#pls tell me if my wording was right in spanish lol

[gothcsz]

Visitation | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~4.3k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier visits you in prison after putting you in there.

Tags: SMUT, pwp, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, cock worship, ball sucking (we're doing it all!), unprotected p in v sex, bi!reader, mentions of f/f sexual activities, creampie, 2 degrading uses of the word(s) 'slut' and 'bitch', untranslated spanish, reader has hair that can be put into a ponytail and carded through, mention of reader losing weight, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, little to no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, barely beta'd, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: so this is def inspired by me being put into horny jail for no reason! straight up indulging in this fantasy, if you couldn’t tell by the bi!reader tag 🙂‍↕️ javier peña i went to jail for you, the least you can do is screw me right 😇 thanks to @ovaryacted for slithering into my brain and convincing me to write this, same with @probablyreadinsmut for lowkey enabling it too, lmfao. oh, and how could i forgot, this is my ride4ride fic for @javierpena-inatacvest lol she gave us this sexy masterpiece right here and i told her i'd write a riding fic back so voila! i hope you guys like it, we are so back (kinda... sorta...) 🖤

Javier leans back in the stiff, uncomfortable chair, fingers drumming lazily against the surface of the scratched-up table. The dim, fluorescent lights cast an unflattering yellowish glow over the grimy glass partition that separates him from the other side. The air in the room is stale, the only sound filling the emptiness is the slow, torturous ticking of the analog clock above the heavy steel door.

Every second drags until finally there’s movement. The shuffle of boots. The metallic clang of cuffs. And then, the slow, aching creak of the door.

There you are.

Dressed in that drab gray jumpsuit, wrists shackled in front of you, your hair pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes roam over you without shame, mapping the way your body has changed, the slight weight you've lost—but fuck, you still look so damn good. 

Like a fucking feast laid out before him. The curve of your hips is there, the same mouth he’s spent nights getting lost in still just as plush, just as dangerous.

Your eyes lock onto his and you freeze, the recognition flaring in your dark, narrowed gaze before your full lips part, nostrils flaring. The guard grumbles under his breath, nudging you forward and you move reluctantly, making a whole show of it; like you’d rather be anywhere but here with him. But Javi knows better. Knows the way your pulse is probably kicking up, just like his. Knows that despite everything, you still feel it too.

You sink into the seat across from him with a huff, and he watches as the cuffs come off, his own fingers flexing at the sound of metal unclicking.

You snatch then lift the receiver to your ear, and he follows.

“What the fuck do you want?”

That voice. Laced with biting attitude and something else he knows all too well—resentment, sure, but beneath that? Heat. Lust. A wound that never fully closed.

Javier wets his lips, his mustache twitching as he suppresses the smirk threatening to curl at the corners. Goddamn, he missed this. Missed you.

“Chiquita, why you bein’ so hostile?” His voice dips low, smooth as whiskey, feigning innocence. His brows draw together in a mock pout,  savoring the way you bristle at his tone. “Figured you’d be happy to see me.”

Your scoff is immediate, eyes rolling hard. “Have you forgotten why the fuck I’m in here in the first place?” You snap, no patience for his bullshit.

That attitude is what hooked him in the first place. You were never the type to be tamed, never the type to fall in line like the others. You made him work for it, played the game better than anyone. Had him chasing after you like a man possessed.

The way you writhed beneath him, nails scratching down his back, thighs locking around his hips, your breathy little gasps turning into full-on cries when he gave it to you just how you liked it—it was intoxicating.

It made him reckless, made him stupid. Made him a fucking addict for you. He lost himself between your thighs too many times to count, missed calls, ignored protocol, fucked up royally—all because of you.

And when shit got too messy, when the walls started closing in, he had to make a choice.

So he chose.

Chose to play you, to make you believe turning yourself in was your only option. 

And yeah, maybe tricking you wasn’t exactly the cleanest way to do it, but Javier always did have a habit of getting what he wanted—one way or another.

“¿Sigues en eso?” He tilts his head, settling back in his chair like he’s got all the time in the world. “I’m workin’ on getting you out.”

Your laugh is sharp, humorless. “Oh yeah? ¿Y por qué debería creerte? Eres un maldito mentiroso.”

He doesn’t flinch, shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. “Because I’m the only one taking care of you right now.”

Silence. He watches the shift in your expression, realizing that he’s the one putting money on your books, making sure you have what you need. That despite it all, despite how he fucked you over, he’s still the one looking out for you.

Your lips press into a tight, furious line. Then—

“Fuck you.”

You slam the receiver down, the sharp sound slicing through the air, and he feels it—the thrill, the heat licking down his spine. You turn away, signaling the guard that you’re done, but he doesn’t move. He just glances at Javier, waiting for his cue.

Javier gives him a lazy nod.

And just like that, the guard steps out of the room, leaving you two alone.

He watches as your lashes flutter shut, as you take a slow, measured breath like you’re trying to get a grip. And then, just as quick, you whip back around, snatching the receiver again.

Yeah. That’s more like it.

“What do you want?”

He leans in, forearms bracing against the table. “I just wanted to see you, baby. Been missin’ you a whole lot out here.” He sees the way your resolve wavers, however briefly, under the weight of his stare. “Still so fuckin’ pretty.”

You can try to act indifferent all you want, but Javi knows you. Knows what happens when he leans in close, when he lowers his voice, when he looks at you like this.

“Miss that pussy even more,” he murmurs, tongue swiping slow over his bottom lip. His gaze drops lower, like he can see through the fabric of your jumpsuit, down to the heat between your thighs. “You been takin’ care of her in there?”

You tilt your head, eyes glazed over with mischief, giving him a slow, sultry once-over. “You really wanna know?”

He doesn’t answer—doesn’t have to. His tongue drags out again, a deliberate movement, and your eyes track it, just like he knew you would.

Javier watches your pupils dilate, sees the memories flash across your face—the same ones flooding his mind. His tongue buried inside you, lapping at every inch of your cunt, drinking your heady sap while you quivered beneath him.

His cock twitches in his jeans, stiffening against the rough fabric.

“Found someone to help me pass the time,” you murmur, watching his reaction carefully.

His expression tightens, the easy arrogance in his face slipping for just a second before jealousy flares hot in his chest. His mind goes straight to the worst fucking scenario—some sleazy correctional officer shoving you against the wall, making you take his cock like you belong to him instead. The thought burns.

“Who?”

You bite your lip, clearly enjoying the shift in his demeanor. Letting the tension linger, stretching it out until you finally purr, “My cellmate.”

Javier exhales shakily.

His jealousy shifts, transforming into something filthier. His cock throbs painfully against his zipper as his mind floods with sinful images of you—your naked body tangled with another woman, fingers buried in her cunt, lips slick and shining as you look up at her with those heavy-lidded eyes he knows too fucking well.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His hand slips beneath the table, palm pressing against the thick bulge in his pants, fingers flexing as he tries to keep his composure.

“And she’s been takin’ care of her?” His voice is rough, laden with interest.

You hum, mirroring his stance, leaning in close until your breath fogs up the scratched glass separating you. “Leaves me satisfied every time. Can’t complain… had to teach her a thing or two, though.”

“Yeah?” His hand continues to palms his growing bulge under the table, thumb stroking over the fabric, imagining your lips wrapped around him. “She spoilin’ you? You fucking her too, gettin’ your mouth full of pussy or what? Or is she the one doin’ all the work?”

Excitement bleeds into your countenance as your breathing picks up, chest rising and falling a little faster now.

“I do it all, Javi.” Your voice is a sexy, quiet purr that makes his cock ache. Your fingers drag slowly down the glass, a teasing mimicry of how you’d drag them down his chest. “I see why you like being in control so much. Feels fucking good when she comes all over my tongue.”

Javier swears under his breath, gripping the receiver so tight his knuckles turn white. He can see it so vividly, the way you’d dominate, take what you want, just like he does to you.

“Fuck.” His hips roll deeper into his palm, subtly trying to relieve some of the pressure. “Tell me—what else do you do?”

He needs to hear it, needs to burn it into his brain for the nights when he’s alone, aching for you, stroking his cock to memories that no longer feel like enough.

Your pretty eyes twinkle, eyelashes fluttering as you lean closer, voice dropping to a hushed, breathy confession. “We rub our pussies together, and it feels so good,” you moan sweetly, lost in the memory. “I fuck her with my fingers until she’s crying into the pillow. Ride her face, trying to pretend that it’s you, but she’s so soft. It’s nice sometimes, but fuck, Javi—” you shudder, not breaking eye contact, “I miss getting fucked by you.”

Javier stands so fast, the chair scrapes loudly against the floor, receiver slamming into its cradle as he strides straight for the door that leads to your side of the room, his fingers fumbling with the keys he secured earlier.

The moment he crosses the threshold, you’re on him, fists gripping the front of his shirt, yanking him down as your lips crash together in a desperate, bruising kiss. He barely has time to kick the door shut before he’s walking you backward, guiding you with firm hands until the backs of your thighs hit the table, forcing you to perch on the edge.

Your hands are greedy, roaming over the hard planes of his body, fingers raking through his hair, gripping his shoulders, smoothing down his chest. He groans against your mouth, reveling in the way you touch him like you’re trying to memorize every inch of him all over again. His tongue sweeps along the seam of your lips before plunging inside, licking deep, tasting you.

Then your hand is there—palm pressing against the thick outline of his cock through his jeans, fingers curling around his length, stroking slow.

“Shit,” he grunts against your mouth, hips jerking up into your palm.

His hands are just as restless. One palms your tit, kneading roughly, while the other glides up your outer thigh, his thumb slipping beneath the loose fabric of your jumpsuit to graze bare skin, savoring the weight of you in his grasp. He pulls away only to bite down on your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before releasing it with a wet snap.

“Mouth tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he rasps, breath fanning hot against your lips. His fingers slide into your hair, yanking the ponytail loose, letting your tresses spill over your shoulders. He tangles his hand in the strands, grips tight, pulling your head back, exposing the soft column of your throat, locking you in place beneath him. “Bet it feels fuckin’ sweet, too. That bitch make you forget how to suck cock, or do I need to remind you?”

Your whine is immediate, needy, and he can practically see the way your mouth waters, tongue darting out as if you’re already imagining wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck my throat, Javi.”

He chuckles darkly, bringing you in with the tight hold he has on your hair as he crashes his mouth back onto yours, devouring you, tongue thrusting deep.

Your hands are already working his belt open, yanking it free with practiced ease before moving to his zipper. He growls when your fingers slip inside, brushing through the coarse hair at his navel, teasing the thick base of his cock.

“Shit—”

Then you wrap your fingers around his shaft, and fuck, he swears it’s never felt this good. His dick throbs against your palm, heavy and hot, leaking onto your fingers as you stroke him slowly, teasing him, making him suffer.

He can’t take it. He needs more.

“Ponte de rodillas.”

His hand slips from your hair as he steps back, dropping into the chair you’d just been sitting in, manspreading wide. His jeans hang open around his thighs, exposing the thick, aching length of him. His cock lies heavy against his stomach, veins prominent, the swollen tip glistening with precum, smearing into the dark hair of his happy trail.

You obey instantly, sinking to your knees, sliding between his thighs like you belong there. Which you do.

“Take your top off, baby,” he murmurs, desire evident in his tone. “Show me those pretty tits of yours.”

You bite your lip, trying—and failing—to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That gorgeous smile. It’s dangerous. It reminds him of all the things he tries to keep buried, the real feelings tangled beneath the lust, the ones he’d rather not acknowledge.

Javier’s serious thoughts vanish the second your top half is exposed. His breath stutters, hunger sharpening in his brown eyes as your tits bounce, nipples peaked and aching. You shift slightly, arching your back just enough to tease him, and his gaze shamelessly devours every inch of bare skin now on display.

Then he sees it. A lovebite, right where the swell of your right breast begins. It pisses him off.

His expression darkens, heat shifting from lust to possessive jealousy.

Before you can react, is hand snakes around the back of your neck once more, fingers tightening in your hair as he yanks you forward, shoving your face into his lap. The hard weight of his cock presses against your cheek, and he grips the base with his other hand, slapping the tip to your lips, smearing precum across them.

“Open.”

It’s not a request.

The second your lips part, he thrusts forward, feeding his cock into your mouth in one brutal stroke, groaning at the slick warmth as you struggle to take him all at once. Your hands clutch at his thighs as you gag, saliva spluttering everywhere. 

A muffled moan of protest vibrates around his length, but he doesn’t care, moving you up and down with his hold on you. His head falls back, the tendons in his neck flexing as you begin to match his thrusts eagerly, sucking him down with hollowed cheeks, tongue moving sinfully. 

Javier gathers your hair into his fist, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail so he can control you with more force and desperation. Your nails dig into the meat of his thighs, dragging down his skin, the sharp sting spurring him on.

He watches, enthralled, as drool and precum smear across your lips, dribbling down your chin, coating your throat. Each wet squelch echoes in the air, obscene and addictive.

“So fuckin’ hard to stay mad at you with a mouth like this,” he grits out, hips moving enthusiastically while fucking your mouth. His free hand slides over the swell of your breast, thumb flicking your gummy nipple, making you moan around him “Holy shit, chiquita—your throat is fuckin’ heaven.”

Javier lets out a throaty groan, head lolling on his shoulders at the feel of you choking around his cock with every harsh stroke. He chases after the filthy gagging sound, holding you down until your nose is flush against the damp curls at his base, soft puffs of breath exhaling from your nose as you struggle to breathe.

“That’s right, mierda putita, guess you didn’t forget how to suck cock after all,” he laughs breathlessly, his words tapering off into a sharp grunt when your tongue drags along the juicy protruding vein that curves around his shaft; throbbing when the tip of your tongue brushes against it.

He jerks your head back suddenly, pulling you off his cock with a wet pop, and stares down at the wrecked state of you.

Your lips are swollen, eyes dazed, spit and precum caked all over. A beautiful and obscene visage.

“Javi,” you rasp, voice raw. Your hands stay busy, both wrapped around his cock, twisting, pumping, stroking in opposite directions, making a mess of him.

Your tits press together as you work him over, your nipples just barely grazing against his thighs. 

“I need your cock inside me. Please.”

He exhales sharply, chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. His eyes flicker to the mark on your chest again, jealousy spiking all over.

“Do you?” Javier mocks, putting just enough pressure on the bruise to make you squirm. “Seems like you’ve been doin’ just fine without it. S’that why you’re lettin’ her mark you up?”

You don’t get the chance to answer. He yanks you forward again, but this time, he shoves you lower—forcing you down until you’ve got a mouthful of balls.

He groans, eyes fluttering closed as your mouth opens, tongue stroking over the sensitive skin of his sac, licking, teasing, making him curse under his breath.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he pants, feeling your lips curve into a smirk as you suckle at his scrotum, getting them warm and wet.

