“We can finally have a bedroom big enough for a king size bed? Where we can hang out all day? And watch the sunrise? And have plenty of space to fuck my husband?” You smirked, feeling Javi’s cock twitch against the denim of his jeans as you laid on top of him. Javi let out a low groan as you hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to palm at the bulge straining against his zipper.

“Say it again.” He rasped, planting hot, wet kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin.

“My husband. You’re gonna be my husband, Javier Peña.”

Husband.

Oh fuck, did that do something to do him hearing you say that out loud.

Grabbing you by the hips, he quickly flipped you over, your back resting on the blanket as he hovered over you, trailing kisses down every inch of your body before his palms pushed up the hem of your dress, grasping at the meat of your thighs. He cupped his hand against your core, already feeling the wetness that had begun to pool in your underwear, carefully hooking his fingers under the waistband before sliding it down your legs.

“Again, baby. Say it again.” He mewled, running his fingers between your folds, collecting your arousal as his thumb circled around your clit, making your breath shake as you spoke again.

“Husband. Fuck, Javi, I’m gonna be your wife.”

Now that, that one really did something to him.

“You’re gonna be my fucking wife.” Javi’s tongue darted between his parted lips as he sunk his two fingers deep inside you, making you moan beneath him. “I’m gonna be your fucking husband. I’m gonna take such good care of you, Osita. I’ll give you everything. Anything you want, Hermosa, I’ll give it to you.” His touch had you writing, bucking your hips against his hand as he thumbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers curved ever so slightly, pressing against the soft spongy spot that made your pussy throb even more intensely than it already was. Javi’s forehead rested against yours, your noses brushing against each other as your words escaped from the soft, smirking curve of your lips, thinking about Javi’s promise.

“Anything? You’re gonna give me a house, your last name…you gonna give me a baby, too? Make you a husband and a daddy?”

Holy shit, you were really trying to fucking kill him.

Just the thought of that alone was enough for Javi to let out an audible groan, biting down on his tongue and taking a deep breath to compose himself so that he didn’t bust right that second. “Jesus Christ…” he growled, quickly removing his fingers, already soaked with your juices, making you whimper at the rapid loss. Frantically, he undid his belt buckle, sliding his pants and boxers down his thighs to reveal his already hard cock, his tip red and leaking with precum. That was all it took before Javi was stroking himself, lining his tip up with your entrance and flushing his hips against yours, feeling his length bottom all the way out against your cervix, making you whine at his fullness inside you. You’d be lying if you said the idea alone hadn’t made you so wet and worked up, that even though Javi had barely spent any time working you open with his fingers, he still slid into your heat effortlessly.

“Fuckkkk meeee, Osita.” He grunted, already beginning to press into you at a rushed, sloppy pace. You had come to find out that while Javi had impressive stamina, there were times that the little things you said or did to him made him absolutely lose his mind. It would leave him so worked up and on edge, that his endurance flew out the window, barely standing a chance at lasting more than a few quick minutes buried inside you. Given your comment, the rate he was snapping his hips into yours, and that all too familiar lustful look in his eyes, you already knew he was a goner.

You grasped at fist fulls of his jacket, digging your fingers into the fabric as Javi punched deep into the spot that made your vision go white, feeling your cunt already beginning to clench around his cock as he rubbed his fingers frantically along your clit. “You want me to give you a baby, Osita? Shit- I’ll give you as many babies as you want. We’ll fill up every fucking room in this house. I’d fuck a baby into right now if I could. You’d like that, huh?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his strokes rapid and punishing as he punched against your g-spot, watching you whimper beneath him.

“Fuckkk, yes, Javi- ahhhh- Jesus, I want it so bad. I want everything with you, baby.”

“Fuck, Hermosa, I’m close- I can feel how close you are too, baby. So tight and wet. Give it to me, Osita. Want you to cum all over my cock before I fuck you full of me.” With a few more strokes, you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine as your orgasm ripped through you, euphoria flooding through your veins across your body. Your moans and cries as you tightened around Javi’s dick had him moments away from coming undone just as fast as you had, his rambling becoming just as fast and boundless as his last few pumps inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be such a good wife- oh shit- such a good mom. I can’t until we can have a family to raise here- I can’t believe-ahhhh- I can’t believe your mine forever. Can’t believe I get to marry you, fuck a baby into you, holy shit, fuck, fuck- ohhhhhhh-” With one final thrust, Javi buried himself deep in your hilt, milking himself of every last drop of his spend, slumping into you, your chests rising and falling in unison as you both came down from your blissed out highs before pulling out from the wet mess between you.

“Well fuck me…” You giggled, running your hand over your face, smirking back up at Javi.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Osita. I’d apologizing for fucking busting so quick, but goddamn, if you keep saying shit like that, I swear…” The two of you laughed, Javi picking up the hand covering your face, kissing the ring now wrapped around your finger before leaning down to meet your lips in a long, tender kiss.

“You liked that, huh?” You smirked up at him, biting down on your lip as he nipped at your ear, his voice low and raspy as his hot breath pressed against your skin.

“Baby, if you keep talking like that, I swear to God, I’m gonna find a way to beat your birth control and fuck a baby into you right this second.”

“I meannnnn, I wouldn’t be mad about it. You better stop saying shit before I run home and toss my birth control pills out the window, never to be seen again. No, no, this is bad, Jav! We aren’t even married yet, Jesus! We cannot be talking like this until we at least make that happen and we build this house. One step at a time.” You sighed, shaking your head and laughing to yourself as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before swiping his thumb along your bottom lip.

“One step at a time.” He repeated, softly gazing into your eyes, his sweet chocolate brown stare making you melt beneath him. “I love you so fucking much, Osita.”

“Te amo hasta la luna y de regreso, Javier Peña.” (I love you to the moon and back). I still can’t believe you did all this for me. I would have been happy with anything, but a proposal and surprise house combination is pretty fuckin’ tough to beat. Thank you, Javi. For everything. I am the luckiest woman in the world. I honestly still can’t believe this, oh my God.”

“There’s still one more surprise.” Javi grinned, his comment making you sit up in shock.

“Javi. Seriously? How could there possibly be any more surprises? Did you get me a fucking unicorn too?”

“Last one, I promise.”

Javi grunted as he pushed himself up to stand, extending his arm down to you to help pull you towards him. You couldn't help but wrap your arms around him, squeezing your body against the warm familiar space of his, staring out into the blank canvas that would be yours and Javi’s home. The two of you stood there for a moment in silence, smiles stretched wide across your faces as you held each other in the crisp November breeze, feeling like the only two people in the world to exist. No one but you and him. You had Javier Peña forever, and you were never letting go.

As you had finally come to grips with the reality of what had just happened on the actual car ride over to the Peña ranch, you could feel your head spinning with questions as to how in the world Javi had managed to pull all of this off.

“Wait okay, so when did you get the ring? You hid it really well, I had no idea you even had it. Did you set all of this stuff up? When the hell did you go buy this beautiful piece of land we’re about to build a house on? How long have you been-”

“Jesus Hermosa, one at a time.” Javi chuckled, resting his hand on your thigh to try and slow your interrogation as he drove.

“Sorry, sorry. I still can’t believe you did all of this, I wanna know all the details now! Okay, the ring- I’ll start there. God, it’s so pretty.” You beamed, holding out your hand in front of you to stare at it.

“I got it from my dad after my birthday party. Believe me, I would have done this sooner, but all the stuff with buying the fucking land was a pain in my ass, and took way longer than I thought it was going to. I put the offer in right before we left for Chicago, and didn’t close on everything until like 2 weeks ago. ” Javi sighed, shaking his head.

“Yeah Jav, I’m SO upset you didn’t get this beautiful piece of land to build our dream house on and propose to me a few weeks sooner, I’m calling it all off.” You joked, your voice oozing with sarcasm as Javi rolled his eyes at you.

“Pendejo.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked to marry me. When did you decide building a house was gonna be a part of this whole plan?” You asked, smirking over at Javi, giving him a little nudge across the center console.

“For a while now. I looked at a few houses after I got the ring, but nothing felt right. My dad built our house on the ranch when he and my mom got married, and after talking with him, it was the only thing that made sense. I want our house to be everything we want. Everything you want.” He smiled, tracing his thumb in soft circles along your leg.

“Javi, we could live in a cardboard box together and I would be happy. I don’t care as long as I’m with you. Although, I’m not mad about it.” The both of you laughed to yourselves, stupid grins on your faces. “So like, are you gonna build it? Not that I don’t trust your construction skills, but that seems like a lotta house for one man.”

“Jesus, no. My cousin Danny’s a contractor- I talked to him when I was thinking about doing all of this. He helped me find the place and already agreed to start building whenever we’re ready. I told him obviously we would help whenever we could, and my dad has already offered to help too- he’s about to be over there every day, because he’s convinced the sooner the house is built, the sooner he gets his grandkids.”

“I think he may be the most excited out of anyone.” You giggled, shaking your head. “So he obviously knows about all this? Did he help with setting everything up?”

“Yeah, he had some help too.” Javi smiled as the two of you pulled into the driveway of the Peña ranch, the sun slowly beginning to set behind the horizon, the golden rays spilling in through the windows of his truck as he shifted it into park. He quickly got out, hopping around to your side of the car to open your door, taking your hand and helping you down after planting a soft kiss on your lips.

The two of you walked hand in hand up to the house, giddy with excitement to finally talk with Chucho about everything Javi had surprised you with today, almost forgetting that the 3 of you still had Thanksgiving to celebrate on top of everything else. “Oh shit, the pies!” You exclaimed, getting ready to run back to the truck before Javi grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’ll go get them in a minute, let’s go inside, okay?” He insisted, dragging you back towards the house.

“Javi, it’ll take like 2 seconds, I-”

“Ostia. Just go inside, okay?”

“Fine, fine!” You laughed, reaching your hand down to twist open the doorknob, looking up at Javi’s boyish grin. “I just don’t understand why-”

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, THEY’RE HERE! AHHHHHHH HONEY!”

You stood there for a moment, wondering who the hell was screeching at the top of their lungs, ambushing you in a hug that felt more like a death grip than anything else. It took a second before you processed the all too familiar voice and arms wrapped around your body, making your heart race and tears begin to fall down your face.

“Wait, wha- Wait Mom?! What are you-”

“Oh sweetheart, oh my God! BOYS! GET YOUR ASSES OUT HERE! COME CONGRATULATE YOUR SISTER.” Your Mom shouted over your shoulder, still squeezing you in her arms, shaking you frantically. “JAVI, HONEY, AH WE ARE SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” Your mom shrieked, pulling Javi in for just as tight of a hug as the one you had just gotten a few seconds earlier before turning back to you, squeezing you again.

“Wait, everyone- Mom, what the fuck? What are you- wait, what are you all doing here?” Finally beginning to come to, you pulled away from your mom to see not only Chucho, but your dad, brothers, and nieces all smiling back at your awestruck face.

“Language honey, Jesus, just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean you get to swear at your mom.” She swatted at you, rolling her eyes.

You took another step back as your eyes darted between Javi and your family, your jaw hanging open in absolute shock. “But when did you- how did- Wait, what is happening?” You ran your hands through your hair, head swiveling back and forth, looking for someone to explain how the hell your family had ended up here, at the Peña Ranch in Laredo, Texas.

Shuffling up behind your mom, your dad greeted you, pulling you in for a quick hug and little noogie on your arm before doing the same to Javi, standing between the two of you as he spoke. “Once this kid knew when he was gonna propose, he wanted to find a way for us to be there. He knew how much you didn’t wanna miss Thanksgiving, which I don’t fucking understand, I thought you were gettin’ a get outta jail free card from these idiots,” He gestured over at Charlie and David, shrugging in agreement before turning back to you, “Javi asked if we wanted to come down here for Thanksgiving so we could celebrate it and spend it with you. You found a good one, kiddo.”

“Congrats, asshat. If there’s hope for you, then there’s hope for us all, isn’t there?” David snickered, giving you a playful punch before patting you on the back for a hug.

“To say there’s hope for you is generous.” You smirked at David, elbowing him back as Olivia squealed, running up to you with her arms outstretched, her patience running out as she waited for the grownups to finish talking.

“AUNTIE BEAR!”

“Cutie patootie!” You shrieked back, picking her up and spinning her around.

“Auntie Bear, did Mr. Javi do the surprise? Did you know that Mr. Chucho has cows?! And horses!? I got to go pet one and Brianna did too, but she was scared and cried, but I didn’t ‘cause I’m really brave!” Olivia beamed, giggling as you gave her one last twirl as you set her back down.

“You got to go see the animals? Aren’t they so cute? Yes, Mr. Javi did the surprise, it was a really good one.” You smiled back at Javi, tears welling in your eyes, wondering how your heart could feel any fuller.

“This niñita y su hermana (little girl and her sister) took very good care of the animals this afternoon. Gracias, peque (thanks, little one).” Chucho grinned, reaching down to give Olivia a gentle high five as she bounced in excitement before looking back up at you. “Oh mija. I am so happy for you both. Your family is a hoot, I will tell you that. I see where you get your spunk from.” All of you laughed as you wrapped your arms around Chucho.

“Mr. Peña, that’s a very nice way of calling us the biggest bunch of annoying idiots you’ve ever met, so thank you.” Charlie remarked, making everyone laugh equally as hard as he leaned against you, holding your other niece, Brianna as he ruffled your hair. “I’m so happy for you, Cubby. Natalie says she wishes she could be here, but with the baby, she couldn’t make it out.”

“I’d ask if she was mad, but considering you got these two little monsters and yourself out of her hair, I’m guessing she’s kind of relieved. Tell her we’re excited to meet baby Lucas at Christmas. Thank you, Charlie.”

Now that you had finally said hello to everyone, you turned back around to look at Javi, the look on his face only slightly smug as he winked at you, shaking your head back at him in disbelief. “You are absolutely insane, you know that?” You tried to laugh through your tears, caging your chest against Javi’s as you hugged him, wondering how in the world you had ended up so goddamn lucky. “Thank you, Javi. This is- I can’t- I don’t even know what to say. I love you so much.” Javi reached down, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face as he cupped his hand around your jaw, smiling out at your family before back down at you.