Your hands never stop jerking his dick, moving rhythmically. His breath shudders as pleasure builds. He could spill down your throat, paint your face in his spunk—but he’s been fantasizing about this moment since making the plans to come visit last week.

He needs to be inside you. Needs to bury himself in that tight, wet pussy he’s missed so fucking much.

His grip in your hair loosens—a silent signal that you have control again. You pull back slowly, leaving a string of spit bridging your lips to his balls.

“I’m just having fun with her. You know I’m yours, Javier.”

Your tongue flicks out, kitten-licking at his slit, circling his spongy head, then tracing that sensitive vein before pressing your lips fully against him. You make out with his cock like you would his pouty mouth, worshiping every inch.

His heart damn near bursts at your words paired with such a euphoric act. Damn fucking right you’re his.

“Mmm, chiquita… come up here and ride me.”

You fucking giggle, a sultry, wicked little sound.

It’s a stark contrast to the hardened, fiery woman who had been dragged in here earlier, all steel and bite. But now? Now you’re dripping with excitement, turning into the version of yourself he’s missed most—the one who melts at his touch, who aches for him the way he aches for you.

Javier leans back as you slowly rise to your feet, utterly enthralled as he watches you strip bare, peeling away every last scrap of fabric until you stand before him in nothing but a pair of plain white socks.

Fuck.

He’s not sure where to look—those full and soft tits, the soft curves, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips, the luscious, messy wetness between your thighs, the bush at your mound making him feral. His fingers twitch with the need to touch, to grab, to claim.

Javier fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, popping them open hastily but leaving it on, needing the contrast of his still-dressed body against your completely bare form. His control is slipping, hips shifting as he strokes himself, his cock aching for the heat of your cunt.

“Vamos, súbete, nena,” he murmurs, his hips shifting provocatively, arms reaching for you. He expects you to straddle him immediately, to sink down onto his cock like the greedy little slut he knows you to be. But you don’t. Not yet.

Instead, you turn away from him.

You brace your hands against the edge of the cold metal table, bending forward, presenting yourself like a sinful offering.

His breath catches in his throat, jaw going slack as his half-lidded eyes drink you in.

Your messy cunt glistens, soaked from how wet you got blowing him. The soft curls framing your pussy lips only make her look even more enticing, your swollen folds parting slightly, practically beckoning his tongue to part them like the red fucking sea.

He wants to spread you open with his fingers, to press his mouth against that pretty, weeping slit and drink every single drop from your tight, wet hole.

You smirk over your shoulder, rolling your hips just enough to make his mouth water, and then you spread your legs even wider, blooming yourself open completely for him.

Javier groans, his grip tightening around the base of his cock.

“Stop bein’ a fuckin’ tease and c’mere before I leave you with nothing.”

You laugh, the sound dripping with amusement. “That doesn’t sound ideal for either of us, Jav.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

He pulls his chair forward, closing the distance, and you move with him, reaching down to grab his cock, keeping him steady as you finally—finally—lower yourself.

The first push inside is enough to make both of you moan, your walls stretching, gripping, molding around him as he sinks into your cunt until you’re fully seated on his cock.

“Ay, Javi…”

“That’s right, baby," he groans, pleasure clawing up his spine. “Shit, you feel fucking amazing.”

Your forearms rest against the table, giving you leverage as you begin to move, rolling your hips in a teasing, delicious rhythm. The reverse cowgirl position gives him the best fucking view—your slick folds stretching around his cock, your greedy little hole swallowing him over and over, sucking him in deeper.

His breathing grows ragged as a thick, creamy ring forms at the base of his shaft. The wet sounds of your pussy slapping against him fill the room, weaving with your high, breathy cries.

“Javi! Javi! Ohh—fuck me you’re in so deep, ah shit your cock feels so good inside my pussy baby fuck me!”

You’re a blabbering mess, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as your pace quickens, your ass bouncing against his lap.

Javier watches, completely wrecked, large hands grabbing at your ass, squeezing, kneading the meaty flesh. His thumbs pull your cheeks apart, exposing the tight, untouched pucker above your stretched pussy, and his cock throbs at the sight.

Without warning, his palm cracks against your ass.

You yelp, jolting from the sudden impact, your rhythm faltering for a second before you push through it, still grinding, still taking him.

“Keep fuckin' taking it.”

Another slap. Then another. The heat of your ass gets hotter with each strike. 

Your moans turn into soft, gasping sobs, the overwhelming pleasure tipping you into something almost delirious. But Javier doesn’t let up nor does he give a shit.

Because he knows—deep down, past the pain, past the shock—you fucking love being treated like this.

His cock slips out of your pussy, smeared in your mixed wetness, swollen and pulsating as it rests between your ass cheeks. Your body doesn’t know any better, still grinding against him, his dick sliding between your sticky lips, making a sloppier mess.

Javier actually fucking whimpers at the sight, teeth biting into his bottom lip while his hands moved from your sore ass up to your love handles, pushing you further up the table as he stands.

He grabs his wet cock, smacking it against each cheek before he sheathes himself inside you again.

“Javiiiii,” you sing for him.

“That’s right, just like that.” He grunts, slipping his hands up until he’s cupping your tits, pulling you flush against his chest as he starts plowing you vivaciously. 

His fingers tug, roll, pinch and strum at your sensitive nipples, the texture of his mustache at your neck as he licks and nips at it, leaving blotchy marks of his own as both of you begin to orgasm.

“Please please please don’t stop Javi, oh my g— I’m about to come,” you whimper, totally fucked out, digging your nails into his wrists as he continues to play with your tits, dragging scratch marks down his brown forearms.

One hand leaves your breasts and glides down to your pert clit, rough fingertips swirling it around, pinching it, and that does you over.

“Come all over my cock, fuck, eres tan pinche hermosa.” 

You turn your head and he quickly slots his mouth over yours, the kiss messy and sloppy as your high pitched moaning fills his mouth, his tongue licking over your teeth and swapping spit.

His thrusts grow frantic, rutting into you wildly, holding your bouncing tits for dear life when he finally comes, clutching you so tight he’s almost afraid he’ll crush you to death. 

You’re both panting frenziedly, all types of bodily fluids coating your skin. His mind feels fogged over, orgasm so intense he swears he’s seeing fucking stars.

“Mmm,” you hum, going pliant in his arms while he holds you, caressing you dotingly, swollen lips leaving open mouthed kisses all over your bare shoulder and up your neck, making you sigh contently.

“Te extraño,” he mutters sincerely against your skin and he feels your body tense briefly.

“Then why am I in here?” Your voice is a mix of frustration and something softer, hurt, he guesses.

Javier hesitates, the lines of worry etching deeper into his face. “It’s complicated,” he admits, his words slow and measured, “but I meant what I said—I’m workin’ to get you out.”

You offer no reply—only a long, weary sigh that betrays the depths of your desire and the burden of your reality.

He pulls out of you then, already missing your warmth, and you both hiss at the feeling.

Then he sees his milky spend bubbling out of you, dolloping at your clit. He’s quick, fingers returning to your used cunt as he collects it and shoves it back in, plugging you with his seed.

“Hold it in, chiquita. When you get back to your cell, I want her to eat my cum out of you.”

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @penascigarette . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk .

[nightbutterfly09]

Valentines day 

(btw those who get flowers I recommend getting yourself invested in flower language, I probably spent most of my time on researching this lol) (also, I may be biased [is that surprising?] So Sae might get two scenarios sometime later.. we’ll see, if you want one for the other pls share your ideas and tell me about them!) Keep in mind: Valentine’s day is celebrated differently around the world. In this I made that quite obvious but it’s always written there.

Sae Itoshi:        

/small piece of info: he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/

He was a busy man, and naturally the world was against you two spending time on this special occasion. He had another long training day and they didn't take no for an answer, not even if he made sure he was free today days before. 

By the time you heard the front door of your luxurious apartment open it was already 8pm. Everything you wanted to do went out in the trash.

There you were sitting on the barstool sipping on some warm tea on this chilly February night.

You were engrossed in your phone but weren't into it in particular. Your mind was everywhere except for the article you were reading.

Sae knew he f-ed up. Although he really couldn't do anything about it. It isn't in his hands when he is called in for training. He has the right to take a break but the sports industry just doesn't always work like that.

Not to mention, in the back of your mind, you always knew that you’d only come after work. Just because he loved you deeply it didn't mean he’d throw years of work out the window for love.

His arms tangled around your waist which made you startled. “Honestly, I already spoke to you a lot and you are reading such a stupid article?” “It's..not that stupid” 

“It is, how about next time you just ask me how it went?” The article was about Itoshi Sae’s newest match, all the tricky goals he made and also how he made the Spanish striker look even better. “I do, you always tell me you were outstanding as usual” you chuckled.

Even if you were a little salty at him, that wasn't an excuse enough to be mad at him. At least in your book.

“Happy Valentine's day mi vida.” He whispered into your ears and got your phone out of your grasp. 

“So far it's not so happy” but then he let go and gave you a small box. “Wait…” 

“Don't overthink it, I just want to make it up to you.. so I booked a flight to Paris for tomorrow and we can do whatever.” 

You were listening but his words seemed to fall into silence as you opened the box. It was a beautiful ring. A simple but pretty one, just as you like it. 

Suddenly the thought hit you like a truck. “Wait, this isn't an engagement right?!?” Your face flushed and seriously hoped it wasn't time for that yet.

“No” his voice let out a crack of a smile. “It's just a promise right, I found your fingers weirdly missing something nowadays.. So since we aren't in a position for marriage yet, I decided on this. You don't have to wear it all the time though. And the next time I give you a ring, it will be an engagement ring.” He pressed a passionate kiss onto your lips while intertwining hour fingers.

The jewel shone on your hand with a soft glow in the dark. “Now, please don't be disappointed.. I know how important today was for you” 

“It's fine mi amor” you giggle. “I don't care if you forget a birthday, an important day, or you are just busy, what matters is that you show your love for me in a way. We can celebrate Valentine’s day on the 15th too, who said it has to be on one precise day anyway?” 

He smirked and shook his head lightly. “I love you Y/N”

“And I love you, Sae” the words barely left your lips and he picked you up anc placed you on the counter kissing you with passion but also many apologies unsaid.

Your boyfriend was never good with words, but he didn't mind showing his true intentions in many ways others wouldn't even think of.

“Oh, I made chocolate..but I kind of ate them already..in misery” he couldn't help but let a coy smile escape. “It's the thought that counts, and you can make it again later.” He rolled his eyes.

Seishiro Nagi:

For you two mornings were already noon for most people. Sure you had a little less sun to look at but it wasn't like you could just stay up at night and play games together. 

As you awoke the sound of late snow hit your ears. It sounded like some serious snow storm in February. 

You leaned over your boyfriend and checked the time on your phone. 11:34am. That's still so early. Waking up this soon was pointless but it's not like you paid more attention to it. You furrowed your brows  due to the bright life emitted from your screen and saw that today was February 14th. That means only one thing.

Valentine’s day. As much as you enjoyed the quality time it was more or less a hassle. But also you made it your virtue to make homemade chocolates to Sei every 14th of February. Just for his sake.

Therefore you climbed out of the grasp of the tall figure and rushed to the kitchen after getting yourself into something cozier. 

Your sloth loved homemade chocolates. Technically he loved your chocolates. He said the creamy texture and the milky aftertaste were just like what he’d buy at the store just better. 

Sometimes you didn't understand much of his reasoning but regardless you went along with it. 

After an hour he woke up to the fresh smell of chocolate. He slowly walked to the kitchen and tilted his head in inquiry. “What are you doing?” “Happy Valentine's day love!” “Ah.. so that's the occasion, thank you.. you too” he yawned lazily.

The white haired man walked behind you and burrowed his face into your neck as he held onto you for support. His tired body weighing onto you. You giggled. “Sei~ your hair tickles!” You could help but laugh more as he kept nuzzling into you. 

“Wanna have a bite?” You smiled and raised a small heart shaped chocolate to his mouth. “Aah” he opened his mouth and lazily bit it. 

His usually tired face showed sparkling eyes and an expression that yearned for more. He never had much of a sweet tooth so when he first tasted your sweets he thought they’d be all sugary, but this was more suited to his tastes with a slight bitterness in it. 

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly. “Yummy” “Me or the chocolates” 

His lips twitched into a smirk and kissed you again turning you to face him finally. “Both” he said and connected your lips again. 

“Wanna play Valorant with me?” “I’m gonna die first aren't I?” You giggled but nodded anyway. The second you wrapped the sweets into a small bag and placed them in the fridge you went after him to boot your computer. 

Later it was time to play your favorite games, which were more on the chill side. Not only did you play animal crossing but also persuaded him to play Genshin Impact with you which he often refuses to. 

Not because he doesn't like it, it's more like because unless it's some farming for your favorite characters he wasn't really needed.

As the snow quieted down and the stars appeared in the night sky, the main part of your date just continued.

Nor you nor him has ever said this would be a date but don't you call a date a well spent quality time? Then you were doing the exact definition of a date. 

Sure anyone could start an argument over this but with your interests aligning so closely it wasn't a matter of uncertainty whether or not this would count as a date or not.

The rest of your days always went by the same way except that he did make sure to thank you for those pretty and tasty chocolates.

Michael Kaiser:     

/small piece of info: since he is german he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/   

He was never into love, not to mention Valentine’s day. He also didn’t really understand why someone would love their partner more on a specific day instead of just showing it every day.

That was before he met you. He still thought you deserve to be loved every single second but he understood the value of such a special day. Well at least he kind of knew it’s important to you so he went along with it. 

He spent the entirety of last week thinking what he could do for you. His girl never asked for anything. As far as he knew you never even asked for much. What you did need he bought that anyway so he was in a pickle on what to do.

And there he was. Late with ideas. The awaited day came and he still hadn’t thought of anything. He really tried though. Suddenly he picked you up as you were making him chocolates. “Want to go somewhere?” You tilted your head a little. “The weather forecast said it’d rain soon.” 

“We can still go out, maybe just stay in the car?” You chuckled. “I know you’ve been stressed out because of today but come on, we can just stay at home watch a movie, chat, and I also tried out a new recipe for chocolates which means we can eat that.” “My nutritionist will murder me, but sure if that’s what you want” He mumbled and pulled you more into his embrace. 

“You can pick a movie” You shrug. “Any? Even horror?” He grinned. “Hey, I want to have a good time too.” ‘It’s not like you’d be focusing much on the screen Micha.’ 

People often say he’s as hard to read as understanding cave drawings but to you, Michael Kaiser’s unsaid words just glowed through his expressions. He could make a frowny face and you’d still be confident he was happy with something.