“I told you, Osita. You deserve everything. I’m glad I get to spend forever trying to give it to you. I love you too.” He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips, quickly interrupted by the sounds of Olivia’s disgust at the two of you.

“Ew, that’s really gross. Auntie Bear, do you have to kiss him now because you’re getting married? Maybe just do that when I’m not here.” She grimaced, covering her eyes and sticking out her tongue. Your family burst out in laughter, only to be interrupted once again by your mom’s excited screams.

“MARRIED! Honey, you’re getting MARRIED!”

“Jesus, Pam! I’m right here! You’re gonna blow out my fuckin’ ear drum!” Your dad winced, covering the sides of his head with his hands.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re getting married.” You replied to your mom, without breaking your stare up at Javi, your cheeks warm and full from the grins between them.

The rest of the night was spent full of joy and laughter as all of you gathered in the Peña’s kitchen for Chucho’s Thanksgiving feast, telling your family all about the surprises of your day, listening to them explain their antics of getting from Chicago to Laredo, how they had spent the day with Chucho at the ranch after helping set up for the proposal, and stories of Thanksgivings past, and the sweet memories of the family you’d wished could have been here to celebrate. The hours passed by like seconds as you ate more than your fair share of food, (excluding the pie you had made, considering Javi and your brothers practically inhaled it from the moment it was set out on the table), and laughing harder than ever as your family taught Javi and Chucho how to play “Chaos Cutlery”- your family’s version of the game “Spoons”, which wasn’t really that much different besides the element of danger involved with your competitive-ass siblings.

You truly didn’t think that your heart could get any fuller as you looked around to see all of the people you loved more than anyone in the world all gathered in once place, celebrating the happiest day you had ever had with the man you were going to get to call yours for the rest of your life. As the hours of the night grew later and later, you found yourself fighting off the sleep from your amazing, but exhausting day, not wanting the dream that had been today to come to an end. It wasn’t until Javi noticed you softly snoring against his shoulder as you were sitting on the couch, realizing the only ones left awake were him and your brothers, deep in an argument about who would win in a fight between 100,000 chickens and 10 dinosaurs, that he realized that it was probably time to get you home.

“Hermosa.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Baby, let’s get you home, okay?”

“I’m awake. I don’t want today to be done.” You grumbled, half-asleep, eyes still closed shut as you curled into Javi’s lap.

“Osita, it’s 1 in the morning, everyone else is asleep too. Your family’s here all weekend, baby, I promise we’ll get to spend lots of time with them, we gotta get you home before I fall asleep, too. C’mon.” He chuckled to himself, watching you scrunch your face, trying to wake yourself up as he helped to pull you off the couch. Javi tried his best to say goodbye to his dad to let him know you were leaving, even though he had already been sound asleep for the past hour in his chair with Olivia and Brianna on either side of him, the trio up well past their usual bedtime. Javi's heart fluttered at the sight, watching the fabric of your families lives intertwining to become one, fitting perfectly together. After you and your family said your half coherent goodbyes for the night, Javi helped hoist you up into the truck before the two of you headed back to the apartment.

Curling over the center console to rest your head against Javi’s shoulder, a sleepy smile spread across your face tangling your hand in his as he traced gentle circles with his thumb along your skin.

“Javi…” You mumbled, your eyelids heavy with sleep as your blinks grew slower and slower.

“Yeah, baby?”

“This was the best day I think I’ve ever had in my entire life. No, I know it was the best day I’ve ever had in my entire life. I can’t believe you wanna marry me. And build me a house. And that you made sure my family was here to celebrate. I love you so much, Javi. Thank you for everything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Today’s the best day I’ve ever had too, Osita.” He grinned, pulling your intertwined hand with his up to his mouth, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you too, Hermosa. I can’t imagine it without you. Te amo con todo mi corazón (I love you with all of my heart).” Javi let out a content sigh, pausing for a moment, waiting for response. It didn’t take him long to realize that you were already back asleep, the sweet sounds of your snores against his sleeve making him laugh to himself. “Dulces sueños, mi amor. Soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo. (Sweet dreams, my love. I am the luckiest man in the whole world.)

As Javi spent the rest of the drive with you propped up against his arm, he couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful gold band wrapped around your finger, resting in his lap.

Before you, Javier Peña didn’t really have much to live for. He didn’t think he’d deserved to. He was tired and broken, disappointed in the man that he had become. Now, you had become his everything. His light, his hope, the thing that made life worth living. You had taken his broken and battered pieces and put him back together. You had made him whole again. On a Wednesday in May, Javier Peña had fallen head over heels with you, the woman who would forever change his life for the better. And on Thursday in late November, the woman who had forever changed him, was now his forever, too.

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 months ago

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Pretty P.A. Chapter 3

Summary: Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion modeling agency director in the industry for the past 13 years. They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes. He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him. Change always takes time, but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her. **curvy reader** **Y/N/N = Your nickname ** Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (not from Bucky), some violence, blood, smut

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Another successful fashion week was under Olympus’ belt. Each of their models had been booked for multiple fashion houses, and they had been able to scout more models and make an impact at the parties and shows. Bucky and Y/N had been able to become closer on a more personal level, and he felt the reverence that Tony had described and talked about her with was well deserved as she made his entire life easier. Y/N was enjoying working for Bucky. They had a teasing but friendly relationship, where she supported him in whatever it was he was doing and felt at ease in giving him advice to help make his ideas better. She was very attracted to him, and at times she thought maybe she caught him giving her long looks or side glances with a heated gaze, but she squashed those feelings just as quickly.

Y/N was generally a self-assured person. She was the curviest in the entire office, and also shorter than the tall models around her. She dressed well, having her own personal style while also looking professional that helped her make the fashion connections needed for her job and make friendships with people in the industry. Being surrounded by some of the most beautiful and slender people in the world at times shook her confidence, but she had never been made to feel bad about herself by any of them. A part of her felt like Bucky could have the pick of the litter when it came to dating, so why would he pick her?

The fallout from the email Y/N had sent out to the fashion industry gained national coverage, and Brock Rumlow was currently being investigated and sued by multiple people. Alexander Pierce had no choice but to close Hydra Modeling and lost millions of dollars in the process. His models were quickly picked up by other agencies, but their stories of mistreatment and the toxic work environment they had dealt with spread quickly in the community. Bucky had a lot more media attention when it came to the lawsuits and his experience with Rumlow, and Y/N helped him handle the stress and overwhelm that came with that. He knew it would be good for the agency to be a face to the voice of the models who had been assaulted, and felt a lot of responsibility for it as well.

Y/N was accompanying Bucky to a lunch meeting to meet with a potential new designer that was looking for models. She arrived at lunch before him and the designer and decided to sit at their table and wait for them. As she got herself settled with her notebook, typing away on her phone, someone sat in front of her.

“I’m sorry that seat is saved for–” Y/N began but then froze as she looked up. Brock Rumlow sat in front of her, leaning against the table and giving her a murderous glare. Her eyes widened momentarily but her face quickly turned into a scowl. “Oh lovely. The devil has arrived,” she sneered as she continued typing and swiping on her phone.

Brock snorted. “Be grateful we’re in public, bitch, or I’d really give you the devil’s treatment.”

“Is that a threat, Mr. Rumlow?” Y/N sighed, decidedly bored with the conversation.

“A promise, Miss Y/L/N,” he grumbled. “I hope you enjoy this high life while you still can.” His face twisted into an ugly smirk. “Have you had a chance to try out your boss’ dick yet?” Y/N looked up at him, her own glare reflecting back at him. “Everyone knows how well you took care of Tony all those years.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Does dearest Bucky get it, too? He does have such a pretty cock,” Brock said lowly, a wicked smile curling his lips.

Y/N set her phone down and leaned against the table and hummed. “I’m surprised you're even here Brock. How long do you have until the cops come after setting off your ankle monitor?” Her eyebrows raised. “They don’t take kindly to defendants breaking house arrest. Especially sex offenders. How old was that teen model…16?” She leaned forward and whispered to him. “I usually don’t wish ill on others, but I hope and pray that once the trial is over and you’re found guilty and sent to prison, that those inmates have a lot of fun with you and your tiny cock.”

Brock scoffed. “You petty cunt.”

“How original,” Y/N scoffed back. She grabbed her things and stood to leave, then Brock reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting it hard and making her yelp in pain.

“You took everything from me–” he said, until suddenly his head was bashed against the table from behind. Rumlow grunted and released Y/N’s arm and she gasped, stepping back a few paces. She looked up to see Bucky holding Rumlow’s head down. A pool of blood started to flow where Rumlow’s face was being smashed into the tablecloth. The loud bang caught the attention of the people around them.

Bucky’s face was stony as he leaned down slowly to Rumlow’s face, his mouth near his ear, his eyes blazing under his furrowed brow. “Touch my assistant again, and I’ll end you,” Bucky snarled. He pushed Rumlow’s head once again for good measure then stood straight. Rumlow groaned as he slowly pulled himself up looking dazed, his nose clearly broken. Sirens blared outside as Bucky rounded the table to Y/N, his face softening as he looked at her. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, reaching out for the wrist that Rumlow twisted. He held it up and inspected it, his jaw clenching when the bruise from Rumlow’s fingerprints was already forming.

“I’m fine,” Y/N said, her voice sounding small. She stared up at him in shock, her mind not quite comprehending what just happened.

Bucky watched her for a moment before focusing back on her wrist. He thumbed it gently just as the police and an ambulance arrived. “I’d feel better if you got checked out by the paramedics,” he said with no room for argument.

Y/N blindly nodded as she was approached by an officer and a paramedic. After a lot of talking and explaining, Bucky and Y/N were free to go and her wrist was bandaged. Thankfully it was just sprained. Rumlow was carted off in the ambulance with a police escort. The meeting with the designer was delayed and Bucky quickly took Y/N back to the office. Word had spread quickly amongst the other employees and models about what had happened, many of them coming to talk to Y/N and others texting and calling. Bucky shooed everyone away and brought her to his office, shutting the door behind them. Y/N stood by his desk as he walked back up to her.

“Y/N?” he asked. She didn’t move. She was still in shock, her face looking numb and her body moving stiffly. “Hey,” Bucky rounded her to stand in front of her. He leaned down to her eye level, trying to catch her attention. Her eyes were unfocused, almost looking dead, and it scared him. “Come on, babes, come back to me,” Bucky sighed. His hands came up and cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones.

After a minute or two of him just holding her face her eyes fluttered shut, then she opened them again, looking startled at having him so close. “Bucky?”

“Hey you,” he smiled. “Welcome back.” Y/N looked at him confusedly. “You’re in shock, babes. And I don’t blame you. Just take your time. Come back to me.” Y/N gasped at remembering what had happened earlier, her hands flying up to grip Bucky’s wrists. “It’s okay,” he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here, just breathe,” he said, then started breathing through his nose deeply then out through his mouth. Y/N copied him, staring into his big blue eyes, trying to regain her composure as the whole ordeal replayed in her mind over and over again.

“Thank you, Bucky,” she breathed. “I’ve never had someone…threaten me and lash out at me like that before. I just didn’t know…” she swallowed harshly. Her hands released his wrists and she reached out to clutch at his shirt. Bucky let go of her face and stepped back to lean against his desk so they would be closer to the same height. He pulled her forward between his legs and hugged her and she desperately hugged him back. His hands rubbed up and down her back as she tucked her face into his neck.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”

Y/N let him hold her for a long time. She secretly reveled in the feeling of his body against hers, his strong arms and big hands comforting her. She subtly breathed him in, his cologne and the smell of something so completely him causing a small shiver up her back. She had been fighting some strong feelings towards him for a while now. She didn’t want to be one of those assistants who sleeps with their boss. It had never happened with Tony. He was more like a father figure to her, and she had never felt anything romantic towards him. Bucky was attractive, kind, efficient, fiercely loyal and passionate. They technically wouldn’t get in any trouble if they did sleep together or have a relationship, but she was still hesitant. She finally started to pull away from him.

“I’m okay. I’ll be fine,” she straightened up and stepped away from him. “Thank you for helping me. I uh…” she tried to think of a way to escape. “I’ll call Cecilia and reschedule for another time.” She nodded and gave him a tight lipped smile before turning to leave.

“Hey, woah,” Bucky stood. “I think you should go home, Y/N. Today was traumatic enough.”

“I’m fine, Bucky. I’d like to focus on something else rather than sitting at home,” she waved him off and took another step toward the door.

“Y/N, go home and rest. I can handle rescheduling a meeting,” he instructed, a frown on his face as he took another step toward her.

“No thank you,” she parried, reaching for the door handle.

“Y/N,” Bucky reached out and grabbed her hand. He stepped toward her, making her back up into the wall behind her. Y/N stared up at him, her eyes wide as he cornered her. Bucky seemed just as surprised to be in this situation, looking down at her, just inches away from her face. His eyes roamed her face, blinking rapidly as her breathing became heavy again. Y/N didn’t dare move, afraid of what her reaction would be if she did. They stayed like that for a minute, then Bucky’s eyes settled on her lips. He slowly leaned forward til his nose softly bumped into her nose, angling his head like he was about to…

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered again as the desire within her felt like it was thrumming through her body, and her eyes flitted back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Bucky leaned forward a little more and lifted her injured arm that he was holding. He moved towards her mouth, then at the last second swerved to kiss her cheek by the side of her lips. He brought the hand up and then moved his lips to her injured wrist, kissing it multiple times as he twisted it to reach around her arm. He pulled away just slightly, his hand holding hers dropping, barely holding her fingers and shutting his eyes tight.

“Go home, babes,” he whispered.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked at him incredulously. She scoffed then ducked around him and opened the door, shutting it behind her hard. She gathered her things and left the building, her cheek still burning from the feeling of his lips on her skin.