“Stop teasing.” You shook your head with a giggle. As soon as the chocolates were all done he got the first bite. “That’s so good Micha” A soft smile draped across his face. His loving gaze concentrated on ust the woman ahead. He wouldn’t admit, but he was falling deeper and deeper every second he spent with you.

A love he never experienced or saw just barged in on him. The locked iron door was kicked down without even a struggle. The secrets and hardships he never opened up about, all those deep cuts were exposed to you all of a sudden. He just found himself wanting to spend every existing minute with you. The love of his life. 

All those deep scars he tried burying oh so well just resurfaced. And you tried patching them up properly. As if an insecure little girl, who tried covering her pimples with layers upon layers of foundation but only making it worse. You were there and stopped his hands before grabbing the blender again.

There was something special about you. Something no woman could ever replace. Yes you had flaws, just like him. But to him that never meant less perfection. Only more things to work on.

Rin Itoshi:

/traditional Japanese styled valentine’s +reader unable to cook :)/ 

As he got home from his hour-long run the sudden aroma of burnt chocolate made its way to him. “I’m home-” His voice was full of concern but he still headed to the kitchen. “Welcome home Rin!!” You smiled. 

His gaze drifted to the counter. There was one batch of burnt chocolate in heart shapes and you were making another one now. “You don’t have to do this you know…” He inspected the burnt chocolates. Not only did they crumble at his touch but they also seemed genuinely uneatable. Not that he’d want to taste that. “I don’t want to hurt you but, I don’t think this is how they’re made.” 

You pouted and looked at him. “Hey I know I messed those up but this will be better!” You were stubborn. Once you set your mind to something you will go through with it regardless. He knew backing off wasn’t in the cards. “I’ll help you after I showered and changed.” 

“No need, I want to do this for you!” “Yeah, you either do it half-successfully and burn the kitchen down or I help you and they will be potentially digestible.”

“Stop being mean to me” you whined as he just walked out with a chuckle. After about 10 minutes he was back.

He wore a comfortable blue shirt with black sweatpants. His hair was all messy and his face had a smudge of toothpaste on it.

You giggled at his sight. “What?” He scoffed. “Lean down.” To your command he looked at you suspiciously but he obeyed. 

Doon the toothpaste was wiped down. You also made sure his hair is fine. “Have you even looked in the mirror?” “I did- but I was in a hurry” “aww you missed me that much?” “No, I was afraid you’d burn the kitchen down.” 

“See, you are mean again.” Regardless of his words he started helping you and making sure you two didn't leave the chocolate on the fire for long. 

The chocolates weren't only pretty this time but they were also so tasty. You filled some with jam that your grandma uses often. 

You were now sitting by the couch cuddling while some boring show was playing in front of you. That neither of you was interested in.

This is how a regular Valentine's day goes for Rin and you. Nothing much happening but what does, has lots of sentimental value. 

The sun slowly made it's way down the horizon as you two were still playing around by the window. 

You both needed nothing more. Just chocolates and the soft silence of your home.

Reo Mikage: 

/piece of info: he doesn’t really follow japanese customs/

The man knew your needs by heart. Not only would he make sure every February 14th is enjoyable for you but he would also make sure every time a new experience can be written into your diary that you always thought you kept well hidden from him. 

Reo did love you every day. He did show how much he treasured you each moment but he also knew that these special occasions have a sentimental value that he can't just ignore. So instead he tries making the most of it. Every single time.

He already had a hotel booked and you awoke in fresh bed sheets in a homey hotel. You slowly woke up and opened your eyes. Reo was lying next to you and he was just admiring you. “Why are you staring so much?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. You just woke up and you probably looked like a giant mess. “Because you’re pretty. So pretty.” The purple haired man smirked. 

You were doing your makeup when he finally arrived from downstairs to order your breakfast to be this luxurious one. Not like you ever asked for such. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my queen.” Reo leaned down and kissed your lips. 

“Mmm, cherry.” “I just put that on.” You pretended to pout but then out of nowhere he handed you a giant bouquet of flowers. “Flowers for the pretty woman. My pretty woman.”  Pink carnations rose up from all the little white flowers. It was filled with pinks and deep purples with also little white flowers here and there. Peonies decorated the bouquet to give it a gentle and majestic look. The latter being there for the soft transition.

Lilies swayed on the edges as you held the soft purple paper it was wrapped in. There was a note to be seen with small white petals painted on it.

‘To my queen who I have to thank for a lot. You lit my world up thousands of times when I was at my worst. Thank you for always reminding me you are here less than in an arm’s reach. I want to show my utmost love to you every second of every day. I’ll never leave you and you cannot either. I love you Beautiful.'

Tears swelled up into your eyes as you read his confession. And that wasn’t even a florist’s handwriting. It was his very own. 

Not only does this man spend so much time and money on you he also makes sure it doesn’t all come from his wealth. Not only do his presents have sentimental value but also it shows that he cares. He cares for you deeply.

“Reo~” You whined trying to hold your tears back. “I just did my mascara too” You whined as you tried drying off your tears. Not that right now that was the most important. You just didn’t know what to do or say to him. 

It was as if words and letters and voices couldn’t convey your true feelings. As if this moment can’t possibly be written. Something ethereal. But also, something more than ethereal. That was his kind of love.

Meguru Bachira:

To say the least your boyfriend had a personality. The moment he woke up in your arms he turned and woke you up with sloppy kisses. “Morning Sunshine”

Your eyelids opened just slightly only to flinch at the amount of light that came through the window. Looks like spring was coming very soon as even the sunrays decided to interrupt your sweet dreams. “Morning Meguru~” your slightly crooked morning voice barely made it out. 

“Happy Valentine's day!!” He squealed excitedly and rolled on top of you.

After finally calming him and going about your day at one point he said he had to meet up with Isagi so you were left in the house all alone. The morning jitters also sparkled onto you as you felt more energized than ever.

But Meguru had that aura around him a lot. No matter how little sleep you got or how exhausted you were because of a long week, your boyfriend would always be there to brighten your day.

After about 4 hours he finally came back. You were making chocolate. It was half ready when the door opened. “So I know today is usually your turn and I have to give white day presents BUUT hear me out.” He grinned and gave you a bouquet of colorful flowers.

Many flowers brightened in a bunch of different colors and aesthetics. You saw red tulips, red, orange and white lilies as well as hydrangeas blooming in deep pinks. Not only was it mesmerizing to look at but the smell filled the room in minutes. 

“Thank you baby! I am so happy you thought of me” you grinned and leaned in to hug him. 

You loved how he was the partner to always confide in, he tried his best to make everyone's day, so when it came to his loved ones he didn't shy away at all. 

You put the flowers in a beautiful vase which you got from his mom last year. It was painted with flower veins strangling all over it in every direction.

Later you both wrapped the chocolates as well as little snacks and went down to the nearby park for a picnic. It has been tradition that on Valentine's day the both of you go downstairs with home cooked things and have fun.

The weather was still chilly and that's what made it more fun. It was solely you two in a friendly loneliness. Having alone time with someone was the best and you both understood that feeling well without having to speak up.

As the cold breeze hit your face you leaned more and more into Meguru’s warmth which not only warmed your body up but also his.

The gentle but earnest type of love that was so hard to find. A childlike wonder that you never grew out of.

You already knew Meguru could go overboard and he didn't miss saying “Happy Valentine's day” in every waking moment you passed each other in the house. With loud cheers and the pure happiness emitting from his mouth.

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟕: 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐘

𝐂𝐖: more blackmailing lol, minor mentions of anxiety from both aphmau and reader, reader’s dad suggests self defense with a pocket knife but he’s not serious, possible bad translation of spanish pls if anyone is fluent let me know if it's wrong lmao i only know beginner level

𝐀/𝐍: next chapter is finally out guys!! i hope the obnoxiously long word count makes up for how long it took to come out lol

𝐖𝐂: 7,300 +

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

despite your better judgment, you didn't mention a thing to your mom about gene when you got home yesterday. what were you supposed to tell her?

"oh, hey! sorry i'm late today, i went to buy cigarettes with a delinquent from school who holds the outcome of the rest of my high school career on his phone! no biggie, mom!"

yeah, that would go insanely well.

you did text aphmau about it, and she reacted exactly how you expected—reaffirming exactly why you weren't going to say anything.

aphmau: we have to tell our moms!! that's awful!!

you: no!!

you: i already know it was bad, i don't need the biggest lecture of my life and possibly being grounded on top of already knowing it was a bad idea.

you: i usually tell my mom about these things but not this time

aphmau: :(

aphmau: well we can't just let him get away with it?? what if they get us in more trouble

aphmau: that would be just as bad if the pictures got out

you: i know i know

you: i don't have a plan yet but we'll work it out.

you: sorry that's not super reassuring but

aphmau: no it's okay

aphmau: i don't want to tell my mom either

aphmau: knowing her she might pull me out to be homeschooled again

you: the good thing is we at least are with each other on this

aphmau: yeah, that's true :')

aphmau: okay, i'm going to try to forget about it and get some sleep

aphmau: good night!

you: good night aph

laurance also texted you later that night—of course—with how observant he is and how loyal he's made himself out to be you'd be shocked if he didn't ask you more about it.

laurance: hey :) how are you?

you: hii! i'm good :) 

you: how are you? did you win against o'khasis? 

you: sorry i didn't come back to see the game after school 

laurance: not gonna lie i was a little sad you weren't there :,) but it's okay

laurance: T-T and no

laurance: but i already knew we wouldn't

you: that's why you lost!! 

you: you should've believed you'd win!!! 

laurance: hey!! tell that to my teammates lol i know i'm the best

you: wow cocky much

laurance: nuh uh it's not being cocky if it's true :P

laurance: hey

laurance: can i ask a question?

you: what's up??

laurance: i just was thinking about the whole thing that happened at lunch

laurance: i know i can't tell you who to hang out with, but i genuinely really don't think you should hang out near them at all

laurance: they can be very

laurance: influencing

laurance: i know cause when i hung out with them i ended up getting into some bad stuff

you: bad stuff? 

laurance: just stuff i'm not proud of

laurance: like pressuring me into vandalizing and smoking and drinking

laurance: i thought they were cool so i didn't say no when i should've

you: i know you said you had a history with them but i had no idea 

you: they made you do that? 

laurance: technically i had a choice??

laurance: i just made the bad ones

laurance: i really regret not saying no to them sometimes

you: well i can tell you're nothing like that now laurance 

you: it was a year ago but you were also a freshman 

you: i think it's really respectable that even after that you choose to be a really good person now who makes the right decisions 

laurance: that means a lot actually, thank you.

laurance: but that's why i wanted to ask you about it

laurance: cause i know you're also nothing like them so

laurance: i just wanted to make sure they weren't like, pressuring you or trying to threaten you to do something?

...shit. you can't go around or avoid the question now. should you really lie to him about this?

you: yeah i get why you're worried now 

you: i promise i haven't been pressured into anything and if they try i'll completely drop them 

laurance: hey if something bad happened and they're making you hang out with them

laurance: everyone knows by now that you're a good friend and a good student

laurance: so don't be scared to say something

the thought is comforting, but he doesn't know that it involves one of the most influential girls in the school.

you: it's just, complicated

you: i don't want to get into it right now but i just think i can handle the issue on my own

you: for now 

laurance: i really don't like this

laurance: but if you think you're fine then i won't stop you obviously

laurance: just know that i'll trust you over anything they try to hold over your head, okay? you can always come talk to me

you can feel your heart painfully twist in your chest.

you: thank you. you're an amazing friend laurance 

you: if i need help i promise i'll let you know 

laurance: okay, if you say so

laurance: and i know i'm pretty cool B)

you: the coolest B) 

you: good night laurance! see you tomorrow 

laurance: good night :)

while laurance was pretty popular, how much clean up work on rumors could he do compared to ivy and gene's influence? not everyone would believe him, and who's to say he wouldn't be affected by the rumors for sticking up for you?

you've already been friends for a few months now, but you don't want him to suffer because of you. and who's to say he won't get tired and drop you because of it? he seems like a super loyal friend, but would he die on a hill for a girl he just met this school year?

the walk to school with aphmau was quiet. you could practically feel the anxiety looming in the air around the both of you, zapping any urge to start a conversation. you hadn't felt like this since the first day of school here, your fingertips and cheeks feeling like pins and needles while your chest felt heavy with a sense of dread.

maybe a part of you was hoping that if you simply acted like it didn't happen, everything would blow over and be dropped. after all, messing with you couldn't be that fun, right? right??

wrong.

"leave us alone." aphmau says, her voice surprisingly quite firm as she glares up at the three delinquents, who had blocked the two of you off in the empty hallway.

how did you always manage to end up alone in the hallways?

"nuh uh." zenix quips back, laughing with a teasing smile at your friend.

"aw, c'mon. after our bonding walk you're already mad at me again?" he directs his question at you, mocking fake sadness. "tell the smaller kitty that we're friends now, kitty."

"don't call either of us that!" she protests, her grip she had on your hand tightening. a quiet comfort to you, but probably mostly her.

"why not? kitty's a cute nickname. when people give you a nickname it means they have a special affection for you."

"oh, so you like us?" she sarcastically raises a thin eyebrow, lips forming in a frustrated line.

"hm," gene hums, seeming to seriously consider her question, dark eyes darting between the two of you. "you? not really. i kinda like her, though."

aphmau huffs. "then why did you go out of your way to bother us?"

"i just like messing with people. thought that was pretty obvious, no?" he scoffs. "and you two, especially you little missy, make yourselves the perfect targets."

you suppress a tense sigh.

"which is exactly why you two are skipping with us today," gene says simply with a shrug, face smug as he leans on the wall, hands shoved in his pockets.

"excuse me?" you ask incredulously.

"you heard me. let's go." he lifts himself from the wall, not opening the conversation up for any more questioning as he leisurely walks away from the classrooms.

aphmau sends you a panicked glance, amber eyes round. the trio walks ahead of you once they see you both uneasily following along, beginning to whisper among themselves when a looming tall boy nearly runs into the two of you from around the corner.

you recognize him as that aaron guy, who outside of aphmau's stories had gained an even larger reputation of getting into fights and winning. he gives you a once over, making you tap your thigh nervously before you watch his nearly black eyes dart down to aphmau.

the short girl gives a very direct "hmph!" before turning away from him, grabbing your arm, and dragging you closer to the group. her distaste for him seemingly was much larger than what she held for the shadow knights.

you glance back to see aaron watching you two walk away from him, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape in shock. truthfully, it was an amusing sight, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at his expression when his eyes dart back to yours.

his mouth snaps shut and he rolls his eyes, quickly turning away and stalking off down the hall without a single word being muttered.

gene huffs out an amused laugh. "see? that's so funny. no one but you of all people is able to look that guy in the eye. now c'mon."

you and aphmau stare at him, faces unamused.

"if not, i'm sure your friends and the rest of the school would love to see my photography skills!" he grins, raising his eyebrows challengingly.

soon you find yourself following the group down the sidewalk, with aph clinging onto your arm. you could feel her hands tremble nervously against your blazer, and every once in a while her head would dart around with a guilty look in her eye.

"if you get us into any more trouble than just skipping—" she starts, only to swiftly be cut off by the leader ahead.

"relax. you're both just going to get to know us better. we're gonna hang out and then get some coffee later. no biggie."

"you drink coffee?" aphmau questions.

"yep. dark and bitter."

"calm down, edge lord. drinking black coffee doesn't make you any cooler." you grumble, earning a tiny chuckle from both aphmau and surprisingly zenix.

"after our last little walk together and you still don't like me?" gene sighs, shaking his head and clicking his tongue.

"i can't say buying cigarettes is a fun bonding experience for me, sorry to say." you quip back.

"...you know what, fair enough, kitty. i get both of your little goody-two-shoes attitudes—well i don't really get it, but—i'll strike you both a deal." gene turns to look at the two of you as you cross the street, walking towards an older park. "if you two still don't like us after skipping today, i will never ask you two to skip class again."

"you promise?" aphmau stutters, leaning forward with hopeful eyes.

"i promise!" he concurs. "i just want you to know us outside of the rumors you've heard."

you think you'd believe laurance's "rumors" over these three's catty smirks any day.

"we're not all that bad." gene shrugs, before turning to see sasha and zenix ahead going off the path into some shrubbery.

aphmau glances up at you, before looking back to gene with a resigned sigh. "ok, fine. deal."

"great!" he grins before waving a hand towards the shrubbery. "ladies first."

you stare at him as aphmau walks forward, raising an eyebrow. "and what if this is an elaborate plan to get us alone and murder us?"

"oh, kitty, if i wanted to do something to you i would've done it when you walked home with me." he scoffs, throwing an arm around your shoulder and guiding you with him after the rest of the group.

"uh-huh." you deadpan, earning a carefree chuckle from the boy.

when the shrubs part for a clearing, you look up to see an old brick bridge for a train track. it was likely abandoned a long time ago based on the trees and plants overgrown on the top and the layers of graffiti plastered on the sides. under the bridge ran part of the large river that goes through the whole city, though this part seems to be a thinner and slower-moving part of it.

gene releases you from his arm, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks ahead a few steps.

truthfully, it was a really cool spot. you'd even hang out here alone to draw or read in your free time if you had come across it on your own. you doubt that's what the shadow knights did here, though.

suddenly, your phone buzzes, and you look down to check the notification.

kate: hey, you're not in homeroom today?

kate: you sick?

you curse under your breath, looking to aphmau who was distracted by something sasha was saying, before looking back down. your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate what to say.

you: ugh yeah sorry i didn't tell you 

you: probably just ate something bad, i'll be better by tomorrow 

kate: ohh alright then

kate: i'll see you tomorrow then, hopefully?

kate: feel better! and rest up!

you: thanks kate! i will!

guilt eats at you from the inside of your chest, screaming at you how wrong you were, how you need to tell your friends the truth.

you slide your phone back in your pocket.

"alright, you two. make our new friends here feel welcomed. they'll be joining our group here pretty soon." gene muses, holding his hands out to prompt zenix and sasha to actually talk.

"join? they said yes?" sasha raises her eyebrows, eyes shifting to aphmau and you in mild surprise.

"not yet." gene shrugs. "i'm not gonna force a good thing. they'll join on their own, but they've got to get to know us, first."

"ah, i see." sasha's eyebrows relax to rest in their usual unimpressed position.

zenix scoffs. "neither of them are hardcore enough."

"shut up, zenix."

the boy comically huffs in response and crosses his arms, like an annoyed kid who just got told off. aphmau seems pretty uneasy by his aggressive demeanor, slowly shuffling to stand closer to you again.

"i swear zenix has the same temper as that zane kid. speaking of him, why don't we let him in the group?" sasha looks over at gene.

your eyebrows furrow at her words, the middle ro'meave brother popping into your mind. he was rude to you last time, for sure, but him? in this gang of kids? the thought of it makes you feel strangely... protective over your friend's bratty younger brother.

"zane is just a poser. plus, he's no fun to play with. he was so eager to join us it made him look pathetic." gene rolls his eyes, and you can't help crossing your arms. "i'll give him until next semester to see how he does on his own, then maybe i'll think of it."

you look at aphmau, who is also looking at you with an unappeased expression on her face.

"make him work for it, huh?" sasha muses.

"what's the point of us having an exclusive group if we just let any emo kid in?"

"we're not emo, though," sasha says, dark purple fingernails ironically raking through her chopped side swoop bangs.

"not us. zane."

"oh, whoops. my bad."

gene ruins his fingers through the mess of dark curls on his head as he starts walking back where we just came from. "anyways, i'm going to get the stuff. i forgot it. keep them entertained."

"kay. hurry up." sasha says, stretching her arms out before sitting down on a soft patch of grass by the river.

the stuff?

"stuff?" you repeat, lip curling up and eyes squinting in accusation.

gene snorts. "don't worry, kitty. it's not drugs if that's what you're thinking."

he walks off, not giving any further explanation before he's gone.

"it's stuff for our art. you'll see." sasha looks over to you and aphmau, waving you both over to sit next to her as zenix stalks off closer to the bridge.

"i don't think i like the sound of that." aphmau whispers before you both settle onto the grass.

sasha turns to look at you both, a small amount of interest shines in her deep purple eyes. you want to laugh at how cliche it sounds in your head, but they really looked like someone had carved out two amethysts and stuck them into her eyes. black eyeliner lined her eyes, one side a little smudged on the corner. she managed to pull it off, somehow still looking like a little doll with her smooth porcelain skin.

"so, what kind of grades do you two get?"

"huh?" aphmau blinks.

"are you a straight-a student? average? dumb?" sasha presses.

"oh, uh..." your friend stutters, picking at her fingernails. "so far i've gotten all a's and some b's. i'm not that great at math though."

sasha hums, her eyes lazily drifting over to you.

"...pretty much all a's." you say, curiously looking back at her. why did she want to know? was she gonna try to get you to do her homework?

"cool. good to know we're not letting in anyone with bad grades."

"you mean you guys don't?" aphmau unashamedly asks, her face baffled.

sasha doesn't seem offended by this, the corner of her lip lifting. "nah."

"but you guys skip almost every day? that doesn't make any sense, i don't get how that works." she insists.

"we're not dumb. we get bad grades because we miss class and tend not to listen to the teacher, so that obviously reflects on our records. it's an attempt for the "man" to control us with these letters that we find such validation in." sasha returns.

so they do make bad grades.

"huh...? that was really a mouthful."

oh, aphmau.

"just words, sweetheart." sasha returns with a tiny smirk. "honestly, gene, zenix and i are very smart when it comes to our studies. we're just bored because nothing challenges us in academics anymore. hence why we skip class. if i'm going to be bored, i don't want to be bored in that building we call school."

"oh, i see. well, that doesn't make any sense." aphmau says.

sasha hums with a raised eyebrow, prompting her to elaborate.

"it's just... if you're so smart that you don't feel challenged, why sacrifice your good grades to do nothing? why not go the extra mile and challenge yourself by making a presentation? or writing a report on how the teachers can help you more?"

sasha quietly stares at her, expression blank—though eyes seemingly deep in thought.

"the teachers don't know everything, they're trying to figure life out, too. so if you're super bored, why not teach them back?" you add, bringing up your knees for your chin to rest on. "not caring and being lazy every once in a while is fun, but i think everyone should have a goal. otherwise you'll find yourself stuck in the same place."

"hm. i can see why gene took an interest in the both of you." sasha looks out to the river as she says this, lips pursed.

suddenly she reaches out a hand, the dark metal rings and bracelets she wore clinking together. "give me your hands."

"what, why?" aphmau asks cautiously, watching as you place your hand on the older girl's one.

"i do palm readings as a hobby. just a little thing i like to do." she says, her thumb already tracing over the lines in your hand as she brings it closer to her face.

"you're not going to do something weird are you?" aph leans back.

"just give me your stupid hand." she flicks her free hand demandingly.

aphmau goes quiet, nervously giving up one of her hands to the girl. sasha brings both of your hands side by side, pursing her lips as she compares the two.

"interesting." she says, a few moments passing before she continues. "both of you have lots of creativity. i'm not shocked by the lack of openness for feelings and emotions on your hand—" she nudges up your palm. "—but apparently aphmau is more open. which isn't a lie if we were comparing you both together... but neither of you are open. otherwise you two wouldn't be here in the first place."

you and aphmau make the same little noise of surprise.

sasha's eyebrows furrow, as she stretches out both of your hands. she focuses on yours, humming in stumped confusion as she mutters to herself. "that's weird. i haven't seen a fate line like yours. it's all... broken up. what does that mean? interesting..."

"quit holding hands with them, sasha!" zenix suddenly shouts from where he had scaled up to the top of the bridge, looking down over all three of you.

"quit being emo, zenix!" she shouts back without a second of thinking, looking up at you with an eye roll. "so glad there's girls now. he's—"

"don't tell me how to live my life!"

sasha ignores his response, looking at aphmau's palm. "your life is pretty dull. according to your palm."

"uhh..." aphmau's shoulders slump.

"i don't need a fake palm reader who learned all her lessons from the internet to tell me how to live my life!" zenix continues.

"ignore him." sasha rolls her eyes again. "he's just yelling to yell."

"i like yelling!"

"i like when you shut up!"

"come make me!" he challenges, puffing out his chest.

"kitty." sasha coos at you, batting her eyelashes. "be a dear and go shut zenix up for me? i want to relax and take a nap before gene makes you do the hazing initiation thingy."

aphmau flinches. "hazing? initiation? what initiation?!"

sasha lays down, closing her eyes and ignoring both of your protests.

"what—are you serious?" aphmau huffs, as sasha continues to ignore her words. "great. we didn't even agree to join and they're talking about an initiation. what even is the initiation?"

aphmau looks up to zenix, before her round eyes slowly drift back to you. "...can you go ask him?" she whispers.

"huh? why can't you?" you cross your arms, hushing your voice back

"because he scares me! you go talk to him!" aphmau complains back.

"i'm not gonna talk to him. you do it."

"no, you!"

"you!"

"oh! suddenly i'm feeling really sleepy..." aphmau fake yawns, lying down in the grass like sasha and closing her eyes.

"oh my—whatever! he's not even scary, you baby!" you quietly shout, standing up with a huff and ignoring the quiet snickers from sasha.

you turn to march over to the bridge, looking up to the top where zenix was kicking stray rocks into the river. "um, zenix?"

"what do you want?" he looks down at you, eyes narrowing. "did sasha get you to do her dirty work for her already? of course you'd listen to her." he snorts.

"no. i was just wondering what this initiation thing was about?"

"i can't spoil the surprise." he grins, and you deadpan. "just know that if you do it, you'll be super hardcore in my book."

"right, because i'm so desperate for your approval." you raise your eyebrows, resting a hand on your hip. "what, skipping class isn't hardcore enough for you?"

zenix huffs, flustering rather immediately at your words as he turns to kick a rock rather harshly into the water. "skipping class isn't hard. it's whatever."

"why are you so huffy and angry?"

"why are you so calm and happy?"

you shrug. "cause it's better."

"says who?" he quips, tilting his head at you in a challenge.

"says me."

"well aren't you important." he sarcastically huffs.

"so are you."

he looks down at you with a strange look.

"yeah? says who?"

"says me."

the shrubbery rustles and leaves crunch, signaling gene was back from wherever he had gone off to.

"looks like you all are getting along well." he says.

"she's weird," zenix says, still looking at you with a confused expression.

"well we like weirdos, don't we?" gene raises an eyebrow with an amused chuckle.

"...i guess," zenix says, walking along the bridge to find a way down.

"you two, come here," gene says, the bag in his hand rustling as he waves you and aphmau over.

"so," he starts when you're both standing in front of him. "how do you like our group so far?"

you glance at aphmau, before speaking up first. "you guys are fine, but we aren't into the whole skipping school and breaking the rules thing."

gene raises an eyebrow, looking over to aphmau when she pipes up.

"yeah, we're not interested in joining. i just want to finish this day of skipping and leave."

he hums quietly, looking off in thought. "...alright. i'll let you two go."

"really?" aphmau eagerly says, eyes wide and hopeful. "and you'll delete the pictures?"

"who said anything about deleting the pictures?" gene shoots down the second request in a heartbeat, snorting in amusement. "i'm keeping them, i just won't make you two skip school again, is all."

aphmau scoffs in displeasure.

"now now, no need to get too worked up." gene tsks, waving the bag in front of you two. "there's still something else i need you both to do for me before i let you go."

"what is it?" aphmau huffs, crossing her arms.

"you're going to tag a wall with the shadow knights logo."

"what?!" she squeaks, jaw dropping in horror, and you feel your face drop.

"you heard me." gene snickers watching your eyes drift to the hidden bridge that had a ton of graffiti on it already.

"no no. not there." gene smirks, nodding his head for you two to follow him.

your group walks back to the more polished part of the path, where gene points to a clean concrete wall that would most definitely be seen by people going by on their walks.

"here." he grins, gesturing to the wall.

"no way!" aphmau stutters, stepping closer to you with that same horrified look on her face.

"we're not criminals. that's illegal." you say, glaring up at gene who merely widens his smile, leaning down by his torso and tilting his head at you.

"you're a criminal as long as you're mine."

you wrinkle your nose. "you don't own me or aph just cause you have those pictures."

"oh? then i'm sure garroth and the rest of your friends would love to see said pictures of the school's precious sweet ivy getting the shit beat out of her by two rando new girls." he shrugs, straightening his back and dangling the bag in front of him. "it's up to you..."

you snap your mouth shut, before yanking the bag from his hands. "just shut up."

gene ooh's in amusement, stepping aside with a smirk as he watches you march to the wall, crouching near the bag as you drop it and pulling out the spray paints from inside.

"...if i do this, does it mean i'm part of your group?" aphmau nervously asks from behind you.

"nope, it just means that you're doing the work of tagging this place for me. plus, if you do this one time, i'll never ask you to tag this place for me again."

"tag any place." you interject, looking back to send a harsh glare at him.

gene looks you up and down, before quietly chuckling and raising his arms. "any place." he concedes.

"okay, fine." aphmau shakily agrees, coming up beside you to help.

you've never spray painted before, and neither had aphmau, but surprisingly the logo ended up looking pretty good. if it was done in a place you were allowed to tag and not vandalizing, you'd probably be proud of it.

but you were vandalizing, and you felt the opposite of pride as you and aphmau backed up from the wall, smelling like spray paint as some of it dripped from your fingers.