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #series fanfic #chapter 3 #model!bucky barnes #curvy reader #personal assistant!reader #personal assistant

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theamazingdigitalraceway · 23 days ago

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Just read the latest chapter and I must say I do believe everyone deserves a break, and by that I mean why not just let them relax like if they were all actors. Maybe have Abel be what he wants from the 4th wall ask so there isn't any tension, it's just a fun non-canon event to wind down.

BREATHER

A RACEWAY AU ONESHOT

WARNING: none

~~~

"CUT!! Good job everyone, that's a wrap for today." The Author closed her notes for episode 13 of The Amazing Digital Raceway TV series.

As the set crew turned on the overhead lights to start cleaning, Seth tossed his newly lit cigarette and coughed. "Ugh...how much longer am I going to have to pretend to like these things?"

Pomni unzipped her tracksuit to the waist, took off the top half and tied the sleeves around her waist. The tracksuits were hot under the stage lights, so she was much more comfortable in her black tank top underneath. "You know you don't actually have to smoke those, right? They'll edit it in post."

"I'm a method actor. I can't work with this unless it's actually lit."

"...then don't inhale. Really, this is a you problem."

"meh, meh, meh. Shut up." He grabbed her jester hat and shoved it down over her eyes.

"Reeeeal professional." Caine walked up, still covered in electrical burn makeup. "You staying in character or something?" He handed a bottle of water to Pomni.

"Like I said, method." Seth dug around in his pockets for items to give back to the prop department. As he searched, a phone rang in his pants pocket.

Pomni gaped. "You had a cellphone on you the whole time!? AND IT WAS ON!? You could have ruined the scene!"

Seth took out his modern flip phone, ignoring Pomni, and answered it with a smile. "Hey, baby. Yeah, just finished up." He started walking away, paying no mind to Pomni or Caine. "Have you heard back from the Author about your audition? Yeah, I told her if she needed me to have a love interest, I would prefer it be you."

Pomni rolled her eyes. "I can't believe that's guy's your brother."

Caine raised an eyebrow. "He's not."

"But he looks just like you."

"I know, but we never knew each other before the casting call. Wild coincidence." Caine finished his water. "I was wondering...after we finish up here, would you like to join me for drinks? I know this really nice pub."

Pomni smirked. "Now who's method acting?"

Caine chuckled, blushing under his makeup. "Nah...no acting. Just, I think... I don't know...I've felt some chemistry here. I'd be very interested in getting to know you outside of work."

Pomni smiled sincerely. "I'd like that."

Gummigoo grunted as the makeup assistant took out the bright blue contacts that covered his whole eye. "These bloody things are awful." There was some relief with the eye wash, but not as much as he'd like.

"Sorry you have to deal with that." Abel said as he glanced over the script draft for the next episode. "But it looks like you're going to be wearing them for a while. Uh, good news, you're getting a costume change at least. Says here you wear a black tracksuit. Don't know why the Author waited an entire episode for the wardrobe change. Seems like an afterthought. I would've changed the moment I reincarnated."

Gummigoo shrugged. "Maybe the Author is taking details like that slower. I mean, think about it. You've supposedly been stuck in the walls for 15 or so years and you jump into the mainframe head first. Did you expect to know how to do things from the inside right away? Your character has never done that before. He doesn't know how to be 'god'."

"eh....I guess you're right." Abel tucked the script under his arm and saw Ragatha walking by with Jax. "Oh hey, you two alright? That was some intense stunt work today."

"I'm fine, dear. Don't you worry. Jax, however is-" Ragatha was cut off by Jax hurling into the barf bag. "...not doing so good."

Jax groaned, "The world is spinning in the wrong direction."

"And you said you could do your own stunts." Ragatha patted Jax on the back. "I'm taking you to the on-site medic for some help. You need to sit down. See you later Abel, Gummigoo." She waved to her co-stars and escorted Jax away.

"Crikey, I'd hate to be him right now." Gummigoo shook his head.

"Yeah...so, anyway, I also wanted to ask: HOW have you been able to hide your Australian accent the entire time you're me? You sound so different." Abel wondered.

Gummigoo laughed. "Lots of practice and American movies."

Kinger was a little sore from today. The crashes were a bit more intense than originally intended. But, without complaint, he made his way to wardrobe to change, where he came across Loo. "Oh, hello, Loo. Did you have fun today?"

Loo pouted, "No...I didn't even have a line this episode. I feel like I've been on the story less and less. My character feels so...useless."

Kinger sat next to her. "We don't know what's coming next. I'm sure the Author will figure something out. She's one of the most passionate directors I've ever worked with, and I've been doing this for a long time."

Loo sniffed and wiped her face. "I think she should just kill off my character and let me go home. I'm not needed here."

"Hey," Kinger said gently, taking her hand. "Yes, you are. Every character is important, even the background ones. They flesh out the story and give the audience different perspectives on character struggles throughout the plot."

"What about Bubble? They left after episode 12, and I haven't seen them-"

"Bubble's on hiatus. They had to be written out for a bit. Nothing to do with how useful they are. Don't compare your performance to the others. The sooner you stop doing that, the better off you'll be in this industry."

"...okay..."

"You're young, beautiful, talented and hard working. You'll go far, I just know it." Kinger gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Thanks." Loo wasn't fully convinced, but she was grateful Kinger was trying.

"What do you mean you haven't heard back!?" Gangle screeched angrily into her phone at her agent. "I am a Shakespearean trained actor! I have a repertoire longer than all these other actors combined!! Well, maybe not Kinger, BUT STILL!! How have you come up with nothing!? You have 48 hours to find me a new offer or you're FIRED!!"

Gangle almost threw her phone. She couldn't believe it. Years of training and child acting and this backwater TV show was all she had for work. She could do SO much better than this. She DESERVED better than this.

She dialed a new number with tears in her eyes. "...mom? The agent you got me is useless! I'm still stuck with the TV show! I-...yes, it's popular or whatever, BUT I'M NOT THE MAIN STAR! I auditioned for the lead role and I got side-charactered! It's not fair!!" Gangle whined and cried, pulling the bow out of her hair in frustration.

Zooble was about to leave for the day, but was flagged down by the Author. "Hey, what's up?"

"A lot, Zooble." The Author sighed. "I need to touch base with you about your role in the next episode. Have you seen makeup and wardrobe about-"

"Oh, yeah, I have. They got the latex molds done. My new look should be done by time you're ready to film my scenes."

"Excellent. Best news I've heard all week."

"You look like you could use a drink." Zooble half joked.

"I really could, but I can't. I have too many projects that require my attention. My producers for Unseen are breathing down my neck for the next script. Not to mention co-witing for the Time Capsule and Harlequin shows. Sometimes I have time for spinoff scripts. Those are fun." The Author runs her hand through her hair.

"Wow. Maybe you're taking on too many projects at once? Take a break. Have a drink."

"....maybe. Once I get-" The Author's phone rang. "Excuse me." She stepped away and answered. "Hello?"

A smooth male voice came though. "I read the script. The answer's yes."

The Author could dance in place. "That's wonderful! I'll have the other drafts sent your way. Thank you for calling me yourself. Your agent was rather uppity about letting me even offer the role to you."

The man chuckled lightly. "He's a card. No, I like this a lot. You can count me in. In fact, I'd very much like to discuss my role in person. Are you available tonight?"

The Author almost dropped her stuff. "I am now."

#the amazing digital raceway #tadc raceway au #raceway au #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc au #raceway seth #raceway abel #tadc caine #tadc pomni #showtime tadc #sneaky lore

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hannahbarberra162 · 3 months ago

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Struck Twice By Lightning, Chapter 13

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Link to all chapters

TW: jealousy

A few days later and you were laying on the bed in the early evening, resting after a huge supper. You felt like a snake, basking in the sun after a large meal. And like a snake, you didn’t think you’d want to eat again for another month. Damn Lucky and his fantastic chicken pot pie. Laying there, you heard the ringing of your den den mushi.

Puru puru puru puru puru puru

You looked at the Buggy snail and your mouth twisted. You still hadn’t called him back after all his missed calls. You didn’t want to worry him but you hadn’t wanted to hear how he was right, how you screwed up, and how you shouldn’t have gone with Shanks in the first place. The worst part of it all was, he was right. But he didn’t deserve to be left hanging for so long. You rolled off the bed and grabbed the snail, bringing it to sit on the bed with you.

“Hi.”

“About time, babe. I was getting worried. I was gonna leave for the Grand Line if I didn’t hear back from you soon.” You felt guilty, Buggy really was a good friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just kinda…going through it.” Buggy hummed through the snail.

“Yeah, I’d imagine so. Everyone and their Captain saw the article. That's all anyone is talking about.” You cringed. You had some small naive hope that everyone would forget about it after the next big story broke. “You looked great, though. At least they got a good picture of you.”

“Yeah, I mean but did you see Shanks? That asshole has never taken a bad picture.”

“Fuck him, did you at least stab him? I have no doubt that it’s his fault somehow.” You laughed, something Buggy could always get you to do. It was Shank’s fault, but you didn’t want to poison Buggy against Shanks even more.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t. Thought about it though.”

“Do you want me to come get you?” You knew Buggy’s offer was sincere. But you’d thought about that too - the only place that you’d really be safe would be with an Emperor. Buggy was strong, but not if someone like Linlin or Kaido wanted to get you. They’d send wave after wave of powerful fighters, Emperors had a shared quality of being goal oriented when they wanted something or someone.

“No, but thanks. I’m gonna ride on the Dead Horse with Stanks. I think it’ll be OK, at least for a while. If I need you, I’ll make my way out to the East Blue.”

“Like hell you will, if you need me, I’ll come out there. We can stab that idiot together, as a bonding activity.”

“Hi Buggy!” The man himself had appeared, entering the cabin through the doorway. He walked over and sat next to you on the bed, leaning back on you as if you were a sitting pillow.

“Fuck off,” Buggy replied angrily. This was the first time they’d directly interacted since you’d been on board.

“Aw, c’mon Bugs, I haven’t talked to you in forever.” Shanks was pouting. He had a lot of love for Buggy, but it wasn’t always reciprocated. You understood why, but it still made you a little sad.

“Fuck off,” Buggy repeated. “Why do you have to fuck things up for everyone you’re involved with? It’s like the Mierdas touch, everything you touch turns to shit.” Shanks laughed.

“That’s a good one, never heard it before. But it's not true! How was I supposed to know -”

“- that your actions have consequences? Gee, Shanks, I don’t know, it’s a lesson most of us have learned by our thirties. Anyway, fuck you. Doll, listen, say the word and I’ll set sail. Kisses.”

“Love ya, Bug.” You hung up the snail. Shanks was looking at you with an amused expression. “What?”

“Why did you call it the ‘Dead Horse? ‘Stanks’ I get, no questions asked. Buggy’s been calling me that since we were 12.”

“Oh, ‘cus the presence of your ship is like beating a dead horse. We get it - you’re Shanks and the Red Haired Pirates . No need for all the fuss.” You waved your hand at him dismissively.

“It’s not my fault we’re greeted with fanfare everywhere! I didn’t ask for it, people like me!” Shanks scoffed.

“ Some people like you, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk.

“And some people like being tickled,” Shanks replied. Your smirk dropped but as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he’d grabbed your foot with his hand and yanked your leg into the air.

“Ha! Whatcha gonna do now? No other hand to tickle with!” You were weakly trying to kick him.

“This.” Shanks licked the sole of your foot, causing you to shriek.

“Shanks!! That’s absolutely disgusting! Don’t do thaaaaa-” but you couldn’t finish your sentence as he licked it again and you were laughing.

“You’re right, that’s too hard with one hand. How about here?” He pinned your legs under his and started tickling the inside of your thighs. You were laughing hard.

“Stanks! Stop!” You weren’t serious, you knew he’d stop if you changed your tone.

“Stanks, is it? You really want to play hard ball, huh?” He pinned your arm under a knee and tickled your side up to your armpit. You were laughing so much tears were coming out of your eyes.

“O-k ok ok I surrender! I won’t call you Stanks!” He moved off you, freeing your arm while your giggles subsided. “Fake surrender!” You launched yourself over him and started tickling him back. You knew Shanks was letting you hold him down, but it was still fun. The two of you were goofing off for a while, ending with you leaning down over him, breathing heavily, with his one large hand pinned by both of yours.

“So, what do I get for defeating the Emperor?”

“You can keep me as a prize of war,” Shanks rasped, wrapping his legs around your waist. You moved your face closer to his.

“Mmm, not sure about that. What makes you worth keeping?”

“This,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. You pressed forward, lying down on top of him, releasing his hand. You ran your nails down his chest, feeling the muscle twitch under your fingertips. You’d been having a lot of soft moments with Shanks recently. You still fell into bouts of sadness and loss, but there was no other solution you could see. You were sailing back to your island and you’d be there before you knew it. Life would continue in some kind of way, but right now you were enjoying time with your…husband.

You kissed him along his prominent collar bones, leading to the hollow of his neck. You spent some time there, flicking your tongue on the sensitive areas. Shanks was moaning, gripping your ass and thrusting up slowly, turned on by your actions. You whipped off your shirt and bra, throwing them onto the floor. You leaned forward so your breasts dangled in front of his mouth. He quickly captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting. He released it only to put the other in. You had undone his belt and were shimmying his pants down his legs. You didn’t want to wait any longer, you could feel you were already wet.

You didn’t even remove your own clothes, just moved your skirt aside. You sat up a bit, taking your breasts away from Shank’s eager mouth. You hooked your panties to the side and sank down onto Shank’s eager cock. As you lowered yourself, you groaned. This is exactly what you needed. The stretch always felt good, but this time you wished you could make it last. You started bouncing on Shanks, pulling your hips down harder with every stroke.

“Come on, Love. I’m here for you,” Shanks was talking to you sweetly as you used him to get to your peak. You suddenly felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes but you didn’t know why. You shifted yourself to lay down next to him, hoping Shanks would take up the mantle and fuck you while spooning. You wanted to continue but were feeling too raw to have Shanks watch you. Shanks looked down at your face but didn’t say anything. He pulled out and fixed your panties, covering you up once more. He pulled your back flush to his front, gently kissing your face, while your tears threatened to spill.

“Where’d you go? Come back to me,” Shanks said softly. That made the dam break and you started crying.

“I’m s-sorry Shanks. I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me,” you cried, covering your face with your hands.

“Nothing’s wrong with you. Take whatever you need, I’ll always wait for you.” That just made you cry harder. Shanks comforted you until your tears ended, letting you cry into his chest.

“S-sorry,” you eventually said. You felt bad about starting something you couldn’t finish and ending it with a huge crying session. Shanks turned your face to his and kissed you.

“Don’t be. I love you.” You blinked. That was the first time he’d said it directly. Maybe you weren’t the only one guarding your heart this second time around. He joked and teased and beat around the bush but rarely expressed his emotions so frankly.

“I love you too.” You put your forehead against his. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” he replied.

~~~

It didn’t take too long to get to your island since you’d only been with Shanks for a few weeks at that point. The closer you got, the more anxious you became. You were nervous to see what remained in and of your house. You were on edge as the Red Force docked near your island and you were chewing your nails to shreds as the dingy brought you to the wharf. Unfortunately, the article had brought notoriety to the island and to you, so locals were waiting to catch a glimpse of you and Shanks together.

“Leave,” was all he said. He was serious, intimidating, and had his hand resting on Gryphon's hilt. The villagers, all of whom you knew, quickly dispersed to their houses.

“You didn’t have to do that, they’re just townsfolk.” You felt awkward that the people who sold you milk were being threatened by one of the most powerful pirates in the world.

“Did you want one of them taking another picture of you and I together to sell to Morgan?” You pursed your lips. You were hoping the story would die down, Shanks had a point. You walked hand in hand towards your little house. From the outside, it didn't look too bad. Your garden was a little trampled, but someone had been watering it.

You pushed open the now unlocked door, braced for the worst. Shanks trailed in behind you, inspecting various trinkets you’d gathered over the years. You were surprised to see most of your belongings still in their places. You went from room to room, looking for your favorite possessions - a knife from Buggy, an empty bottle from the first sake you’d sold, old pictures of friends, and they were all where you expected them to be. You went into your office and found someone had rifled through all your documents, but you had been expecting that. You yelled to Shanks through the open door of your office.

“Shanks, you’re not going to believe this, almost everything is still here! And unbroken, too. I was so sure this place would have been looted, but no -” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shock of blond hair.

“You’re welcome yoi,” said a familiar voice.

~~~

You skipped up to your old friend and gave him a hug around his middle. “Marco! What are you doing here?”

“Buggy called in a favor and asked me to watch over your house yoi. Prevent looting, stealing, that kind of thing. He said you’d be by soon and I was in the area anyway.” God, you loved Buggy. You really needed to send him a gift after all he'd done for you.

“Honeydew, I can’t believe you kept this old shell from that beach -” Shanks was walking back to you, holding a shell in his hand. He stopped short when he saw Marco. Internally, you groaned.

“Shanks, Marco’s the reason the house wasn’t looted. He’s been staying here.” Shanks smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks, Marco. Owe ya one.”

“That’s so kind of you, Marco, I really appreciate it.” You beamed at The Phoenix, who popped a tomato in his mouth. “Was it you who watered the plants?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave them parched. You have a great little house yoi. It’s so cozy and comfortable, I relaxed more than I have in years. You have great taste in interior design yoi.”

“Yeah, she does, doesn’t she?” Shanks had come to stand next to you and hooked his arm around your middle. You wanted to roll your eyes - you’d already told Shanks you hadn’t slept with Marco, he didn’t need to be jealous.

“Thank you, I spent a lot of time over the years getting everything just right. Listen, I’d like to invite you to dinner, it’s the very least I can do,” you said. You were incredibly grateful, he’d saved you a lot of heartache.

“-That WE can do,” Shanks interrupted with a laugh. You’d meant the invitation to include Shanks, but hadn’t specified.

“Thank you, that sounds great. But it really was no problem yoi. Always ready to help a friend in need,” he said, smiling. He leaned against your office bookcase, holding a tomato from your garden in his other hand.

“Here, would you like it? They’ve been coming in, they’re good yoi.” Marco underhand tossed the fruit to you. Shanks let go of your waist and caught it.

“Thanks, bud.” Shanks was trying to speak casually but was failing. He looked like he wanted to throw you over his shoulder and haul you off to the nearest cave. The twinkle in Marco’s eyes told you he was enjoying riling up Shanks. This time you did roll your eyes. This would not end well for someone, probably you.

“Quit it,” you whispered angrily, turning to Shanks. Marco pretended not to hear. You turned back to Marco. “Please, feel free to stay here as long as you’d like. I’ll get dinner later today, I still need to get my house in order. It will be our pleasure.” You dragged Shanks out the back door of the house by his empty sleeve.

“What are you doing?!” you whisper yelled at him.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” he wasn’t yelling, but Shanks wasn’t happy. “ You’re the one trying to go on a date with Marco.” You tutted at him.

“You’re being ridiculous, and you know it. Marco was helping as a friend after Buggy called him. You heard all that, right? Behave or I’ll uninvite you to dinner.” You would too, you didn’t have a lot of patience for Shanks’s jealousy. Shanks huffed.

“Fine, we’ll have the rooster over for dinner. But I’m gonna call you my wife the entire time .” If your eyes rolled any harder, they’d be out of your head.

~~~

You hadn’t specified that you’d be the one cooking dinner for a reason. You weren’t the best cook on the Grand Line, to say the least. You bribed Lucky to make the dinner for the three of you with a large bottle of sake. He obliged and made a fantastic orange duck dish with jasmine rice. Of course, you brought out a nice bottle of wine and some sake, unsure which Marco would prefer. You were setting the table while Shanks sat in your overstuffed armchair.

“This thing’s great, we should bring it back to the ship.” You hummed in response.

“I know it’s great, that’s why I bought it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the house and most of my belongings. It’s not like I can bring it all with me.” Shanks was messing around and finally found the lever for the footrest. He pulled it and launched himself backwards, enjoying the full recline.

“Oh yeah, this is definitely coming with us. Now, if I had this chair when you first came on board I wouldn’t have had to sleep in the bed.”

“Shanks, be serious for a minute. What should I do with the house? I can’t be here at any regular intervals. I guess I’ll have to sell it.” The thought made you sad - you really loved this house.

“Sell it? Why?” Shanks asked.

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be here to stop anyone from taking things, and I don’t want to ask Marco -” Shanks cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No one’s gonna take anything from here. I’m gonna spread the word that this is my vacation house. No one will touch it. And maybe we really can vacation here, this place is great.”

“Do you think that will work?” You gnawed at your fingernail, while setting the final silverware down.

“Sure, I’m not an Emperor for nothing. Keep your house, keep your stuff, take whatever you want with you. But we’re bringing this chair.”

~~~

The dinner was lovely, except for two things. The first was Shanks and the second was Marco. Shanks was in a pissy mood, trying to cover it up but not quite succeeding. Marco kept making little comments to annoy Shanks and they hit their mark every time.

“Thank you again for watching over my house, Marco,” you said, pouring him a cup of sake. Shanks had sat right next to you and kept trailing his fingers up your thigh during the meal. Which was incredibly obvious because he had to stop eating to do it, due to having only one hand. You slapped it away as discreetly as you could.

“My pleasure yoi. I always enjoy coming here.” Marco gave a little half smile as he sipped his drink. Shanks stiffened incrementally. “This is excellent, is this aged?”

“Yeah, this is an older batch. It’s pretty good, I was thinking of entering it in a competition.” Maybe you could enter neutral territory by talking about work.

“My wife is so modest, it’s better than ‘pretty good.” Shanks kissed your cheek. He had kept his word and was referring to you only as his wife.

“Mh. Speaking of which, were you thinking of gifting Whitebeard another bottle for his birthday? I can bring you that tokkuri if you want to use it again.” You rubbed one temple. These two idiots were going to be the death of you.

“I didn’t know you made sake for Whitebeard. How…thoughtful of you.” Shanks said through his teeth.

“Just once, and no, I don’t think I can. I’ll be sailing with Shanks now, and the ship isn’t a great place for brewing.” Maybe you could move to Laughtale and live happily ever after by yourself.

“So you are still married? Last you said, you wanted to get divorced yoi.” Marco said it like he was talking about the weather but you swore Shanks’s haki was starting to build. Maybe you’d kill Marco before you moved to Laughtale. Or Shanks, whichever made your life easier.

“We’re still married,” Shanks gritted out, taking your hand in his. “My wife couldn’t get rid of me so easily.” He kissed the back of your hand. Marco smiled calmly.

“It’s rare to see you like this, Shanks,” Marco said with a raised brow and knowing smile. Shanks was already moving his hand towards you under the table.

“Like what?” You said as you swatted Shanks’s hand for the millionth time off your inner thigh.

“Jealous. I only ever see you relaxed or serious, with nothing in between yoi. Your wife is the only person I’ve ever seen inspire such feelings in you. It’s endearing.” Shanks barked a genuine laugh.

“Only person I ever met who was worth being jealous over.”

~~~

The rest of the dinner went slightly better but not by much. You were doing the dishes while Marco insisted on clearing the table. Shanks had gone back to reclining in the chair, still drinking.

“Leave them, I’ll do it.” You felt bad your guest was helping.

“I don’t mind yoi,” Marco replied. “Have you decided what you’re going to do with your house?” You nodded.

“Shanks is going to spread a rumor that it’s his vacation home to keep it safe. I think that’ll work. You can come here when you want though, it’s not like we’re going to be here all that often.” In your house inspection, you’d found that Marco had fixed a number of small projects you always meant to get to. That alone had earned him a permanent visit invitation.

“Thank you, I just might. Nice to get away from my siblings now and again.” You hummed in response, still working on the dishes. “By the way, yoi. It seems like things are patched up between you two. But if you ever need to go somewhere else, you can come aboard the Moby yoi.” You paused for a moment. You hadn’t considered the possibility of staying with Whitebeard. He was another Yonko, you'd be safe. Before you could answer Shanks was by your side, leaning against you casually. But nothing about his demeanor was relaxed. Laughtale was looking like a better and better plan.

“You invited my wife to come with you?” Shanks was speaking in a clipped tone. Marco was unphased, still carrying plates. You looped your arm around Shanks, to attempt to calm him down.

“Shanks, stop. Marco, send my thanks to Whitebeard, but I’m staying with Shanks.”

“You’ve gotta be needed back on your ship, you’re the doctor after all,” said Shanks coolly. Marco laughed.

“You’re right, and I’ll be leaving soon. It’s nice to see you both again, yoi. Thank you for the dinner.” Marco deposited the remaining dishes in the sink. You said your goodbyes and you walked him to the door, giving him a final hug goodbye. He partially transformed and flew off into the night. You sighed, it was always so beautiful to watch him in his Zoan form.

“Show off,” Shanks grumbled. You walked back to the living room and plopped down on your couch. Shanks laid down next to you with his head on your lap.

“You’ve been such a brat all night! Marco was just being helpful.” You weren’t mad at Shanks but you’d wished he could contain his jealousy better.

“Inviting my wife onto another Yonko’s ship isn’t helpful, ” he replied. “Besides, Marco was provoking me!” Shanks’s mood was already on the mend with Marco gone.

“Mmm. And the all powerful Emperor just had to take the bait, right?” You jiggled your legs, making his head bounce slightly.

“I can make your thighs shake more than that,” Shanks said, turning his head towards your body.

“Show me, husband .” Shanks grinned. You hadn’t called him that yet. Hopefully the last of his jealousy would dissipate. And if not, well, jealousy sex was always fun.

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #op shanks #reader x shanks #reader insert #tw jealousy #second chance at love #second chance romance #op x y/n

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awkward-tension-art · 6 months ago

Text

Darkess on Umbara Chp.13 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 12. Epilogue

Carnage Of Krell

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Canon character death, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, Grief, betrayal, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DNI

You abandoned the title of healer in order to pursue vengeance. It went against your oath. You were supposed to save lives, not end them.

But monsters shouldn’t be saved.

Which is why you joined the squad. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Kix, Tup, and other troopers of both the 501st and the 212th. Everyone around you wanted justice.

“What I'm proposing is highly treasonous,” Captain Rex stood in front of you, speaking with authority, “If any man chooses to opt out do it now,”

Everyone remained silent but stepped forward, heads held high.

“From this point forward we are entering uncharted territory,” The captain emphasized, “my orders are to arrest General Krell for treason against the Republic!”

You followed his lead. Pistol in hand, senses sharp, and focus hardened. Your gaze met the man you love, and you hoped he understood.

I’d follow you into Hell, Rex.

Every step to the airbase had a purpose. Every soldier was geared-up and ready to take down the ruthless Jedi. Jesse and Fives were freed and given their own rifles.

The ARC trooper looked especially determined to arrest Krell. It would only be fair that he was the one to toss the former General into a cell. You were just happy to be helping him achieve such a thing.

With your pistol loaded and ready, you kept your eyes forward as the doors opened to the top floor of the tower. Soldiers filled in, surrounding the Jedi. He didn;t seem bothered, simply staring out the window over the dark landscape.

You followed Fives, deciding to keep out of Rex’s way as he walked forward, “General Krell, you're being relieved of duty.”

The besalisk turned slowly, keeping his hands behind his back, “It's treason then,” He growled.

Rex aimed his pistols, keeping his voice steady but commanding, “Surrender General.” The other soldiers shifted with their leaders' movements. Everyone was primed, ready to strike.

Krell’s steps were slow and deliberate as he walked forward before stopping, “You're committing mutiny, captain.” He sounded so…uninterested in the situation at hand.

Tup and Kix moved from their spots to keep their rifles pointed at the devious generals back. They remained firm and determined, fingers on the triggers of their guns.

“Explain your actions,” the captain of the 501st snarled. They deserved an explanation for everything.