"not bad." gene grins, hands on his hips as he observes your handiwork.

"looks pretty great." sasha's voice pipes up, she and zenix appearing behind you two.

zenix crosses his arms as he analyzes the logo. "...maybe you two are hardcore enough." he admits.

"you're both free to go home now. we're gonna go to the coffee shop down the road if you two want to join us." gene says, snagging up the bag and cans to likely use later.

you and aphmau shake your head no at the same time.

"no thanks..." she stutters quietly.

gene shrugs, leading his two accomplices along the sidewalk. "suit yourselves. let's go."

you and aphmau silently watch as the group leaves, glancing back at the graffiti you both did with dejected looks on your faces. aphmau suddenly snatches up your hand, quickly walking away.

"i don't wanna be caught next to that." she mutters and you agree, keeping in pace with her if not speeding up.

you both walk in silence for a bit longer before you feel aphmau's hand tighten on yours and hear a quiet sniff. glancing over in surprise you see her round eyes filled with tears, her nose red as she looks away from you.

"i'm sorry i'm crying, i just feel so awful that we did that and so mad too..." she stops talking when her voice shakes a bit, burying her face in her hand with another sniffle.

"me too..."

your nose tingles as you rapidly blink to make your own urge to cry go away, breathing in a frustrated sigh. suddenly your feet stop on the sidewalk and you're tugging onto aphmau's hand, bringing her in for a hug.

"it's gonna be okay." you reassure when she hugs you back. "i'm sorry i let it get this far—"

"it's my fault, too." she interrupts.

"—we can go back and clean off the paint tonight. then we'll tell gene we're done with him and deal with the consequences." you finish, patting her back and pulling away from the hug. "we shouldn't let people like him make us cry, right?"

she looks up at you, blinking away the mistiness in her eyes and gulping down her urge to cry as she nods. "yeah! we can go clean it! that's a good idea. then no more shadow knights and... we can deal with the rest later."

you smile at the optimistic look in her eyes, patting her shoulders as you both continue to walk home.

☆

cleaning concrete without a pressure washer or at the very least a strong hose is extremely hard. you honestly wouldn't force a prisoner to do this as work.

you and aphmau had been at it for ten minutes already, and you'd barely even scrubbed off a layer of the graffiti.

"dang it. i should've brought paint thinner." you groan when your hand slips and you scrape your finger against the rough surface. "this sucks."

"we're gonna be here all night," aphmau whines, focusing in on one spot and groaning when there's no difference under the sponge. "but we have to get it off. this is horrible."

you hear quiet footsteps nearby, and before you can react to it a bright light shines over the two of you, blinding the two of you.

"hey!" a man's voice calls out, the tone so stern and aggressive that you knock over the soapy water bucket and drop your sponge with a gasp.

"uh!" aphmau startles, before she realizes who it is, her words tumbling out of her mouth. "oh, officer! we—"

"we've been looking for the kids who've been tagging this place with that logo." he cuts her off, tone completely accusatory.

to be fair, you both decided on wearing black hoodies and sweatpants, making you look much more suspicious than you already did. but didn't he see the sponges and literal soap bucket next to your feet?

"wait! that's not how this happened! we didn't—"

"save it! the criminals always return to the scene of the crime. come on, you're both coming with me." he says, pacing over to you both and snatching you both by the arms, likely thinking you'd both run away.

you find yourself at a loss for words, mouth gaping and eyes filling with tears as you're dragged along with the cop. you couldn't even defend yourself, completely in shock that you were getting in trouble in the first place.

being in the back of a cop car on a tuesday night was never a possibility in your mind. yet here you are, at the ripe age of sixteen, being escorted to your parents on a school night.

aphmau hasn't stopped sniffling, the only thing keeping her from bawling her eyes out was likely the fact that you were in this with her.

to aphmau's relief and to your chagrin, the cop stops at your house first, marching you right up the sidewalk to your door and knocking, looking down at you like you had kicked a puppy and laughed. you knew nothing would change this guy's mind, so you merely watch your front door and hope it was your mom who opened it.

it wasn't, and dread fills every fiber of your being when your dad's figure stands in the open doorway. he looks at the officer in confusion, then down to you, his eyes blown wide open. his jaw clenches as he whips his head to the staircase where you were supposed to have retired for the night, before looking back at you with an immense amount of disappointment.

you shrink in on yourself when he doesn't say a word to you, turning to look at the officer who greets him. eyes drift and zone out on the floor as the officer explains why he's here, only to be startled by dad's deep voice.

"do you have any proof?" he asks, stopping the officer in his tracks.

"i... sorry?"

"do. you. have. any. proof? or do you like throwing around little girls into your car for a little power trip instead of catching actual criminals?" your dad grits, making you lean back against the doorway.

"that is not—sir, i—" the officer stutters, taken aback by the sudden accusation.

"let's talk." your dad yanks you inside as he steps outside next to the officer and shuts the door.

oh shit.

you hear a call of your name and turn to see your mom staring at you in confusion, her arms crossed over her robe.

"um..." you start, looking to the ground in shame.

"was that an officer?" she asks, eyes wide as she shuffles over to you.

immediately you burst out crying, leaning in to hug her while every emotion you had kept in about the situation tumbled out in fat tears that dripped down your face.

"i'm sorry! i didn't mean to do anything wrong!" you hiccup as mom shushes you, wrapping her arms around you and rubbing your back.

"just take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

and you do. from what you told her about ivy to the things she didn't know about gene, from the pictures to the gas station and the vandalism. the disappointed look on her face stings as you talk, but at least she was listening. with how distressed you were behaving and the fact you had never done anything like this before, mom clearly was open to hearing your side of the story on this.

as you finish your spill and calm down from your hysterics, the front door opens. aphmau comes in first looking uneasy, with your dad following behind.

"call sylvanna to come over here." he says, huffing and giving you a stern look as aphmau sits next to you on the couch.

"...what did you tell the cop?" you ask, eyebrows pinched together as you glance at the window to see the cop car not even parked in your driveway anymore.

he huffs. "don't worry about it."

...that's incredibly unsettling.

mom makes the call as you two wait in tense silence on the couch, and it's probably only a minute later tops that all hell breaks loose.

"¡aphmau!" sylvanna bursts through the door, hair a mess and pajamas crooked as she hops on one foot, sliding her flip flop off of her foot. "¡te juro que si estuvieras besando a un chico te golpearía con mi chancla tan fuerte que volarías hasta el año que viene!"

aphmau squeaks, shrinking into you like she was planning on using you as a shield.

"sylvanna, calm down. while what they did was disappointing, they weren't rebelling against us or being deceitful." mom says, interrupting sylvanna's heated rant and placing a hand on her shoulder. "actually, let me explain it to you in the kitchen."

aphmau sighs in relief as both of the moms and your dad go into the kitchen, voices quiet and hushed.

"she is so terrifying." she whispers to you, staring at the coffee table and tapping on her leg. "this day has been the worst."

"yeah..." you sigh, wringing your hands together. "i wonder how much trouble we'll be in when they're done talking about it."

"i don't want to be grounded." aphmau groans.

"me neither."

more tense silence passes, hushed voices barely heard from the kitchen before they all return to the living room.

sylvanna steps forward, arms crossed. "mija."

aphmau tenses. "yes ma'am?"

"i am," she inhales. "very disappointed that you didn't tell me about this when it was happening—"

the girl's head drops.

"—but. you did try to fix your mistake. and for that... i'm proud. pero si esto vuelve a ocurrir te juro que estarás castigado hasta el día de tu muerte. there will be no next time!"

aphmau cringes, before nodding. "yes ma'am..."

the two soon are out the door and on their walk home, seeming as it had already transitioned from late tuesday hours to the early hours of wednesday.

after a good talking to from both of your parents and truthfully some more crying on your end, you found yourself lying on your bedroom carpet, arms spread out as you tapped your feet on the ground.

it was just difficult to sleep now, your mind racing with what to do when gene will inevitably confront you again. your phone buzzes.

aph: are you still up ;-;

you: yeah, can't sleep 

aph: me neither...

aph: i'm so glad my mom didn't overreact

aph: i was sure i was a goner

you: yeahhh 

you: good thing my mom talked her down 

aph: yeah she's a life saver

aph: speaking of which i think both of them are talking to zianna on the phone right now about everything

you: what!! 

you: oh no i really hope garroth doesn't overhear the details or anything if they're talking loud 

you get halfway up from your floor, crawling over to your door and pressing your ear against it, straining to listen while glancing down at your phone again.

aph: oh crap i didn't think about that!

aph: hopefully not

aph: if he hears it from his mom i think he'd take it well, but that's still kinda awkward

you: yeah no kidding

you: then he'd probably tell the rest of our friends too

you: which wouldn't be the worst if they believed us

aph: yeah

aph: surely they would

aph: right???

you: i think they would 

you: the thought of drama with ivy veleno being public knowledge in the school makes my stomach hurt though 

aph: ugh i know me too

aph: i guess our faces look extra victimy to the bad kids

aph: because why are all of them out for us

aph: literally what did we do T-T

you: that's what i'm saying!! like since day one 

the conversation outside of the door is too muffled, so you slowly crack open your door and crawl towards the staircase to get a better listen.

"i swear if any boy puts a hand on either of my girls i'll go up to that school myself so help me!" you hear zianna shout over the phone.

"he didn't put his hands on either of them or trust me my husband would be in jail right now for murdering that little boy." mom says.

"i would be too!" sylvanna shouts, sounding the most heated of the three.

you: omg did you hear that??

aph: yeah

aph: we're zianna's girls ;p

you: and your mom is completely down with murder it seems

aph: i feel like we knew that already though

"oh, that just makes me so mad! they're so sweet and innocent, they shouldn't be having to deal with that punk ass kid! i swear i'll murder him too!" zianna huffs.

you: zianna cusses?? hahaha

aph: out of our three moms she seems the least likely lol

"well all i know is that if i find out either of them, especially my mija was covering up the fact that she was smooching with some boy i swear!!!" sylvanna gripes.

"i know when my daughter is lying and she would've told me if something like that happened. and i know you know aphmau was telling us the truth, too." mom sighs.

sylvanna sighs loudly. "yeah, you're right. i just worry about her!"

you: your mom is still stuck on the boy thing?

aph: yeah :/ she's kinda crazy about that stuff

you: my mom is protective over that kinda stuff too

you: but geez

aph: i know right?

you flinch as the door across from you opens, revealing your dad from behind it. he stops when he sees you hunched by the stairs, raising his eyebrows at your behavior.

"what're you doin', kiddo?" he asks, taking a step forward and sighing when he faintly hears your mom on speakerphone.

"...i couldn't sleep." you whisper back, clutching your phone to your chest.

he sighs again, pointing to your bedroom door. "well, sitting at the top of the stairs on your phone won't help. go to sleep."

"...okay..." you mutter, getting up and staring at the floor as you scurry back to your room.

a gruff call of your name stops you, and you turn back to see dad's contemplative face.

"and put away that phone."

"yes sir..."

"and..."

you stare at him, rocking on your feet. "...yeah?"

"...i put a pocket knife in your backpack."

"wha—" you guffaw. "dad, i can't bring a knife to school?!"

"says who?"

"oh my—says me! dad, that's illegal!"

he huffs. "not if no one knows."

"i just got in trouble for illegal stuff now you're encouraging me to stab people?"

"just one, possibly."

"dad, i am not taking a knife or weapon of any kind to my tenth-grade english class that is insane."

"i did it when i was picked on."

"you stabbed someone?" you ask in horror.

"no... but the threat worked well enough."

"okay well, i am a lot more likely to go to jail for that now than when you were a kid."

he sighs. "alright. but i won't be mad if i get a call from the school saying you kicked that boy in his balls."

"okay, dad! i'm going to sleep now." you back up, eyebrows raised.

dad's hardened eyes soften to amusement as he chuckles. "goodnight, baby girl. i love you."

"love you too, dad."

you shut the door behind you with a sigh.

you: got caught eavesdropping

you: gonna go to sleep before i get in more trouble

you: and before my dad suggests another torture method or weapon to use on gene

aph: your dad is so scary

aph: that seems like something he'd suggest

aph: and good night!

you: haha well he was just kidding

you: i think

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[mcu-hoes]

[illicitlimerence-writes]

secret keeper | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x driver!teammate!reader word count: 2.1k words (i really wanted all of these to be short lol sorry) request: don’t think so! prompt: doing secret santa ⎯ “just tell me who got me.” from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: kinda crack!fic, idk. language, really fluffy, seb being great, special appearance by the spanish speaking gang (i had to). reader speaks spanish in this. a/n: here’s day 2! i hope you like it, pls let me know what you think! reminder that my requests are closed.

my masterlist

(you'll know why i chose this gif later lol)

doing secret santa was the most exciting part of the year for her. it was something so silly and it made her so happy, the thought of having someone actually think deep about what they felt she’d really enjoy was a thrilling one.

something she didn’t quite like about secret santa was that first part. the secret. whilst she did like surprises, and there were only a few limited options as to who might give her something, the anticipation was too much for her. 

her teammate, mick, had made a bet with himself, to see how long it’d take her to either figure out or start interrogating everyone until they told her who her secret santa was. at first he gave it ten minutes, but he laughed to himself as he watched her.

they were doing the standard start-of-year interviews, the drivers’ goals and predictions, and the secret santa name draw. mick had already finished his, and was waiting for her so they could go and have lunch together. normally they’d wait longer to do the name draw, but last year the organizers had left it till the last minute, and they didn’t want to risk it this time. plus, they’d have a whole season ahead of them to think really well about the gift.

“okay, (y/n), i’ve got this santa hat here-” the interviewer said, showing her the hat.

“ooh, christmas in march, i like it!” she laughed.

“and in here there’s the names of the other drivers available for the gift exchange,” she nodded at the interviewer.

“i like that we’re doing this right at the start of the season,” she chuckled, grabbing the hat by the white fluff, the pom pom hanging down, “but i can assure you, more than one person will wait until the day before to get their gift,” the people around her laughed, mick did, too. “why are you laughing? did you feel called out?” she asked mick, raising an eyebrow. a camera panned to him, shaking his head at her.

“i already know what i’m going to get,”

“ooh, tell me, tell me!” she rushed to him, moving her hair away from her ear. he leaned in, presing his lips close to her ear.

“no.”

she rolled her eyes, slapping the back of his head. 

“did you get seb?” she asked walking back to the spot where she was supposed to be, where all the cameras were ready to record her. she hadn’t arrived in time to see his secret santa segment, so she’d have to find out another way.

“i’m not going to tell you!” he laughed, as the interviewer shook her head.

“you’re not supposed to tell each other, or anyone,” she clarified. 