“My actions?”

“For ordering your troops against one another!” Rex snapped.

Krell seemed smug, “Oh…That,” His tone was clearly that of someone who was bored with the topic, “I’m surprised you were able to figure it out. For a clone.” He spat the last word.

Fives motioned to the squad and they moved, taking two steps closer to the former general. Yet, he still seemed unbothered.

“Surrender, General.” Captain Rex commanded, You’re out number-”

Krell stomped forward with one foot and shot all four arms out. He used the Force to shove everyone back.

You slammed into the wall, knocking the wind right out of your lungs. The other soldiers were in a similar state, but everyone recovered quickly. You began firing your pistol, aiming towards the corrupt Jedi. The other soldiers did the same, hoping to overwhelm him with the sheer number of blaster bolts.

“You dare to attack a jedi!” the besalisk shouted, twirling his now activated lightsabers. He moved with practiced skill, deflecting every shot.

Damnit! Not good!

He leapt forward, slashing down two soldiers. They collapsed, dying almost instantly from the power of the strike.

A 212th trooper rushed forward attempting to charge the bastard, but was swiftly cut down as well. His body was kicked forward, slamming into the wall, narrowly missing Rex.

“I will not be undermined,” Krell twirled his sabers, pausing his movements to glare at the 501st captain, “By creatures bred in some laboratory!” He turned swiftly, breaking the window of the tower and leaping down to the airbase below.

“Follow him!” Rex commanded.

He, and the other soldiers began to rush down to the ground floor, but you stopped. Most lightsaber strikes were instantly fatal, but you checked for a pulse from the troopers Krell cut down anyway.

Even if you craved vengeance, you were still a doctor.

No pulse. Nothing. For all of them.

Confirmed to be dead, you left them and followed the soldiers down. Your steps caught up, and you kept next to Fives as the clones gave chase. However, the small group had been stalled by Dogma stepping out from behind a starship.

“Hold it right there!” He demanded.

Rex pulled his pistols and aimed on the younger trooper, “Lower your weapon, Dogma.” His voice was steady and calm, hoping to talk down the clearly conflicted clone.

He shook his head, “I can’t do that, sir!”

“That's an order!”

“It's my duty!” Dogma aimed his rifle at Jesse, then you, then Fives, “You’re all traitors!”

Your lover lowered one of his pistols and removed his helmet to speak, “I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you, that's how they engineered us,” He looked over at you before staring right at Dogma, “But we're not droids. we're not programmed, you have to learn to make your own decisions, Dogma.”

Tup approached his batchmate before raising his own rifle on the panicked trooper. He kept calm, even when Dogma shifted and pointed his weapon directly at him, “Dogma, don’t do it.”

Thankfully, that's as far as Dogma went. He dropped his rifle and looked down. His turmoil was clear, even as he was tackled by other soldiers.

“Take him to the brig.” Rex commanded, putting his helmet back on, “Troopers, don’t let General Krell escape!”

The chase was on.

You remained out of the captain's way, pretty much attaching yourself to Fives. You’d defer to him if you weren’t able to stay close to your lover. Afterall, under your thirst for justice, you were still a doctor. A healer intended to protect and save, not fight and kill.

Krell broke something inside of you. You’ve abandoned your purpose, becoming a vengeful, angry shell of your former self. At least for now.

“I got you,” the ARC trooper spoke next to you as you both navigated the dense, black and red Umbaran jungle, “That's what you say when you take care of one of us,” His stepped over a glowing root, and you followed, “Since you’ve had all of us, let me have you this time. Follow my lead.”

“Thanks, Fives.” You responded, keeping your eyes forward. The land was covered in a gray fog, making it difficult to watch exactly where you were going.

“Anyone got anything?” Rex spoke lowly into his communicator.

“Negative, Captain. We lost him.” The soldier on the other end responded. However, after a second, the familiar sound of whirling lightsabers pierced through the communicator, “Wait! He’s too powerful!” Blaster shots echoed in the distance and the trooper cried in his com. You could also make out the distinct cruel laugh of the Jedi.

Fives knelt, focusing his scope, “He’s coming!” The ARC trooper warned.

There was a thick silence that fell over every soldier around you. It was only broken by more gleeful laughter from Krell, “You should have listened to the ARC trooper from the beginning, Captain.”

You got back-to-back with Fives, pistol raised and ready. That damn Jedi’s voice seemed to come from every direction.

“He was right, I was using you.” More laughter from that bastard. Krell leapt from the branches above you and landed on top of a group of clones. His large foot crushed one of them, and his green lightsaber stabbed through another. He activated his blue saber and twirled the lethal weapons, “You’ve all been my pawns!”

“Get him!”

The corrupt General began laughing again as he was shot at. Unbothered by the blaster bolts, he dashed forward, cutting down the closest clone. He turned, slashing two others, sending them to their graves.

You and the other soldiers continued to fire, hoping to find a way to get past the defense of his double-ended blades. He stepped forward, spinning his weapons, blocking every shot aimed towards him. Without even looking he managed to kill three more clones.

This was a game to him. You realized with horror. He was having fun.

Something, the Force, wrapped around your body, restraining you. Krell had an open hand raised, laughing cruelly. You tried to aim your pistol only to fail, “You’ve fascinated me, Doctor.” He taunted before throwing you. Your back slammed into a tree, ripping a groan from your throat, “What do you see in these…inferior creatures?”

One of his large feet slammed next to you, the tip of his green lightsaber was level with your throat. Your pistol had fallen out of your reach when he threw you, leaving you unable to defend yourself.

“Bastard!” You spat. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Fives trembling in rage and Rex damn near frozen in terror.

No pistol, but you had an idea. Your hand reached into one of your packs and wrapped around one of your surgical tools.

Krell didn’t seem very interested. He continued to use his blue lightsaber to deflect the blaster bolts as he stood over you, “That didn’t answer my question, Doctor.”

Your eyes glared up at him, “These soldiers are better men than you ever were!” In a surprisingly quick movement, you brandished your laser scalpel and stabbed his foot with it. You took a sick sense of satisfaction hearing him yelp in pain.

“Ingrate!” He shouted, leaping back to defend himself from the barrage of blaster shots. The Force restrained you again, and the Jedi threw you. Your body hit the hard plastoid of a soldier's chest plate as someone caught you. However, they remained standing, wrapping one arm around you and keeping you up as well. Once you got your bearings, you looked up to Rex holding you with one arm as he fired his pistol with the other.

“Hi.” You greeted him sweetly, “Thank you, for catching me.”

Now wasn’t the time, but…Damn, you really loved this man.

You felt his grip on you become tighter. He was shaking, ever so slightly, but remained focused.

Krell Jumped forward, grabbing another soldier. The 501st trooper cried out in panic before being raised in the air and brought down on the general’s knee. The snap was audible and loud. To add insult to injury, he threw the trooper to the side like trash.

Dead? Most likely. I need to check.

You broke away from your lover and ran to the trooper. Feeling for a pulse, you found nothing.

His name was Faux.

Fyre. Vim. Oz. Ringo. North. Gabe. Tro. Tess. Zeb. Sante. Reign. Pheon. Dawn. Nim. Jamie. Hek. Recon. Mav. Zeo. Fisher. Hinge. Trident. Iron. Mesh. Steele. Bruno. Zeke. Jumper. Aura. Dia. Silk. Forty. Thrall. Hardcase. Uno. Barr. Filter. Faux.

You looked up just in time to watch Krell throw Tup deeper into the dense, dark jungle. Without thinking, you sprinted in that direction, hoping and praying your friend would be alright. Your steps slowed when you saw him get up and raise a hand to stop you.

Behind him, the tendrils of a fanged beast underground waved around. The bioluminescence of its mouth was rather distinct. Tup saved Dogma from one of these earlier.

“Are you ok?” You asked him, taking slow and deliberate steps towards him. That beast scared you.

“I have an idea.” was his response to you. Tup got to his feet and activated his comm, “Captain Rex, this is Tup. if you can, force the General towards me.”

Rex’s confusion was apparent over the comm, “What? Why?”

“Trust me, Sir!”

With Tup’s certainty, you stepped a wide circle around the Umbaran creature, getting to his side. You had no idea what he was thinking, but you hoped it worked.

You really couldn’t handle losing another friend.

After a moment, Rex commanded through the communicator, “Troopers, listen up. Circle around, lure him towards Tup!”

“Tup…” You followed him, making sure to watch where you placed your feet. Your laser scalpel was warm in your hand, prepared to use it to fight that damn beast under the ground if need be, “Can I at least get a heads up before you get yourself killed?”

His rifle was tight in his hands as he watched the battle in the distance. Through the fog and darkness, you could make out the bodies of soldiers running past Krell, towards your location. Tup fired his blaster once he spotted the corrupt jedi.

The former General skidded to a stop and whirled to face him. The trooper shouted, ticking him off even more, “Hey ugly! Come and get us!”

“Tup!” You stepped back, raising your small weapon. Mentally, you calculated how fast you’d have to get the fuck away from the deraged besalisk.

Krell sprinted at the both of you. His sick smile became more and more clear as he approached. His lightsabers were activated at his side, prepared to kill the both of you.

Tup didn’t move. He lowered his blaster and tensed, lowering his head.

Was he trying to get himself killed!?

You took a step forward, hoping maybe you could tackle him out of the way before Krell got to him. However, it turned out that you didn’t need to worry.

The Umbaran beast lashed its tendrils out, grabbing the Jedi and swinging him in the air. He cried out and grunted, waving his lightsabers around, trying to get the creature to drop him. His blades managed to sever the creature's tongue, sending the damn thing into a frenzy.

Tup you absolute genius!

Krell was thrown to the ground before getting picked up again. His green lightsaber slipped from his large hands and you dove down to grab it. Sadly, he still had his blue saber, which he used to kill two other troopers.

Despite the disorientation, the Jedi proved to be a great warrior, managing to keep an eye on his surroundings. The soldiers had regrouped, firing their blasters at him, only to have their shots continuously deflected. The beast waved the besalisk around, giving him the chance to slice off the calf of a 212th trooper.

Instantly cauterized. Pain management will be key. Calm him before he goes into shock.

Your instincts kicked in. You were a doctor, damnit! Abandoning your drive for vengeance, you skidded to the troopers side, immediately tending to him. The painkillers were in his system before he could fully process what happened.

The sound of a lightsaber slicing followed by a thump and a groan filled your ears. You looked up fast enough to watch Tup fire a stun bolt on the besalisk. Krell let out a choked growl before collapsing on the ground.

“I stunned him, sir.” Tup sounded triumphant.

Rex kicked the Jedi rolling him on his back, “Nice work, Tup.” He nodded to the younger trooper.

Fives and Jesse got cuffs on the bastard, ending the fight then and there.

“Get the fucker in the brig.” Your lover spat, “Drag him if you have to.”

It didn’t take long to return to the air base. Krell hadn’t managed to run far, so even with his unconscious body and the injured, you all managed to return before he even woke up.

You wanted to be there when he did, though. So you asked Jesse to inform you when the Jedi opened his eyes. It gave you enough time to help any injured that survived the lightsaber wounds.

Not many. You noticed bitterly. Krell killed too many good soldiers.

You were putting one more trooper to his permanent rest when you got the com. You left the injured with Kix and left the medical bay. Rex, Fives and Jesse were at the tower by the time you and Tup both arrived. Wordlessly, all of you went down to the air base prisons.

Dogma scrambled to his feet, seeing the captain again. Regret and shame was clear on the trooper, as he kept his gaze downward.

The Jedi was seated on the floor as if meditating. As soon as he heard you come down the lift, he raised his head and snarled.

“Why, General?” Rex spoke first, approaching the cell, “Why kill your own men?”

Krell chuckled darkly as he stood, “Because I can.” His voice was smug, and full of ego, “Because you fell for it. Because you're inferior.”

“But you’re a Jedi! How could you?”

“A Jedi?” The former general laughed again, “I am no longer naive enough to be a Jedi,” His words dripped with hate and venom as he spoke, “A new power is rising, I’ve foreseen it. The Jedi are going to lose this war and the Republic will be ripped apart from the inside,” Even from a distance, the darkness inside of him was clear in every word, “In its place is going to rise a new order and I will rule as part of it!”

You turned, sharing a look with Jesse before staring back at the former Jedi.

Rex growled, “You’re a Separatist.”

Krell shook his head and stood tall, looking down at everyone in the room, “I serve no one's side. Only my own, and soon, my new master.”

Master?

“You’re an agent of Dooku.” Your lover stepped forward, keeping his hate filled gaze on the disgraced general.

“Not yet, but when I get out of here, I will be.” The fallen Jedi sounded certain in his words, “after I've succeeded in driving the Republic from Umbara the Count will reward my actions and make me his new apprentice.”

Dogma cried out from his cell, “How could you do this? You had my trust! My loyalty!” Even through the barrier keeping him in, you could see his eyes, glossy with tears, “I followed all of your orders, and you made me kill my brothers!”

You honestly felt bad for the poor trooper. He really thought he was doing the right thing.

“That’s because you were the biggest fool of them all, Dogma!” Krell cruelly laughed at the distressed soldier, “I counted on blind loyalty like yours to make my plan succeed!”

“Fucking bastard!” You spat, “That will never happen!”

“You’re a traitor, General, and you will be dealt with as one.” Rex seethed, keeping eye contact with Krell.

“You never learn, Captain.” He sounded smug as he turned and sat back down, “The Umbarans are going to retake this base, and when they do, I will be free.” The besalisk lowered his head and closed his eyes, as if meditating again.

The conversation was over.

“Sick, twisted fucking…” Fives crossed his arms and grumbled as you all got on the lift and raised out of the brig, “General Skywalker will want to punish Krell himself.”

“Agreed.” Jesse mumbled.

You stepped forward, taking a hold of Rex’s hand, “Cyare.” Your voice was soft, “It’ll be alright.”

He looked back at you, giving you a ghost of a smile.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jesse nudge Tup before whispering, “Don’t say a word to anyone about the captain and doctor.”

“Understood.”

“Good man.”

Once the doors to the outside opened, you were immediately greeted by Hana, “Captain,” She saluted Rex, “We’ve repaired the transmitter. It looks like it was sabotaged,” The trooper explained, “Despite that, we’ve received a message from General Kenobi. His forces have captured the capital, but the remaining Umbarans are heading here.”

Another battle…

“Get everyone on the perimeter! We need to prepare for a full scale attack!” The clone captain barked his orders.

“Yes sir!” Hana saluted before putting her helmet on and turning to rush off to do as he commanded.

Rex turned back, facing you and the others, “Krell sabotaged the transmitter. He's been against us from the beginning!” Everyone has been played for fools, and the clone captain was taking it especially hard.

Without pause, Fives spoke up first, clearly angry, “If the Umbarans get to him, he’ll turn over all our intel! The defense codes, everything!” The ARC trooper took a step back, motioning to the door you all had just walked through, “He’ll strike a crippling blow to the Republic!”

Jesse stepped up, “something has to be done! We can't risk the possibility that he might escape!”

“As long as Krell is alive, he is a threat to every one of us.” Tup reasoned, looking towards the Captain.

It was clear your lover was conflicted. Clones were made to serve the Jedi and the Republic. Killing their General, even as an act of justice, goes against their very creation. It wouldn’t be easy…

“Rex,” You abandoned protocol. Right now, you chose not to be the 501st field surgeon. You chose to be his cyare. You took his gloved hand and squeezed it, “He’s a traitor. One who has done irreparable harm to you and your brothers. If the Umbarans let him out, he’ll hurt even more people.”

You could see the conflict in his beautiful eyes. With a sigh he nodded, “I…agree.”

The five of you went back into the tower, lowering into the brig. Once there, Fives approached Dogma’s cell and opened it, getting him to his feet.

Rex stepped forward, keeping a steady glare on Krell, “Turn around, and step toward the wall.” He commanded, readied one of his pistols.

The former General rolled his small eyes and turned.

“On your knees.” Your lover growled.

Damn…not the time. But damn…

Jesse pressed a button on the console, opening the cell. Tup remained next to him, stock still.

The former Jedi chuckled darkly, turning his head slightly, “You’re in a position of power now. How does it feel?” He sneered.

“I said,” Rex steadied his pistol, aimed right at Krell’s back, “On. Your. Knees.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” The disgraced General taunted, voice smug and full of hate, “But I can sense your fear.”

There was a shift in Rex. Suddenly, he seemed uncertain, and even scared to a degree.

He’s trying to go against his very purpose.

Your eyes roamed over to Fives and the rifle on his hip. If Rex couldn’t pull the trigger, who would?

Could you?

“You’re shaking, aren’t you?” Krell continued to poke at the clones' anxiety, “What are you waiting for? The Umbarans are getting closer.”

The captain tried to steady his trembling aim, “I have to do this.”

What would happen to Rex if he did? Court martial? Arrested? Decommissioned? Would Kamino call for his mind to be wiped?

You took a subtle step towards Fives, hand slowly reaching for the rifle on his hip.

The fallen Jedi laughed, “You can’t do it, can you?” His fucking voice was smug and overconfident, “Eventually you’ll have to do the right thing and-”

In one swift movement, you slipped Fives’ rifle into your hands and pulled the trigger, ripping Pong Krell's life away.

He collapsed, choking on his last words and hitting the ground.

Save them. Protect them.

All of those Krell hurt and killed ran through your mind.

The 501st.

The 212th.

Your eyes met your lovers. Rex looked at you, surprised, fearful and devastated. You went against your purpose as a doctor. All so he didn’t have to.

You’d do it again. To protect him. Save him. For him.

Rex.

#reader insert #tcw x reader #captain rex #captain rex x you #captain rex x reader #clone trooper tup #clone trooper dogma #clone trooper jesse #arc trooper fives #pong krell #darkness on umbara #umbara arc #tcw x you #tcw rex #star wars x reader #star wars tcw

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yuri-is-online · 6 months ago

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Hello hello! Anon here. First of all, congratulations on getting accepted for your courses! Don't worry about trying to balance work and the blog, we will always be here waiting for you. Second of all, your whole Yutu AU has been really fascinating to look through. (Though that may be because of my bias toward Fire Emblem Awakening, as it was what got me into the series) Sorry for the incoming wall of text, but it's been giving me THOUGHTS.

So imagine this: whoever Yutu's dad is (I'll pick Azul for this example because I headcannon his English voice somewhere between Matt Mercer's Chrom and Olivert from The Legend of Heroes games) finds out who Yutu really is. You remember that cutscene after Chapter 13 in Awakening, with the Lucina reveal and Chrom has this: "You deserved better than a sword and a world full of troubles. I'm sorry."? Imagine Yutu hearing something like that: the acknowledgement of everything he's gone through, the pain of knowing his dad couldn't do anything and can't do anything more than offer words, and the reality that it might now be really possible to change the future? I imagine Azul breaking down after hearing all that because the last thing he wants to do is hurt Yuu or his son after everything he's been through. Oh goodness, the two of them both need hugs.

Second: did Crowley tip off the Magic Marshalls (because I think he would) and force Yuu to take the blame for his negligence (because he absolutely would)? Now imagine Yutu finding this out and telling his dad. Now his dad knows Crowley is a cheapskate who fobs his work onto everyone else without a second thought. And now he's responsible for having Yuu taken away and starting all this? Knowing the boys and how far they would go for Yuu I'd imagine they don't take that well. In other words, to slightly alter a quote from Regina in Once Upon A Time: "I guess killing a crow suddenly made the top of my to-do list."

Sorry for the wall of text but that's been rattling around in my head for a few days (so make of it all what you will). Hope you're doing well and looking forward to what's next!

-The anon who loves Riddle & Azul

AHHHHH (i feel like I always take forever to answer your asks I am sosososososososososo sorry, this one just drove me crazy in a good good way)

Listen fire emblem awakening was my entire personality for like all of middle school. The only thing i wanted to talk about was chrobin. I celebrated Morgan and Lucina's birthdays by drawing them. I think I still have a Cherche x Libra fan art thing I drew on some sheet of paper somewhere in my things because I was SO MAD that no one shipped them and I couldn't find fan art of them anywhere and I just oooooooooooh. THE WAY CHROM GETS A NEW CRIT LINE ABOUT HOW ANYTHING CAN CHANGE AFTER THE REVEAL???? BECAUSE OF HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO KEEP THAT PROMISE AND GIVE LUCINA A BETTER WORLD???? i just cant be normal about them i am so sorry. R+A annon I love you, I love you so much for this you made my entire month and possibly my year. Awakening is also what got me into the series and made me so many friends I just love her so much. She's an icon and I hope she gets remastered with Sumia either deleted or with a fucking personality.

I should probably sit down and actually write a timeline for myself of events, but since I am free to lean in to the fire emblem pacing, I want to say that monsters from Yutu's timeline start showing up (similar to how the Risen do in Awakening) in the past and stirring up trouble, which leads to an event where Yutu panics and forgets himself in his desperation to protect his dad. The main way the future kids always proved themselves was by showing their mother's wedding ring, but Yutu doesn't have that so really it's just up to his dad to see someone who looks like him and Yuu blended together, supposedly from Yuu's world using magic and above all else crying out and driving up his own blot levels to protect him calling him dad. For Azul! Yutu it's especially painful, he feels like he already knows what his dad is going to say. That he's disappointed in him. That he has no idea how they could possibly be related. That he hopes in this future he turns out to be different. But that's not what happens.

Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

As for your second question, I did not really write Crowley like that no. It was more like he was the first person mysteriously arrested after the Magical Marshall's decided to finally do their job. I was writing it like they wanted to ship Yuu away to cover up for their own incompetence in preventing seven overblots instead of properly investigating what might have caused that. He's not completely innocent though, so yes. The boys do not take it well at all. And please do not apologize for sending in your thoughts, I am so so slow but I love hearing from you.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #azul ashengrotto x yuu #azul ashengrotto x reader #riddle and azul anon

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months ago

Note

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070219

“The Last in Line” by xiaq

it’s funny it’s cool it’s sweet and it’s hot i don’t know what more you could ask for. xiaq has such a strong grasp on characterization; these characters really feel like they walked off set and straight into xiaq’s fic

The Last In Line by xiaq

Rating: Mature

30,737 words, 13/13 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator Chose not to Use Archive Warnings

Tags: Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It, in which the gang defeats Vecna but gets thrown back in time to 1983, everyone remembers what happened except for Eddie, who is now, very confused, Sharing a Bed, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma Recovery, Angst with a Happy Ending, no beta we die like Eddie definitely did not

Summary:

“Sorry,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, I know this doesn’t make any sense to you, but can I just–” Eddie lets him approach, this time. Lets him reach out to touch, to curl his fingers in the hem of Eddie’s shirt. “Sorry, I know I probably sound crazy, I just––” he pulls it up, stares at Eddie’s side, and then lets out a hysterical little noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob. “You’re ok,” Steve says. His fingers are hot on Eddie’s skin, pressed light and shockingly reverent to the space between his hip and rib cage. “You’re ok,” he repeats. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “Hey,” Eddie says. It comes out more breathless than he’d prefer but Steve fucking Harrington has him backed against a wall in a bathroom with his hands up Eddie’s shirt so he thinks a little lack of air is warranted. “Are you ok?” The fingers on his abdomen flex. "No,” Steve says. His eyes are wide and fathomless and the look on his face is terrible. “No, I’m not even remotely ok.”

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #time travel #fix it #hurt/comfort

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finnsbubblegum · 2 years ago

Text

Birthday Crasher (Part 1) (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: Pov: Joel’s ex-wife crashed Sarah’s first birthday.

Words count: 1.2k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 7 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

"What are you doing here?!" Joel raised his voice before she even said anything.

"Oh, so no "hi", "how are you doing?", "long time no see". Why do you think I'm here, Joel?" Joel's ex wife complained.

Joel sighed and he pinched his nose bridge.

"I'm her mother, Joel. I gave birth to her a year ago and I can't see my daughter on her birthday? It's her first birthday for God's sake."

"You have no right to be here. You left us, remember?"

"Don't try to blame me, Joel." She raised her index finger to Joel.

"If you really love her then why did you leave her?!" Joel raised his voice.

"I'm not gonna let you see her. You're not her mom." Joel shook his head.

"Oh, I'm not her mom. And she is?" She started to put you in the topic.

"Don't bring her into this." Joel growled.

"What? You love her? Did you fuck her?" She pushed Joel on the chest.

"Stop it! You need to leave! Now!" Joel grabbed her wrist and yelled at her.

Everyone in the house stopped talking to each other when they heard Joel's voice. Their eyes all pointed at the window to peek at what was happening. You flinched too when you heard him yell.

"Just let me see her once." She begged.

"That's not gonna happen." Joel turned away from her heading back to the house.

"You know what, Joel? Fuck you! Fuck everyone! and Fuck that bitch who stole my baby!" She shouted so everyone in the house heard her.

You shook as you heard those sentences coming from her mouth. You felt guilty for stealing her baby, but on the other side you knew Sarah shouldn't be raised with someone like her. Sarah deserved the best.

"What did you just say?" Joel turned back to her and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah, you heard me Joel. I called her a bitch. B-I-T-C-H. Bitch." She scoffed.

Everyone gasped and stared at you. You just stood there frozen with Sarah in your arms.

"Leave. I asked you twice and I'm not gonna ask you again." Joel clenched his jaw.

"Yeah? What are you gonna do, huh?" She pushed Joel again on the chest.

"Fuck!" Joel shouted at her face, clenching his fist holding himself from hitting a woman.

Joel was a gentleman. He didn’t hit women. But you knew he couldn't hold his anger anymore. Too many people had heard and seen too much about their problems. So you decided to go out and stop the fight. You asked Flo to hold Sarah for a while since Joel didn't want his ex-wife to see Sarah and you understood.

"Oh! The bitch's here to rescue." She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

"Get back inside." Joel gestured to you to go back inside the house.

You ignored him and approached them closer instead.

"Will you guys stop? Everyone heard you by the way. Do you really want to ruin Sarah's birthday?" You crossed your arms on your chest.

The two of them stayed quiet for a moment just realizing what they did. They just embarrassed her daughter in front of the public.

"Sorry. Come on, darlin'. Let's go." Joel put his arms around you.

"Fine, Joel. If that's what you want. You know I can come by anytime. Just tell my baby, her mom said happy birthday." She caved in.

Joel scoffed at his ex wife's words.

"I will." You turned your head and looked at her.

She scoffed and turned away to get back to her car. When Joel and you got back inside, the house was silent. Everyone didn't dare to say a thing. They just stared at you and Joel as you walked inside.

"Show's over guys." Joel was ashamed that everyone witnessed him and his ex-wife's drama.

"Why don't we dig in? Help yourself." You invited everyone to start eating the food and desserts you had prepared.

Everyone awkwardly walked to the food corner and started eating. It didn't take a long time until the house was full of mumbling and everyone acted like nothing had happened.

"Let's eat, Joel." You grabbed some food and put it on the plate.

"Here." You gave Joel the plate.

“Thank you.” Joel took the plate from your hand.

"I'll check on Sarah." You stroked his upper arm before you went to find Flo.

"She's sleeping." Flo showed you Sarah's face who was sleeping soundly.

"I'll put her in her crib." You took Sarah from Flo's arms, put Sarah in her bedroom, and went back to Joel.

"How's Sarah?" Joel asked you.

"She's fine. She's sleeping." You assured him.

"Okay. We'll talk later." Joel whispered to you and you nodded.

The birthday party went for another few hours and people were starting to leave one by one. Until the last one, Flo.

"Thanks guys. I had a great time today. Hope Sarah likes my gift." Flo said as she hugged you and Joel for goodbye.

"Thank you for comin'." Joel held the door handle, opening the door for her.

"Thanks Flo. I'll see you tomorrow." You waved your hand goodbye.