“ugh, fine.” she laughed, “sorry,” she apologized, and placed her hand in, “wait, then he should leave! or he’ll know who i get,” she pointed an accusatory finger at him. “what if i get him?”

“someone else already got mick,” the interviewer clarified, and her shoulders slumped a little, it wasn’t a lie that the two of them were the closest friends and teammates, but she wouldn’t let that discourage her. 

“dang it, what am i going to do with all those treats i got for angie, then?” she teased, mick laughed. “so sorry, i know this is taking way longer than it should’ve. i promise i’ll focus now.” she nodded, “you can stay, just promise not to tell anyone,” she told mick, who pretended to zip his lips together.

she ran her fingers through all the folded pieces of paper, finally picking one that called to her. she unfolded it, her eyes opening wide as she read. 

“hell yes!” she skipped from one foot to the other, jumping in excitement, “i got seb!” she declared happily, showing the paper to everyone. “ha-ha!” she mocked mick, who only rolled his eyes as he laughed. the two of them were the best of friends. they grew up together, and had been teammates since they were in f3, somehow they always found their way back to each other. suddenly her eyes snapped open, “did you get me?” she gasped. mick shook his head. “did he get me?” she asked the rest of the crew behind the cameras, who only laughed at her eagerness, but didn’t answer. “fine, if you could just tell whoever got me that my favorite color is blue, that would be great, thanks!”

-

months passed and as the end of season approached, her relentlessness to know who her secret santa was came back with as much as before. this time, mick wasn’t her only victim.

it started in mexico city, when she was walking alongside charles and lando, and someone from charles’ team approached him.

“hey, charles, just to remind you that the deadline for the secret santa gift is in brazil.” he said, leaving them after that.

“you haven’t turned in your gift?” she asked, she’d done it the week before, when she was finally done packing the perfect gift for sebastian. her mentor. 

“i honestly forgot about it,” he said, lando laughed, drinking from his water bottle. something shifted in her eyes as an idea popped in her head.

“well, i could help you!” she offered, blinking slowly to gain his attention.

“really?” he asked, feeling like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders, “thanks i honestly didn’t know what to get-” he was about to say the name of his secret santa, but lando elbowed him on the ribs.

“you can’t say it!” he scolded him, chuckling at her enraged face.

“lando you ass! he was about to tell me!” she grunted, grabbing charles’ face and directing his eyes to her. “tell me charles, who’s your secret santa?”

“no! i can’t say,” he shook his head, feeling something in the pit of his stomach as her eyes narrowed. 

“did you get me? do you know who got me?” she asked, shaking his shoulders dramatically. lando laughed, charles was trying his hardest to keep a straight face. 

“no, and no!” he said, she grunted, and moved on to lando.

“do you know, norris?” she asked.

“no. i don’t know. and i didn’t get you.”

“you didn’t?” she asked, at least if he denied it she could tick him off his list.

“i don’t know,” he said, shrugging and smiling sheepishly. 

she punched his shoulder and walked away, both drivers hurried after her. 

-

finally, in abu dhabi things got a little bit sweeter. the dinner to honor sebastian was a perfect opportunity for her to really tick people off her list of suspects, up until that point the only person off her list was herself. she hadn’t made that much progress. she had to be smart about it, she couldn’t just straight up ask someone about it, much less if her friends were listening to her.

thankfully, as they were about to leave and were all gathering to take a picture, they all started talking about their agendas for the next day.

“i’m doing the secret santa thing early tomorrow, thankfully,” she heard fernando say, in spanish, he was talking to the other spanish-speakers of the grid. she thanked the stars for her stubbornness, and her parents for listening to her when she said she wanted to learn as many languages as she could. spanish, of course, french, italian, english, and german. this was her shot, and if she were alone, she would’ve grinned like the grinch. she approached them, slowly, and listened to them. “after that i’m completely free.”

“free of what?” she popped in.

“media duties,” he explained, smiling.

“ugh, i’m busy all day. i think they left my secret santa segment for last.”

“well, of course, everyone knows how much you love that thing,” checo said.

“that’s true, i know,” she chuckled. “did you guys struggle to get your gift?”

“not really, mine is an inside joke with max,” checo shrugged, the name slipping from his lips without him noticing.

“aw that’s nice,” she smiled, feeling carlos looking at her.

“i’m not going to tell you who i got.”

“why? did you get me?” she tried, but carlos shook his head.

“i don’t mind, if it will help you sleep better. i didn’t get you,” fernando admitted, she looked at him gratefully.

“see, carlos? that’s what a good friend does!” she pointed at fernando, “thank you.”

mick called her name, she excused herself and walked to him, feeling his arm around her shoulders. 

“what are you doing?” he asked accusatorily. 

“we can tick checo and fernando off my list,” she gave him a smug smile, clearly content with her work for the night.

“you’re just not letting this go are you?” he asked, amused at her stubbornness, it didn’t surprise him, he knew her like the back of his hand, but it was still nice to see her trying her hardest to figure this out.

“this all can end if you just tell me who got me.” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder as everyone else gathered around, getting ready for the group picture. 

“you’ll know tomorrow. don’t worry.” he reassured her. she sighed.

-

the next day, mick and (y/n) were like two kids, she’d wanted to watch seb open the present she got him, and had convinced mick to help her make it happen in a way that wouldn’t be so obvious. it didn’t take that much to find a way to stay and watch seb.

they just found him as they walked pass, and asked if they could stay. the lady in charge of all of the f1 media just asked them to stay quiet.

“oh, this is very nice,” seb smiled as he took out the first present, “didn’t we have like $30 limit?” he chuckled, (y/n) and mick laughed too. the last gift was a dead giveaway, a picture of her, mick, and seb. when the two young drivers were just kids, barely starting karting against each other. it was from the first time they met sebastian in a “professional” environment. “oh, well, i think i know who this is from,” he grinned, his eyes darting to the two of them, with mick confused and (y/n) with a big smile on her face. he showed the picture to the camera, a different camera panning to the two haas drivers. “judging by their faces i’d say this is from (y/n),” he guessed. 

she nodded her head, and walked to him when he opened his arms for her. they hugged each other, she was going to miss him so much. he’d always been there for her. all throughout her career and her personal life. she looked up to him, admired him and everything he worked for, what he stood for. 

“thank you, dear, i loved all of my gifts,” she smiled, proud of herself. 

“thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” 

-

after an excruciatingly long day, it was her turn to film her secret santa section.

“i really hope you add a special montage of every time i’ve risked my life, and others’, trying to figure out who got me in this gift exchange,” she only half-joked, but it helped ease the mood with everyone around. mick, as usual, was sitting next to her, on the other side of the cameras.

“we’ll make sure of it,” the f1 producer nodded, making a mental note to check all the footage. once the cameras started rolling officially, she got her signature smile on, “(y/n), welcome to the 2022 f1 secret santa. i know this is something you’ve been looking forward all year long,” she nodded her head, “i won’t make you wait much longer so, here you go,” she was handed a small box, and her first instinct was to shake it to see if it made any noise.

“i hear a faint jingling.” she said, unwrapping the blue ribbon around the black box. “it’s blue! thanks santa!” she smiled, remembering the comment she’d made about her favorite color. “oh, whoa-” her eyes widened as she saw the gift. it was a necklace, with the outline of a track hanging in the middle. “it’s spa!” she giggled, recognizing the twists and turns. “oh my god, this is so nice, i-” her eyes widened as she stared at it, a light flush had creeped its way up to her cheeks. “oh, gosh, i-” she was at a loss for words, she was expecting maybe a gift that was partly a joke, or something small. this was too much. “i don’t think i can accept this.”

“do you have any clue as to who it might be?” they asked her, she was still too shocked to think.

“no. well, i mean the only person that pops in my head that might be this thoughtful is either mick or seb, but i guess maybe charles, too? i know he’s sponsored by a jewelry company,”

“you’re so close,” they told her. 

“pierre?” she guessed, it didn’t really make sense, he didn’t know that spa was her favorite track, well, to her knowledge.

“not quite,” she sighed.

“i don’t know. i-” she turned her head, seeing mick looking at her, throughout the entire time he could feel his eyes on her, it wasn’t anything different. but she saw a faint blush on his cheeks, his ears. “oh my god. no. are you shitting me?” she asked him, directly, not even looking at the cameras. “it was you? it’s been you this entire time?” she asked. and mick couldn’t hide it anymore, he smiled, nodding. “mick!” she ran to him, he stood up as she approached him and she jumped in his arms. “thank you, i love it,” she said.

“i’m glad you liked it,” he said, suddenly becoming shy under all of the stares.

once she returned to her spot, she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. her fingers were playing with the chain that now hung from her neck. 

“how’d you know it was mick?” they asked her.

“well, not many people know that my favorite track is spa. i mean, they probably wouldn’t think it is given my bad luck there,” she said, referring to the fiasco last year and her dnf of that year after having a great race. “and he blushes a lot,” she added, chuckling. 

they hurried the rest of the video, as she thanked him once more, this time in front of the cameras. 

-

“i should’ve known,” she said as she shook her head. “i knew there was a reason you weren’t telling me.”

“ah, well, i had to keep the secret,” he chuckled. 

“i really love this, mick, thank you. you really didn’t have to get me something so…”

“oh, you’ll just have to wait and see what i’ve got in store for christmas,” he smiled, leaving her stunned there as he kept walking.

“what do you mean? you got my gift already?!” she asked, rushing to him again.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe,” he said as he got into the elevator.

“what is it? can you give me a clue?” she asked.

“hmm… i can just say you’re going to love it,” mick smiled, already looking forward to their christmas trip, one that could possibly change the course of their friendship, possibly changing to something more. being her secret santa wasn’t the only secret mick was keeping.

[mccn-bcys]

🌼 Flower Shop 🌼

Prompt: based on a prompt I found on pinterest a while back but can't find right now

One Shot

Pairing: young!bruno x gn reader

Summary: pepa needs a bouquet of flowers for...something, and while her siblings try to stop her it leads to the buying of another bouquet, for a different reason.

Author's Note: I started writing this and actually finished it in time for Valentine's Day today, so I really hope you guys enjoy this and have a great Valentine's Day ❤ (also pls feel free to leave prompts or even ask questions if you like! the ask box is always open!)

General Notes: reader and the triplets are about 17–20 years old in this.

Warnings: language (pepa curses a bit in this lol) and also my poor Spanish (it's not my first language so I used a translator so pls correct me if any of the Spanish is wrong)

Word Count: 3,745

___________________________________________

the small bell above the door let out a chime, indicating that someone had walked in, while your back was to the door. there were hushed whispers which told you that whoever came in wasn't alone. a small smile overcame your lips as you prepared to face whoever came into your parent's flower shop.

however you weren't quite ready for the hand that slapped money on the counter when you turned around. the sudden sound and motion caused you to let out a small yelp and almost drop the vase of roses in hands. after setting the vase on a shelf, you gave a good look at who was standing on the other side of the counter.

"how do i passive-aggressively say 'vete a la mierda' in flowers?!" the red-head was fuming, a dark cloud thundering above her.

"pepa!" the girl next to her scolded quietly, shooting you an apologetic look. "i told her to watch her language."

"yeah, and i told her that this was unnecessary," the boy on her other side spoke up, sending her a half-hearted glare.

"no, this is completely necessary, brunito—"

"come on, pep, we agreed you wouldn't call me that in public!"

"—and I fully intend to make the burro pay. no one gets away with talking about my brother like that!"

the siblings kept bickering about nicknames and who said what about the youngest sibling. you sat with an amused smile on your face, waiting patiently. to be honest, you had been a little caught off guard when they first came in ordering a vulgar message in flowers, but then again, they were the madrigal triplets and if you've learned one thing about the family, it's that you should always expect the unexpected.

"how big do you want the bouquet?" you asked softly to the boy, who you know to be bruno. he seemed to be slightly frustrated and embarrassed by the whole ordeal, while his sisters argued over pepa's interesting choice of words.

"if i had a say in the matter, id ask for no bouquet at all, but this is pepa and she's gonna want the biggest one you can give us," he sighed with a roll of his eyes. you smiled fondly at him.

bruno madrigal had always intrigued you. when your family moved to the encanto a few months ago, you had first seen him being drug by his sister to do something, though he hadn't looked as upset about it as he appeared to be. he seemed to feed random rats on the streets. you noticed that sometimes before he'd do anything that might get him in trouble, he would throw salt over his shoulder and/or knock on wood. he liked to tell elaborate stories to the children around the encanto.

from what you could tell, he was a nice person, everyone around the encanto liked him. he sometimes had eccentric moments, like carrying stray rats or sometimes he'd get a random vision while walking down the street. but no matter what he did, even if he tripped over his own feet, he always amused you.

"I take it someone wasn't very happy a vision?" you asked as you walked from behind the counter to gather some orange lilies.

"not only that, el hijo de puta decided to call bruno useless and a phony," a small clap of thunder sounded from about the red-headed triplet. "i just can't wait for the day when his hair does fall out."

"pepa! you can't say that about people!"

"why not, juli? you do."

"well, yes, but not in front of people who aren't used to pepa's unfiltered mouth," julieta said quietly, a bashful look on her face, as she gave you an apologetic smile.

you chuckled lightly adding some foxglove to the pile of flowers in your arm. "no, esta bien. it doesn't bother me. i find it kind of flattering that pepa doesn't mind speaking so freely in front of me," you shrugged.

pepa turned to her sister and stuck her tongue out triumphantly causing julieta to roll her eyes with an amused smile on her face. they seemed to argue a lot but you also could tell that they loved each other—for heavens sake, they were buying a bouquet with a vulgar message to defend each other.

it was quiet for a moment, they were watching you gather an assortment of the flowers. casting a glance their way, you smiled and let out a chuckle seeing their curious faces. they all had their head tilted, biting their bottom lip, and furrowed eyebrows. they may look very different at times, but in this moment you found it funny how alike they were in these moments.

"so do you guys have that triplet telepathy thing?" you asked curiously. if they shared the same looks or mannerisms, but they did other things the same way.

"what do you mean?" they all said at the same time, which caused a bought of laughter to bubble out of you, making the youngest triplet to smile.

unbeknownst to you, a certain triplet had been watching you from a distance, just like you had been doing to him. he kept trying to find excuses to talk to you, but nothing seemed good enough of a reason. he hadn't needed any flowers for anything, you hadn't asked for a vision, and you always looked busy whenever he would walk by the shop. and now, his first interaction with you had not been what he wanted it to be at all. he had not imagined his sister would burst into the shop demanding flowers that would be the equivalent to sticking up a certain finger. he was embarrassed, to say the least. more like mortified.

but you didn't seem to mind, calmly going around the flowers and picking up some, a smile on your face. like you didn't mind. the sound of your laughter informed him that you were quite amused by the situation—it also caused a flurry of butterflies to sight flight in his stomach, but that wasn't important. had the flowers not been to give to someone because of him, he would've found it amusing as well, knowing he would've done the same to defend his sisters. not that he wasn't touched that pepa would buy such flowers, it just felt like a little much. your voice brought him out if his thoughts.