"What a mess." You sighed.

"We have to clean up. Come on." You patted Joel's back.

You started cleaning up and he helped too. You grabbed a big trash bag and gave it to Joel. Then you found some empty clean containers to keep the leftovers.

"I'm sorry." Joel suddenly apologized.

"For what?" You raised your head to face him while you moved the leftovers to the containers.

"I know you heard what she said. You're not a b-" He shook his head as he put the trash inside a big plastic bag.

"Bitch?" You cut him before he even finished the word.

"Yeah." Joel sighed.

"I'm sorry I made her feel that way, Joel." You apologized for making her feel like you took her baby away.

"Don't. Don't be sorry. You didn't steal Sarah from her. You saved Sarah, instead. You saved us. You took care of her like your own. You cared for her. She abandoned her own daughter. She doesn't deserve to see her. That's what she gets for what she's done. " Joel insisted.

"I know. Sarah deserves the best, Joel." You looked at him as you closed the fridge.

"Sometimes I-sometimes I wish-" Joel sighed before he continued his sentence. He stopped cleaning up to finish his sentence.

"I wish I had met you sooner. You're so different from her, you know. You-you're perfect. You're everythin' I've been lookin' for. If I could just turn back time, I would find you. I swear on my life." Joel walked closer to you and cupped your cheeks.

Your heart broke. Your eyes were getting blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. You reached his hand that was resting on your jaw and rubbed it with your thumb. You moved forward a bit to get closer to his face. Thinking of kissing him but you hesitated. Joel’s lips were now only a centimeter away from yours. His lips moved closer to yours but he pulled away before he even touched yours. Both of you just breathed heavily on each other's faces holding yourselves from the tension. You squeezed your eyes and tears fell down.

“Fuck it.” You finally caved in and kissed Joel passionately.

He kissed you back and pushed you to lean on the fridge. The fridge shook because of your weight and you gasped. But he ignored it so you put your arms around his neck and continued kissing him.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @@violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

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embossross · 1 year ago

Text

From His Mind to Hers

chapter 13 >> Chapter 14>> masterlist

✣ Pairing: Hanma x AFAB fem!Reader

✣ Warning: 18+, minors DNI; unhealthy relationships & dark content

✣ Chapter CW: Processing trauma from abuse and sexual violence (rape aftermath), unhealthy coping mechanisms, revenge porn, slut shaming/misogyny, suicidal ideation (sort of – threats)

✣ Story CWs: patient/doctor relationships; smut (oral, ptv, pta, etc.), degradation, stalking, torture (not of y/n), murder, dubcon & abuse in c13, discussions of trauma and abuse, drug use, and more

✣ Synopsis: Forced into therapy, Hanma expects to waste his time and yours, but you’re not about to let the chance of a high-profile and higher paying patient slip through your grasp. The fact that you’re both attracted to each other doesn’t hurt either.

✣ Word Count: 5.5k+

The janitor deserves a raise.

The floors gleam, pearlescent and buffed to a shine that threatens to serve your reflection back to you. Where you sit, elbows to knees, staring at the floor, you notice every shoe scuff and dropped luggage tag. Fleeting messes that the janitor is quick to erase from existence. A few sweeps of the mop and everything returns to its former state, beautiful and shining.

“Flight NH451 to Okinawa is now boarding,” a crystalline voice announces first in Japanese, then English, then Mandarin.

No one else has time to study the floors. Compared to the bustle of Tokyo-Narita, Haneda Airport is calmer, but all airports in your experience share an atmosphere of restrained anxiety. For many people, it’s the one time they must completely surrender any pretenses of control over their lives and accept that they are subject to the whims of weather, technical failure, fate.

You know a thing or two about that.

Fussy babies burp and cry while their older siblings fare little better. The line for the Hong Kong Express baggage check stretches around the corner, creeping forward at a pace that promises a missed flight for whichever fool arrives with only two hours to make it to their terminal. A group of college-aged girls kneel on the floor, bags spread out as they shuffle the contents around, trying to find the magic formula that will sneak them below the weight limit. Hunched like they’re already exhausted from standing for so long, an elderly couple waits in mute silence, in a place beyond words. Nearly everyone else stares at their phones, willing the minutes to pass. It’s a fair difference from the energy you’d find over in arrivals, where half the passengers are haggard from a long day of international travel and the other half sprint, energized, into the arms of waiting loved ones. It churns your stomach to think about all those people, crying through tears of joy.

It may appear like the line isn’t moving, but it’s like the Argonaut. From where you’ve sat to the side watching for the last four hours, you know an assemblage of new faces will gradually replace these, the line somehow never shorter but its components entirely new.

In all this time, not one person has taken note of the woman rooted to one spot, the perpetual observer of the thousands of people who all have better places to be.

The promise of invisibility is what drew you to the airport this morning. Amid the minutiae and petty concerns of the mob, you may as well be furniture. Surrendering to that invisibility evokes a blissful relief.

It is your natural habitat.

As a child, you mastered the art of being there and not there at the same time. You remember miserable days spent locked in your room whenever you caught so much as a sniffle. Your mother would banish you to the narrow three tatami mat room, terrified that your germs might spread and infect her.

At first, every minute would tick by with the weight of eternity. Staring at the ceiling, phlegm draining back through your sinuses and stomach in a pounding knot, you would count each tile one by one. The trick was to stretch the count as long as possible, to sit and savor each number in your mind’s eye, because you knew when you finished it would be back to one again. No windows opened to the views outside, no toys to distract you. The most the little room offered was its thin walls through which you could hear your mother move about the house, her loud laugh down the receiver of the phone, the hum of the TV. All while you shook from fever, unattended.

Time would pass so slowly in that room. Gradually, impossibly, it would slow even further as your stomach grumbled, your throat spasmed from thirst. Your mother never thought to leave you any food or water to survive those long days in that room.

The thirstier you grew, the less you could ward off the realities of the body, thoughts fixating on each ache and pain, until finally, you learned to stop your thoughts altogether. To be there and not there at once.

Then, time would resume in a sprint, a long blink and night would fall. Once the sounds of your mother’s untroubled life ceased, you would make your move. On sock-covered feet, you would slip from your prison and edge your way to the kitchen, praying for invisibility, for no one to spot your midnight heist. You never dared fetch a glass, mimicking a thief’s caution as you leaned into the sink, mouth closing around the tap, where you would turn it onto a trickle and let the life-giving water permeate your cracked lips. In those moments, you would be there, brilliantly, blindingly there in spirit, but your body remained locked away in that room.

The tricks you learned in those days in that house have served you well over the years. Invisibility sometimes feels like a curse, resigning you forever to the periphery of life, but it also greets you like an old friend when you are most in need of protection.

How traumatizing then to search for it last night and find that old friend missing. When you needed it most, the old detachment abandoned you.

Hyper-present, you suffered every moment of Hanma’s pain and perversion. Countless times, you reached for your invisibility, hoping to slip out of yourself like a specter and leave your body to Hanma’s cruel hands, but you were only left twice as terrified to find yourself trapped inside yourself. Your mind, body, and soul were devastatingly one as you experienced the certainty that Hanma would shoot you dead as he brutalized you, as he held you with the gentleness of a lover, as he…

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You know it’s him. It must be. His smell still lingers on the fine hairs of your nostrils, singeing them with the stench of bourbon that bled from his pores. In the blue-black dark, you could barely make out his features as he threatened you – a masked intruder hovering above you – but fuck if you couldn’t smell him, stinking up your once safe, sterilized bedroom.

Just thinking about it makes you want to…

With trembling fingers, you hunt through your purse until you find a wad of tissues to wipe the sweat that beads across your brow. It is swelteringly hot in Departures, a mix of the unseasonably warm weather and the heat of hundreds of bodies thronging together, their every exhale warming the room.

Searching through the mass of bodies, you find the janitor still at work, fix on the friendly lines of his face. He gives no indication that he notices the heat, the throngs of people, or anything else but his work. The janitor mops the floors, contented. Like you, he has no designs to go anywhere else.

The line moves several meters forward while you watch the janitor. Eventually, he lifts his head and notices you for the first time. The muscles in your face ache as you summon a smile. The result must be obscene or hostile because he hurriedly returns to mopping, a few half-hearted brushes just for show before he scurries away entirely.

Now, you are alone again.

You put your head between your legs and try to breathe like they suggest people having panic attacks do in the movies. The position does help chase back your rising gorge and settles your rolling stomach. It does nothing for your thoughts.

You remember when Hanma’s long fingers found your clit, how he exploited his knowledge of your body to rub you to a forced little orgasm, like he wouldn’t be content until you were made an active participant in your indignity, his forever accomplice, the Stavrogin to his Fedka.

A thundering accompanies a plane taking off from the tarmac, loud enough to chase away the memories. You watch the massive passenger plane soar north until it becomes a speck on the horizon. It will never cease to amaze you how for the hundreds of people aboard that plane, each knows exactly where they are going and why. Their destination is well and truly decided. Too late to change their minds or second-guess.

Whenever you try to think of where you will go next – because surely you can’t live in the airport departures lounge, surely someone, anyone, will eventually realize the ghost of a woman has made a home there, will recognize that you’ve overstayed your welcome, will chase you out, right? – your brain throws up nothing but roadblocks. You imagine returning to your cold, hostile apartment, and the contents of your stomach dance in protest. Your apartment is no longer a safe space.

Your phone vibrates again, and this time, you don’t have the strength to ignore it. Fished from your pocket, you stare at the characters in Shuji’s name, tracing them one by one. Your finger hovers over the button to answer.

What he did last night – did to you – is unforgivable. You may not know what happened to Haitani, but it doesn’t matter. You did not deserve that.

And that should be that. A definitive break with Hanma is the only logical next step. Everything you built together is decimated, just so much sawdust stamped beneath his paranoid feet.

But where does that leave you? You know there will be no returning to your old life? The apartment will never be safe again now that Hanma’s been inside, not since you invited him inside. It will never be clean after what happened.

And maybe you won’t be either. Something inside you is fundamentally changed. Because even now, some part of you wants to go to him. Perhaps want is the wrong word. Without the old survival tools that carried you through the years, you feel cast adrift, weaker than when Hanma found you.

Eventually, Hanma will escalate from ignored phone calls and, vulnerable as you are, will you be able to say no to his face? Worse, will you lean into him, longing for his protection from the demons he himself unleashed on your life?

You don’t take his call, but you don’t leave the airport either. Nothing can change so long as you stay here, but then again, nothing can hurt you either.

Stuck, your return to staring at the floors.

You choose to take the elevator up to your apartment, spending the better part of the ride convincing yourself that no demons will await you, so all five senses revolt when you find the hallway outside your door laden with cardboard boxes. They’re not taped up like a delivery would be, and besides, you pick your mail up from the mailroom downstairs. Peeking into one box, you see it’s filled with your old textbooks from university, the ones that should be neatly shelved and collecting dust in your bedroom.

Inside, pornographic moaning greets you. Stopped in your tracks, you almost miss the changes: the photographs in the entry hall have been removed, your shoes are missing from the alcove. There is no mess, just gaps where your life should be.

While taking an itemized inventory of what’s missing appeals to you, the lewd sounds coming from the living room force you forward. On the TV, a naked woman rides a man. She carries on like it’s the best damn dick of her life, touching her own body like something sacred as she cries out.

The woman is you, of course you can see that much, but your brain struggles to play catch up and process this baffling, foreign view of yourself. It’s almost harder to comprehend how wanton you appear in the video rather than that such a video exists in the first place.

“I think we can agree there’s no need for a scene.”

Emerging from the bedroom, Takashi’s doesn’t spare the screen a second glance. It would only take one to confirm that the woman in the video is you, and that the man is decidedly not him.

Between self-indulgent rounds of sex with Hanma, you often wondered how you would feel if Takashi discovered your affair. Secretly, you longed for guilt. A great tsunami of devotion to Takashi and the concept of monogamy would rise within you, the tears would fall, and seconds later, apologies would follow. You hoped for a scene out of the soap operas, something normal.

The reality is less fraught as you are too stunned to summon up any response at all. If only Takashi would turn the video off. Then, maybe your brain would work again. There is no room for coherent thought around the wet, slapping sounds intermixed with moans coming from the TV.

“I knew you were sleeping with patients for months now. It never bothered me too much. So, when I saw the videos, I didn’t understand at first why I was so repulsed by it. But then, I put it together. I had figured some fat, rich fuck at work offered you enough money, and I could hardly blame you for that. If a client offered me money to fuck, I’d do it, too. But watching the videos, I realized, you weren’t just fucking this yakuza creep for money, were you? You liked it.”

There is a forcefield around Takashi that repels your gaze. You can test its parameters by starting at the juts of his knees and slowly climbing upward. It’s around his neck, the first bit of exposed skin, that the forcefield kicks into effect, and you find you cannot bring your gaze higher than the hollow of his throat, and even that takes a supreme effort. You turn back to the video playing out on screen.

“So you’re leaving me, then?” you say because it must be said if things are to continue from here.

“Things are busy at work. I don’t see why my life should be disrupted when I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sure you’ll take responsibility as the offending party and move out without a fuss.”

“That would be sensible,” you agree.

Heady with the realization that this is actually happening – you are truly breaking up with your boyfriend – you force yourself to look at him, one last look to imprint forever in your mind. Immediately, you wish you hadn’t.

Takashi looks past you to the video on screen, where the you of only a few weeks back is loudly and visibly announcing how much she likes every stroke of dick before erupting into a shaking orgasm. Lips curled as if tasting something foul, Takashi regards the woman in the video like something subhuman. You try to watch the video through his eyes, but you can’t break free from the chains of your own perspective, a fuzzy migraine cresting in your temples at the sight of Hanma’s body, memories of this pleasurable tryst weeks ago mixing with last night’s events until you feel like the edges of your brain are collapsing inward.