"that. you all making the same confused face, saying things at the same time, if one of you is in pain, the other feels it. that kind of thing," you explained.

"i suppose we do sometimes, we've never really noticed," julieta shrugged, giving it some thought.

"although the pain thing isn't true. see, watch this," pepa added, before kicking her brother in the shin with a shit-eating grin. he let out a yelp of pain and grabbed his shin. "see? i don't feel a thing!" pepa said, proudly.

"how about now?" he said with a frown on his face and he punched her in the arm. pepa gasped like 'how dare you' and turned to hit him again before julieta stepped between them.

"behave you two," she said sternly, before digging out a couple beñuelos and handing them to them.

you just laughed again, as you grabbed the last of the flowers you needed, and headed back around the counter to arrange and style the flowers. they were quiet for another moment before the youngest spoke up.

"so why these flowers?" he asked, looking at the assortment. they were all beautiful flowers and the arrangement was looking amazing, but something about them made him also despise it.

"well, flowers can mean different things to many people. however, if you use them in the right way, it'll get the message across, whether or not the receiver realizes what that message is," you started, a smile gracing your lips as you continued arranging the flowers. explaining flowers had always been one of your favorite things to do so you were happy to answer his question. "you see, these orange lilies not only mean confidence but also hatred. they seemed perfect considering pepa seems pretty confident in her choice of message."

pepa grinned but shrugged, basically confirming your statement.

"i added in these geraniums, they mean stupidity. it sounds like someone decided to talk bad about you and that's very stupid. these foxgloves symbolize insecurity, the meadowsweet mean uselessness, and the yellow carnations mean 'you have disappointed me.'" you said, wrapping the flower stems in paper and handed them to pepa.

"it's perfect! they're so beautiful yet i can feel loathing radiating from them!" pepa said happily as she looked them over. "i can't wait to see his face when he gets these. es tan estúpido, he probably won't even realize what they mean! gracías!" she said, a wicked grin on her face, as she raced out of the shop, grabbing her siblings hands to drag them out too. you chuckled lightly, turning to put the money in the register before you heard the bell above the door sound again.

"do you–erm, ho–how did you know all that about the flowers?" bruno asked a small pink gathering on his cheeks, coming to stand in front of you across the counter.

"i read it in a book i got a while back. would you want to borrow it?" you asked him, to which he nodded. you told him to give you a moment while you went to get it, before disappearing up some stairs behind the counter.

when you came back moments later, he was walking around looking at different flowers. you watched him for a minute while he picked a few up to examine them.

"you know that one means peace and commitment," you said when he picked up a hyacinth flower.

bruno let out a yelp of surprise, nearly dropping the flower. you laughed softly as you approached him.

"lo siento, i didn't know you were back," he apologized quietly, his cheeks turning a little pink as he put the flower back.

"no, i apologize. i should've announced my presence a bit better," you gave a bashful smile, coming to stop in front of him.

bruno looked at you for a moment. he's never seen you from this close before. that made him sound like a creep and he internally cringed at the thought. what he meant was thay he'd never noticed the light freckles across your nose. or how your eyes had some sparkle in them, sparks of gentleness and mischief in them. or how you had a freckle that was darker than the others right under your left eye.

"to be honest, something as simple as clearing your throat probably would've startled me just the same," he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, as he looked down at you. you couldn't stop the light laughter that spilled from your lips, which, to bruno, sounded like little music, making him smile and relax a little.

now it was your turn to get a good look at him. you never noticed his green eyes before. from a distance, they always looked brown like his mamá or julieta's. he also had a few freckles that splattered across his nose and cheeks. he had a few acne scars, they were faint but you could see them. his hair was neatly cut but fell just around his jaw, his curls loose and free, making a mess on his head, but he made it look just right.

your eyes went back on his and it felt like you couldn't look away. there was so much in those eyes. there was so much he had seen, so much he knows. with eyes like his, there's no telling the amazing and, probably sometimes, tragic and horrific things he's seen. yet there was so much kindness, but there was also a spark of life in them. a spark that radiated the mischief and and fun.

you cleared your throat, looking down at your hands, remembering the book in them, and handed it to him. "here's that book. it's got a lot of stuff in them, like the flower meanings, the best way to care for them, that kind of stuff."

"gracías. ill bring this back soon. lo prometo," he said, a shy smile on his face, as he started walking back to the door.

"your sister should be okay, as long as she doesn't leave a note with the flowers. the message of those flowers is very subtle if the person receiving them doesn't know about flower language," you called to him before you opened the door. he stopped and looked at you. there was a look on his face–was it fear?

"knowing pep, she definitely has a note to leave with it." he groaned. "maybe i can stop her before she tries to fight a priest."

your eyes widened at that statement. "she's giving it to el sacerdote?!" you weren't sure whether to worry or laugh.

"that's why i tried to stop her from getting those flowers. he wasn't happy that I told him that he'd lose his hair as he ages and he told me that id go to infierno for telling such lies, and pepa found out and she..." he trailed off with a fond chuckle. "she can be a little extreme at times. i know she means well."

you looked at him in disbelief. "he told you that?" you asked and he nodded. "maybe he does need that bouquet," you muttered making him laugh.

"not you too!"

"tell pepa if she brings me a list, ill make a bouquet like that for anyone that's ever said something like that to you, and ill do it for free," you told him, a smile on your face but your tone was serious.

"i don't think that'll be necessary, but I appreciate it," he said honestly, giving you a smile.

"lo digo en serio."

"i believe you," he said before remembering he had a red-head to stop. "gracías de nuevo!" he said as he raced out the door.

you smiled as you stood there for a moment, looking at the spot where he just was. remembering there was flowers and orders to take care of you, you quickly got back to work.

The next day wasn't any different from any other normal day. a few people would trickle in and out, placing orders and such. so when the door bell rang out, you weren't exactly in any hurry to wait on them. most people liked to look around some first anyways.

"ill be with you in just a moment!" you called, finishing writing some details down about an order for later. no response was said, making you question whether there was actually someone that had walked in or not. looking around the the corner, you were met with the same triplet you had just spoken to yesterday.

"bruno?" you called to him. he spun around to face you, having been looking at the flowers around him and looking at some kind of list in his hand. "did pepa make the list?" you joked, walking around the counter to stand in front of him.

he laughed a little. "no, i think she's still working on it. wants to make sure she got everyone who she thinks deserves one," he playfully rolled his eyes. "i actually came to return your book."

you furrowed your eyebrows, confused, as he handed you back the book. had he not enjoyed it? of course, he has other things to worry about. he wouldn't waste his time learning flower language. "was there something wrong with it?" you asked softly.

"no, it was a great book. i, um, i actually finished it last night," he said, looking down at his shoes, trying to hide the slight blush that crept across his face.

"you read it all last night?" he nodded, looking up at you with a bashful grin.

"and i–well, i wrote down some of the flowers that would help me get a certain message across and i was wondering if you'd put the bouquet together for me," he asked, getting quieter as he spoke, like he was embarrassed. he wouldn't meet your eyes as he handed you the list. you were confused until you read the list.

you weren't sure why but your heart sank a bit reading the list.

flower list

pink peonies

carnations

alstroemeria

ranunculus

pink peonies meant romance and bashfulness. the ranunculus symbolized charm and attraction. the carnations were for fascination and new love. the alstroemeria were for friendship and devotion.

bruno madrigal had a crush.

you weren't sure why that made you slightly upset. it wasn't like you were close to him. he probably didn't even know you existed until yesterday and now he wanted your help to catch the eye of some lucky person in the encanto.

"well...this is certainly quite the arrangement. they must be for someone special," you said quietly, getting busy with collecting the flowers.

he chuckled nervously, rubbing his hand along his arm. "w-well, i thought about the traditional flowers like roses or lilies, but those tend to come off a little strong, so i tried for something that still showed my...um, feelings, but also show that, should something start between us, we can take things slow, grow from a friendship and so on," he rambled, not sure if he was making any sense.

"i get it. that's sweet," you smiled softly at him, earning a smile back from him.

it fell back into a silence as you finished gathering the flowers. but it wasn't a comforting silence like yesterday. there was more tension in the air. you also couldn't help the sad look on your face as you walked around.

the silence was killing bruno. he had never spoken to you before yesterday and he loved it, even if it was a short conversation. he liked the sound of your voice. he just wanted to keep talking to you, but something seemed to be bothering you as you walked around gathering the flowers. he was nervous handing you the list, knowing you knew what they meant, worrying you'd figure it out.

"to answer your question, yes, the person is special. they're someone ive admired from a far for a while but i think it's time i did something about it," he said, head facing the floor but peaking at you through his eyelashes as you made your way back to the counter. you only hummed, acknowledging that he had spoken, a smile forming on your face disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

"well, whoever it is, i hope they know how lucky they are," you said quietly, wrapping paper and ribbon around the arrangement and handing it to him with smile.

"gracías," he said, looking over the arrangement, admiration in his eyes. "es bonita. i hope they like them."

"de nada. i hope so, too" you said a tiny bit of sadness leaking into your voice. sure it hurt to see him thinking about someone else, but it wasn't like you two really knew each other. you did know that you just wanted him to be happy.

he gave you another nervous smile before turning and walking out the door. you watched him leave before going to put the book back upstairs with a sad sigh. while you were putting it away, you heard the bell again.

"un minuto!" you called before going back downstairs, but you soon stopped in your tracks, confusion taking over your face.

"is there something wrong with the flowers?" you asked bruno, who was now standing back in the shop, his face a dark shade of pink and a nervous look on his face.

"no, nothings wrong with the flowers. actually, i...i was just delivering them," he said, extending the bouquet out towards you. your head tilted to the side, still confused.

"delivering them? i thought that was what you were doing when you left?"

"w–well, i really walked out so i could have a moment to gather myself. the flowers...theyre for you," he said, his nervousness more apparent as he started to rock slightly from his heels to his toes, back and forth.

"me?" he nodded, his eyes big and hopeful.

he opened his mouth to speak, but the words died before they could come out. he took a couple of deep breaths and tried again. "i don't expect you to return my feelings, and id be okay if we were even just friends if that's what you wanted. but i do know that ive seen you out on deliveries, taking bouquets to people, and i always thought you were muy bonita, and i was too nervous to talk to you. so when Pepa came in yesterday and we got to talk to you, and i just wanted to keep talking to you. even if you don't like me back, id still like to be friends, you're just really cool and funny and smart and prett—"

he was cut off by you suddenly springing forward, hugging him, your hands around his neck. it took him a moment to process it but once he did, he wrapped his arms back you, holding you close, relishing in this moment. when he breathed in, he could help but take in your scent. you smelled like the room full of flowers and it was intoxicating.

when you finally pulled back, you smiled at him with the biggest smile on your face. taking the flowers from him you felt your smile grow impossibility bigger.

"gracías, bruno." you said, going behind the counter and finding a vase to put them in. taking one of pink peonies and handing it to him. his own smile grew, as he recognized the meaning of it.

you liked him back.

"really?" he asked. he had been expecting you to say you weren't interested in him like that.

you nodded, giggling. "really." you stuck your hand out for him, which he hesitantly took, and you interlaced your fingers, making his heart soar. "come on, i can teach some more about flower language. if you'd like."

"i'd like that a lot!" he said, making you both laugh as you pulled him along, as you started teaching him all kinds of things about flowers, and he followed you along with admiration and awe in his eyes as he listened and watched you.

[kepamount]

You Right

kepa arrizabalaga, based on You Right by Doja Cat and The Weeknd - smut, fluff, angst (kinda)

Rating: M (minors, pls do not read this!!)

Word Count: 10.2k+ (i’m sorry 😭)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, strong language, toxic relationship, infidelity, flirting and sexual tension, explicit sex, pet names (in Spanish 😩), body worship (I think??? he kisses her all over lmaoo), fingering, dirty talk, praise and degradation, unprotected penetrative sex, exhibitionism, he gags y/n with his tie lol, choking, i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything pls!!

a/n: it’s finally here! first of all, my spanish is rusty so pls don’t judge if there’s anything mistakes 💀 second, this is a cheating fic so don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with infidelity! finally, please enjoy and lmk what you think!! <33

simi’s navigation

‘Everything alright, y/n?’ Ben says, sliding into the seat beside mine, and I put my phone down on the table in front of me, leaning back as I take a deep breath. ‘Everything’s… great,’ I sigh, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘That was the least convincing answer I’ve ever heard.’ ‘Yeah, ‘cause it was a lie,’ I say drily, and he bursts out laughing. ‘Want me to beat him up?’ ‘Like you could do him any damage,’ I reply, Ben gasping in mock offence.

We’re at a Chelsea Football Club charity dinner and, as the girlfriend of the son of a board member, I get dragged to all of these events. My boyfriend, Wesley, is over at the bar after telling me to get a table and that he’d come and join me, but he’s been too busy flirting with the pretty bartender to remember my existence. So I’ve been sat here in the corner of the room, scrolling through tiktok and trying to hide so I don’t have to greet all the men that put money into the club.

‘What’s he doing?’ Ben asks, motioning over to Wesley, and I let out a little humourless laugh. ‘Getting me a drink, apparently. He has been since we arrived. Which was… fifty minutes ago,’ I say, looking at the time on my phone, and Ben sighs. ‘I don’t know why you keep going back to him,’ Ben says, and I just shrug, unsure of the reason myself

I’m saved from responding by Mason, Reece, Kai and Sophia joining us, Mason instantly launching into an entertaining story about how he almost just knocked one of the directors down the stairs, and I let him briefly distract me from the disappointment I feel about my boyfriend. But, predictably, the conversation turns to me pretty quickly.

‘So, y/n… you’re looking lovely this evening,’ Mason smirks, the others laughing at him as I roll my eyes. ‘Nice try, Mount, but it’s never gonna happen.’ ‘How’s Wes then?’ he asks, eyes wandering over to where Wesley’s chatting up the bartender, his hand on her arm. ‘Don’t be a dick, Mase,’ Reece chides him, and he looks at Reece with a raised eyebrow.

‘y/n literally couldn’t care less about him if she tried,’ he says drily, and he’s not wrong. I don’t really even like Wes anymore, let alone love him, and I fear that the feeling is starting to become mutual. It’s only a matter of time until he stops trying to win me back after I dump him.