There is no point to torturing yourself with the video or further conversation. Ignoring the shame in your gut, you follow numbly a step behind Takashi as he finishes packing your things. Most of your meager belongings are already stacked in the hall, but still, there is something stunning about how quickly your life is packed up out of sight. After living together for eight years, you would have left such an indelible mark that only industrial strength tools could strip your essence from the walls of this place. There are a couple overlooked items: the vase of artificial flowers Shuji gifted you, a box of tissues if you care to be petty, the spoons with scalloped edges, but, functionally, your life is stripped, relegated to boxes, and pushed aside within a measly half hour.

All the while, the video plays on. When it finishes, autoplay kicks in and offers up a second to continue your humiliation. The second is slightly preferrable as you make less of a spectacle of your delirious pleasure in it, yet worse because it shows Shuji more clearly, the dragon tattoo on his back flexing as he pounds into your prone body, face crinkling in animal pleasure. You can’t stand to look at him.

These videos…the only explanation for their existence is Shuji. They’re an abomination, something that shouldn’t exist and can’t be allowed to continue to exist. The gall of their existence builds in you until you discover enough anger to break the silence that’s drawn tight between you and Takashi.

“Takashi, if I go quietly, will you please delete these videos?”

“Sure,” he agrees simply, but at their mention, Takashi then looks back to the sex tape on screen, and that same revulsion morphs the contours of his face into something unfamiliar. “I suspected it for months, and then after reading your diary, I knew it for certain, and still…seeing it? When I watched the first one, I debated if it was even real. It had to be some kind of tasteless hoax. Because that’s not you in these. You’re like a stranger. I mean, look at it,” he says, gesturing to the screen. “That’s not you. And that guy…How does touching that criminal freak not disgust you? It’s like watching a pig take a mud bath. Disgusting.”

The shelf where you once stored your medical magazines is barren. Naked. There isn’t much dust though. You had spent a few hours cleaning last Sunday. That’s good, you think, one good thing. Everything Takashi says about you is true. Your lack of fear or righteous hatred of Hanma signals a great moral failing on your part. You are a failure, Monstrous.

Spinning out in self-loathing, you stand mutely for a solid minute before your brain hooks onto a single detail and everything clicks firmly into place.

“Wait, you read my therapy diary?”

“Don’t go crying about privacy now. I could tell you were running around on me and wanted to know,” Takashi snaps.

The finer details of what you recorded in that diary escape you, but you know you frequently wrote about your conversations, encoding but not entirely skipping over references to his business. It was stupid, of course, but the diary was intended for your eyes only, an exercise in self-reflection. The same Takashi who told you he was coming into an unexpected windfall of money at work. The same Takashi who had ripped your bedroom apart, supposedly looking for signs of your infidelity. The same Takashi who had demanded details about your patients. If that same Takashi had read your diary months ago he would have known about the HKJ deal, about Haitani soliciting you, about far too much.

“You weren’t reading my diary because you were jealous. You were paid to spy on me, weren’t you?”

And you know just who paid him as well. Based of your three interactions, you should have predicted that Haitani is not a man who accepts defeat easily. He is like a river. When he can’t force his way through an obstacle, he finds a way around.

“I did what you should have done in the first place,” Takashi sneers.

It is not defensiveness, at least not as far as you can tell, that spurs Takashi to confess. In his mind, you’ve already been reduced to something subhuman, a creature undeserving of consideration let alone sympathy, someone he could justify the worst abuses against, so convinced of his own righteousness. But whatever grievance Takashi may imagine against you, nothing can compare to what Takashi cost you. If he hadn’t betrayed you to Ran, then last night…Hanma…

You think you could gouge Takashi’s eyes out and he still wouldn’t understand the hurt he caused you. Minutes prior, you felt completely extinguished, like your flames had been put out forever, but now a pilot light flickers and it’s enough to bring forth an inferno, a heat you didn’t dare hope you would ever feel again.

“How dare you! You want to lecture me about getting into bed with the yakuza when you’re climbing into the bank with one! What if you had gotten someone hurt or killed? Did you even think about what would happen to me? You’re a slimy, despicable, cowardly –”

Shouting over you as you continue to levy every imaginable invective against him, Takashi spits, “Like you’re some paragon of virtue. Were you thinking about your patients when you started screwing them? Or did you not give a fuck who you hurt? Last time I checked, they don’t let yakuza whores keep their licenses. Speaking of which, you should know I’ve already sent these videos to the Japanese Psychological Association. You can look forward to a call from the ethics board.”

The bomb drop has the desired effect. It collapses the floor beneath your feet, gobbles up the words in your mouth, and implodes the tiny sliver of security that you still clung to. A life gone in a moment.

You are going to lose your license.

No job.

No home.

No friends.

No boyfriend.

No security.

Nothing.

The last box of your things and the vase of flowers are shoved into your hands. They feel weightless in your arms. On autopilot, you accept them and Takashi’s pushing hands on your back as he shepherds you towards the door.

This is the last time you will see this apartment that you called home for so long: the warped wood that’s risen under the heat of the window, the lightbulb in the kitchen that flicks if your run the dishwasher at the same time, the dent no bigger than a thumbprint, or more accurately, a door handle in the wall from where the front door slammed into it with too much force.

You want to press pause, to slow down the moment. You would take a final photo if you could, breathe in the smell of this place and bottle it for a future date. Anything to linger for one second longer before you are cast out into the unforgiving cold.

Takashi does not take mercy on you.

“You should be thankful you don’t have a family to shame,” he hisses.

And then the door slams shut. With you on one side and your life on the other.

Everything you once were is gone forever.

On second look, there are fewer than a dozen boxes stacked in the hall. Such a small life. You thoughtlessly heft a small, light-seeming box onto the bundle already in your arms. Dazedly, you stumble past the rest, leaving them behind with no plan for when or who will come to collect them, and even less of an idea of where you’ll send them.

There is no hurry. Nowhere to go. Yet, you too quickly find yourself pressing through the revolving doors that lead out onto the street and the blinding midday sun, which fittingly leeches the color from the world, so that everything’s cast in long shadows. On instinct, you raise a hand to shield your eyes, dropping the little you own to shatter on the sidewalk. A pitiful relief wells in you as you drop to your knees to retrieve your belongings; it is something to do.

Since Takashi cratered the foundations on which your entire existence rested, the normally persistent voice in your head – the one that would caution you against calling a taxi when a subway ticket cost less than 200 yen or would push you to stay that extra hour in university, the one that essentially kept you alive – has been traitorously silent, and so you know that you ought to figure out a place to stay for the night, to calculate how long your savings will last, and brainstorm a strategy to fight the ethics board, but you can’t keep any one thought in your head long enough to develop something concrete. Each stirring of a thought drips through the cracks between your fingers, like trying to collect water in the cup of your palm. You can’t make a plan. What you can do is kneel on the dirty sidewalk and clean up your mess.

First, you right the little box you scooped up from the hallway. Peeking inside, you see it’s mostly filled with socks and underwear. The second box that Takashi forced into your hands is less useful. Inside are shattered picture frames, the photos inside detailing the lives you shared or, at least, lived in parallel. You can’t tell if they cracked in the fall or if Takashi ritualistically broke each as a parting gift. Even less useful somehow is the vase of fake flowers Hanma gave you, now lying scattered, a collection of jagged ceramic shards.

You herd the broken pieces into a little pile, careful as you do to avoid slicing your fingertips against the sharp edges. As you delicately lift one piece, you feel out something small and round affixed to the inside. With an emotion milder than curiosity, you peel the coin-like anomaly off. Holding it to the light, you puzzle at what looks like a microchip.

And then, all you can do is laugh, as your memory offers up an old spy movie where you saw a device just like this, hidden in a flower vase. It’s a bug.

Of course, he bugged your apartment. Even a gesture as simple as gifting you flowers in apology is warped, twisted into something malicious with Hanma. He’s been laying the foundation for your downfall for months now. Just waiting to crumble you to dust in his hands.

A familiar car pulls up to the curb where you sit, laughing maniacally to yourself. You laugh harder when you spot it. Perfect fucking timing.

The window rolls down, and for one terrible second, you lock eyes with Shuji. Terrible, venomous eyes, the gaze of a viper, hidden away behind glass lenses as if without that layer of protection, he might penetrate you to your core. No, not a viper, a basilisk.

The way he’s dressed, hair perfectly coiffed and in the tailored suit that is his work uniform, offends your sensibilities. From his height advantage, he peers down at you like a scientist watching a bug through a microscope. You feel as small as a mite.

“You can spend the night at my place,” Hanma says, without so much as a greeting because he need not dignify you with niceties. A person needn’t spare a termite a hello before stepping on it.

A plane flies overhead, so low it tricks the eye for a moment, makes you think it’ll crash into the skyscrapers dotting the cityscape. You follow it with your eyes until it’s long out of sight, retracing the chemtrail it leaves in its wake. You almost forget Hanma is here, watching.

Pressed through a sigh, Hanma says your name. His voice, toneless and impossibly deep strikes you like a whip, a thousand times worse than seeing him. It is the charge you need to act.

Bursting to your feet, you leave all but your box of underwear and march determinedly in the other direction. Adrenaline courses through your veins, a jittery but appreciated focuser, and for the first time, you are able to think outside your fugue state. You will find a hotel for the night, something cheap that pays by the hour. If you walk for five minutes, you’re sure to find something.

Anything is better than Hanma’s offer.

“Get in the car.”

You ignore Hanma’s first call and his second, pretending his voice doesn’t make your hands shake so hard you fear you’ll drop the box. The Bentley keeps pace with you to the right. At the first intersection, a redlight stops the Bentley dead.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The curse is a warning before Hanma charges out of the car, arms extended as if to grab you and drag you into the cavern of his Bentley. The dark interior beckons ominously, hinting at a cacophony of horrors. To go into that car is to die.

His fingers don’t so much as graze yours before you start to scream.

Hoarse, guttural screams that turn the necks of every passerby in the area emerge from your bruised throat, a scream that must be tearing your throat apart, but you can’t feel the pain through the adrenaline rush. Heads pop out of nearby shops to see who is making such a ruckus and why. Amid the animal shrieks, the occasional curse takes place, a well-timed “motherfucker” or “waste of space.” To anyone watching, you appear unhinged. A lifetime of pain and rage unleash in one concentrated exhale of agony. If you could bottle the force behind your bellows, they would blow a hole through Hanma’s brain and vaporize what’s left. You scream in his face like you hope to erase him from existence like he did you.

Time holds no meaning now, and you think you might black out or suffer a psychotic break that blacks over just what you say or do in those precious moments of freedom. Whether Hanma is appalled by your behavior, if it makes him want to hurt, fuck, or kill you is irrelevant. Blissfully blank, you become the beast Takashi thinks you are and growl and rage and bare your teeth.

Stunned into stillness by the spectacle, Hanma’s gaze darts between you and the spectators who could intervene, but as no one steps forward to help the crazy woman having a breakdown, Hanma loses his patience.

He slaps a hand over your mouth, muffling your hysterical shrieking. His body is so much larger than yours, something you once craved, but now it crowds and bullies you toward the parked door, where the wide-open passenger door signals your doom. You go silent. You transfer every bit of energy from your throat to your body. Biting and bucking, you fight him with every ounce of strength you possess.

No amount of thrashing could overpower Hanma at full-strength, but he treats you gently with none of last night’s brutality. Kid gloves try to handle you with care as if he would never think to harm you, no not you, his precious, beloved pet. How could you even think such a thing? Unwilling to hurt you, Hanma grapples against your flailing arms for a full minute before backing off, hands tugging at his hair in frustration. He is panting though not half so hard as you are.

“Would you fucking stop!” Hanma snaps. “You should be grateful for what I did. You should –”

Whatever lovely suggestion would have topped off that sentence, you don’t wait to hear, lashing out with a closed fist before he can finish.

You aim for his cheek, but Hanma sees the blow coming, so your fist glances off his neck.

The next punch is somehow more pitiful. Powered by your righteous indignation, you throw your full-body weight behind it, but Hanma bats you aside, so that your shoulder collides into his chest and the punch dies out against the air. Hanma folds the leftover arm behind your body and pins you to his chest, so that all the bucking in the world won’t be enough to break free. He is a titanium wall of muscle and violence, and he has you in his grasp. You think you might vomit.

All the energy in your body evaporates, and you slump into his embrace.

“Finally,” Hanma mutters but without frustration. There is a hint of satisfaction there. A hint of humor at your suffering.

“Let me go,” you whisper.

“Will you behave like a good girl if I do?”

“Let me go.”

Hanma sighs, “Oh, Doc, come on. All this carrying on over limp-dick Takashi? He’s not worth it.”

“Didn’t you hear? While you were eavesdropping, didn’t you hear?” you chuckle a little, a sound strange enough that Hanma eases up on his grip, enough so that he can peer down at your face. You are both equally surprised to discover that you are crying, little matte tears slipping down your cheeks. “I didn’t just lose my boyfriend and my apartment. Oh no! I’m also going to lose my fucking license!”

“What? Why would you lose your license?” Hanma visibly startles, and on any other day, you might have enjoyed one-upping him, but not today. And never again.

“Is this what you wanted from the beginning? To lay me completely low? Did you think that when I was broke and starving, I’d have no choice but to rely on your limited generosity? To let you play with me until you get bored? Because I have nothing left to give, Hanma. I’m not even a human being anymore. I’m nothing.”

“Listen, Doc, relax. This is a panic attack. I’ll take care of Takashi and whatever he did. I’ll make it go away. You just come home with me, and I’ll take care of you and –”

“I may be nothing, but I’d rather be nothing than be with you,” you spit in his face.

His hands slacken for a moment, and you use that moment of weakness to break free.

Once more, Hanma’s hand reaches out as if to grab you, but you turn to him and with every bit of solemnity in your soul, so that the words read with all the gravity of a blood oath, you swear, “If you force me to go anywhere with you, I swear I will find a way to kill myself.”

The fingers on Hanma’s hand flex. The veins pop and strain like his body is rebelling against him, urging him to clutch, grab, cage. But then that hand falls to his side, stills.

This time, when you walk away, he doesn’t follow.

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