‘We know the real reason she’s here,’ Sophia grins, and I try my best to hold back the smile that comes to my face whenever I think of him. ‘Excuse me, Soph. Are you accusing me of having an ulterior motive for attending this event?’ I ask amusedly, the four of them raising their eyebrows at me, Mason looking lost. ‘Stop playing, y/n. We all know who you’re really in love with,’ Callum says as he sits down, Trevoh and Christian with him too.

‘Wait, hang on. Who’s she in love with? This is news to me,’ Mason says, all of the boys and Soph looking at him with disbelief on their faces. ‘Are you being serious, bro?’ Christian asks, Mason nodding, and I shake my head amusedly at how confused he is.

And then I see him, heading our way, walking with Azpi. He’s in a suit with a Chelsea-blue tie on, like all the rest of them, but he easily stands out. His suit is black, accentuating his broad shoulders and strong chest, his trousers perfectly fitted to show off his thick thighs, and I actually have to shut my mouth so I don’t drool at the sight of the gold rings that adorn his long fingers and the gold chain around his neck.

‘Boys, y/n, Sophia,’ Azpi says by way of greeting, and I can just about muster up a little ‘hi, Azpi’, too focused on not professing my love for the man stood beside him. ‘None of you are drinking, I hope,’ Azpi says with a terrible attempt at a stern face, and the boys all hold up their glasses of water.

‘What are you drinking, y/n?’ Kepa asks with a little smile on his face, my heart stopping at the sound of my name on his lips in that sexy accent of his, and I collect all my braincells to formulate a coherent response. ‘Nothing, unfortunately. Wesley was getting me a drink, but…’ I trail off as everyone looks over to where my boyfriend is stood, looking like he’s about to jump over the bar and undress the bartender right now.

‘How… gentlemanly of him,’ Azpi says drily, a quiet laugh running around the table. ‘I would offer to get you a drink, but the bar staff are not allowed to serve us alcohol,’ Kepa says softly, all of the boys muttering about how unfair it is as butterflies explode in my stomach, my eyes locked with Kepa’s deep brown ones. He has to know the effect he has on me because it’s like he does this on purpose, a little smirk on his lips as he gazes at me.

‘Glad to hear it. You’re playing in a couple days, and I want to see a win,’ I say sternly, all of them laughing. ‘Stricter than Tommy, this one,’ Ben grins, patting my shoulder, and hope fills my chest when Kepa’s eyes focus in on Ben’s hand, the smile on his face dropping a little. Is he jealous? No, I must have imagined it, because he looks fine now, his smile still as brilliant as ever.

‘Okay, we’ll leave you kids to it,’ Azpi says, heading off to chat to some sponsors, and Kepa follows behind with a little wink in my direction, my heart jumping as I give him a small smile in return. As soon as they’re out of earshot, I grab onto Ben’s arm to keep myself together, my entire body going weak.

‘Ah. So that’s who she comes to these events for,’ Mason says amusedly as I lean back in my seat, heart fluttering uncontrollably. ‘Good god,’ I whisper, clutching at my chest, all of them laughing at me. ‘y/n, how long have you liked him?’ Trev asks, and I don’t even have to stop to think. ‘Since the 11th August 2018, when he played his first match as a Chelsea goalkeeper,’ I say amusedly, all of their mouths dropping open.

‘Seriously? That long? And you’ve never done anything about it?’ ‘Mason, I have a boyfriend.’ ‘Yeah, a shit one. Just dump him.’ ‘There’s no point. Kepa’s not interested in me. I’m just the girlfriend of some twat that hangs around you lot all the time,’ I mutter, all of them laughing.

‘He specifically asked you what you’re drinking, and then said he would get you a drink if he could.’ ‘He was just being polite, Kai. It’s fine, guys, you don’t have to try and matchmake. I am happy to have a schoolgirl crush on him from afar,’ I say simply, all of them exchanging glances, but they respect my subtle request for them to leave it alone, the conversation changing to the upcoming match.

After a good half an hour of gossiping with Soph, listening to the boys talk football and trying not to get caught watching Kepa across the room, I decide I will need a drink (or nine) to get through the rest of the night. Ben offers to accompany me to the bar, the two of us trying our best to avoid getting caught in a conversation with one of the many boring old white men here.

‘Can I have two pornstar martinis? And please be generous with the vodka,’ I ask the male bartender, the female one too busy flirting with my boyfriend (who hasn’t yet noticed my presence). ‘Sorry, love, but I can’t serve alcohol to any of the lads.’ ‘They’re both for me,’ I say drily, and he raises an eyebrow, not buying it.

Before he can respond, Wesley notices me, and quickly ends his conversation to join me and Ben, pressing a kiss to my lips. ‘Sorry, babe. Forgot about your drink,’ he says, and the bartender can’t hide the shock on his face at realising that I’m the girlfriend of the guy that’s kept his co-worker occupied for the last hour and a half.

‘Two vodka-heavy pornstar martinis, coming right up,’ he says drily, exchanging a glance with me, and Ben tells him to also do me a few shots as Wesley lies to my face about how he got caught in a chat with some of the board members. ‘It’s alright, Wes, you can go back to your conversation,’ I say softly, actually preferring to spend my time without him, and he doesn’t even hesitate to press another kiss to my lips before going back to the other side of the bar.

‘If you don’t dump him in the morning, I’ll do it for you,’ Ben says drily as the bartender puts the cocktails and several shots down in front of me with a sympathetic look on his face. ‘Knock them back, go on,’ Ben prompts, and I knock the shots back in quick succession, wincing at the vodka burning my throat. ‘There we go. You’ll be able to get through the night without murdering your boyfriend now,’ Ben grins, picking up one of the cocktail glasses for me as we head back to the table, mouthing to Azpi that it’s my drink when he gets a stern look from him across the room.

We take our seats again, re-joining the conversation, and I already feel the alcohol getting to my head by the time I’ve finished my first cocktail. The bartender keeps sending drinks over to me, steadily getting me more and more tipsy, my head light and my vision a little bit blurry every now and then.

When I nearly knock Soph’s glass over, they all look at me with concern on their faces. ‘Are you already drunk?’ Ben demands, and I bite my lip. ‘A bit. I haven’t eaten all day.’ ‘Why not, you idiot?’ ‘I wanted to look nice in my dress,’ I pout, Ben rolling his eyes. ‘For God’s sake,’ he mutters, and my stomach suddenly turns, feeling like the drinks are making their way back up my throat.

‘I think I might be sick,’ I declare, words slightly slurred, and all of them look alarmed at the suddenness of my announcement. ‘Fuck’s sake, y/n,’ Ben mutters, helping me up from my seat, and he leads me towards the exit, Sophia following behind us.

We step out from the function room into the lobby of the posh hotel they booked for this event. One of the rooms here is booked for me and Wesley but I somehow doubt we’ll be putting it to any use tonight, the thought making me well up.

Sophia leads us over to a cluster of sofas in the corner of the lobby, Ben sitting me down, and I take deep breaths, trying to hold back my vomit and my tears. ‘Sorry, ‘scuse me, can we have a glass of water please?’ I hear Ben asking one of the hotel employees, his voice faint and distant, and Soph crouches down in front of me, putting a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

‘Just breathe, y/n. They’re getting you some water,’ she says softly, and I keep taking deep breaths. Ben hands me a glass of water after a few moments, making me sip it all down bit by bit, and my vision gradually clears, my fog in my mind slowly dissipating.

‘You okay now?’ Sophia asks gently, and I’m about to respond when I spot Wes sneaking out of the function room, the bartender’s hand in his, and he looks around briefly before they rush over to the lifts together, giggling like little kids. He doesn’t spot us because we’re tucked away in the corner, but we can see him clearly, my heart sinking. I’ve always had an inkling that he cheats on me, but I’ve never had it confirmed, and this might be the worst possible way for it to happen.

‘God, that was enough to bring the vomit back up,’ I say drily, trying not to show how much it’s affected me, but when they both give me sad looks, my eyes well up again. ‘Oh, y/n,’ Soph says softly, and the tears spill over onto my face.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ I curse, tilting my head back to try and stop myself from crying any more, and they laugh, Ben handing me a tissue which I use to dab away the tears, not wanting to wreck my makeup. ‘y/n, please just dump him. And don’t get back together with him this time. You deserve better,’ Ben says, just as the doors to the function room open again, Kepa stepping out this time.

My heart skips a beat when our eyes meet, and his lips quirk up into a small smile as he heads over towards us. When he gets closer and realises I’m crying, his smile disappears, replaced by concern on his face. ‘Are you okay, cariño?’ he asks, the pet name rolling off his tongue so easily, and I almost faint, butterflies filling my stomach.

‘She just saw her boyfriend cheating on her with a bartender,’ Ben says, realising that I can’t find any words at this current moment, and Kepa’s eyes widen in shock. ‘Ay, y/n, I am so sorry,’ he says softly, taking a seat on the sofa perpendicular to the one I’m sat on, and I wave his concerns away, trying to ignore how every inch of my being is having a meltdown right now.

‘Me and Ben are gonna go and grab you something to eat, alright? We’ll be back in a minute,’ Soph says with a sly wink, grabbing Ben’s wrist and dragging him away, leaving Kepa and I alone. My heart is beating so hard that he must be able to hear it, and I can barely look him in the eyes. He’s so handsome, it’s intimidating.

‘I am really sorry, y/n,’ he says again, my heart melting. ‘It’s alright. It’s nothing new. I should’ve broken up with him a long time ago,’ I say lightly, and he looks surprised. ‘You sound… unbothered,’ he observes, and I let out a little laugh.

‘I mean, it’s not ideal. I would rather not have a boyfriend that would choose to spend his time with any woman other than me, but I’m used to it at this point,’ I say mildly, and Kepa just shakes his head. ‘You deserve a lot better than someone who treats you like this. I mean, look at you. He has chosen to sleep with a bartender when the most beautiful girl in the room is his girlfriend?’ Kepa says offhandedly, my heart stopping briefly. The most beautiful girl in the room? This man is trying to kill me.

‘Stop, not even,’ I say shyly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘It is the truth, mi amor. I know you might think I am just trying to make you feel better, but that is not the reason. You look very beautiful tonight, in this lovely dress,’ he murmurs softly, and I can’t help but smooth out the cobalt blue satin of my dress, the nerves of being sat here alone with him really getting to me.

‘Thank you. And you look very handsome in your suit,’ I say coyly, managing to pull myself together enough to attempt flirting back at him, and he grins. ‘Gracias, cariño,’ he replies, leaning back against the sofa and manspreading. I feel my underwear dampening at the sight, just about managing to tear my eyes away from his thighs.

‘Here, y/n. They’re serving the mains in a bit so have this to tide you over ‘til then,’ Ben says, me and Kepa jumping at his and Sophia’s sudden re-appearance as he hands me a bar of chocolate. ‘Thank you,’ I say, both of them already retreating. ‘We’re gonna go back inside, alright? Kep, you don’t mind looking after her for a bit, do you?’ Ben says, him and Soph turning around and speed-walking away before Kepa can even respond.

‘You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine,’ I say, feeling bad, but he shakes his head. ‘I am happy to stay. You are good company,’ he grins, and I can’t hold back my own smile as I try to open the chocolate bar, hands shaky. ‘Aquí, let me do it. How you can do anything with those nails, I do not know,’ he says amusedly, taking the chocolate bar from my hand, tingles running up my arm when his fingers brush against mine.

He opens the packaging and instead of handing me back the bar, he breaks off a block with a small smirk on his face. He holds it out to me, and I know he’s giving me an option. I could take the block from him with my fingers, and that’d put a stop to anything that could happen between us.

So instead, I lean forward with my lips parted, taking the block and letting my lips brush across his skin, our eyes locked together as I take the chocolate into my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue. He suddenly doesn’t look so confident, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he fidgets a little in his seat, and I know I have the upper hand.

‘So, Kepa. Whilst we’re on the topic of relationships,’ I say softly, crossing one leg over the other, ‘is there a special woman in your life?’ ‘I wish, pero no. I am very much single,’ he responds, knowing exactly what I’m getting at, and I nod slowly, a small smile on my face. He breaks another block off the bar, feeding it to me again, his eyes focused on my lips, and I want nothing more than to have his fingers in my mouth instead of chocolate.

‘I envy you. The single life is much better. No responsibilities or obligations. You can sleep with whoever you want,’ I say, and he raises an amused eyebrow. ‘Is that the most important thing?’ ‘It’s one of the main things that appeals to me, considering Wes is the only boy I’ve ever slept with, and he’d rather fuck any girl he can get his hands on instead of his girlfriend. Kinda hurts a girl’s confidence,’ I say quietly, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

‘You have only slept with Wes, in your whole life?’ he asks, and I nod, looking at him through my lashes. ‘Is he good?’ ‘Not particularly. He’s never made me finish,’ I admit, Kepa’s mouth falling open. ‘¿De verdad?’ ‘Yeah. He focuses more on his own pleasure than mine,’ I say, Kepa looking absolutely scandalised. ‘y/n, you need a man who can make you feel good,’ he murmurs, and I hold back an amused smile.

‘Wherever will I find one of those?’ I ask softly, and he raises an eyebrow at me, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek, the sight making me take a deep breath to compose myself. ‘Do not tempt me,’ he murmurs, my heart skipping a beat. He really does want to have sex with me. ‘Maybe I want to tempt you. Maybe… I want you to make me feel good,’ I whisper, and his eyes darken as he processes my words, our gazes locked together for a few long moments as I wait with bated breath for his answer.

‘Joder,’ he curses softly, clearly conflicted, and I let out a little sigh, deciding to play the long game. ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to, Kepa. Actually, forget I ever said anything. Come on, let’s go back inside,’ I say lightly, getting up from my seat, and he looks startled at my sudden switch in demeanour.

‘Espera. Hold on,’ he says after a moment’s hesitation, pushing himself up from the sofa before offering an arm to me. I take it with a small grin, our arms looped together, and he begins to lead me towards the function room.

‘Pon atención, mamí,’ he murmurs softly as we walk, the pet name making my knees weak, ‘you will go in there and sit down with your friends. Whenever you are ready, you will tell them that you do not feel well, and you are going to go to bed. Aqui, take this, and go up to my room on the top floor. I will meet you there, mi amor. ¿Lo entiendes?’

I just about manage to nod, my pants sticking to my skin because of how wet they are, and I take his room key, tucking it into my dress slyly as we reach the door of the function room. He drops me a wink before pushing the door open for me, and I walk past him into the room, heading straight over to the table in the corner and taking my seat between Ben and Sophia.

‘Where is he? What happened? You were supposed to shoot your shot,’ Sophia hisses, only her and Ben paying attention to me, and I just motion over to the door, the two of them watching as Kepa walks in a moment later, heading over to his table to sit with some of the other players. ‘The classic ‘walk-in-separately-so-no-one-suspects-us’ trick. What the hell did you two do?’ Ben demands, and I just smile coyly, pulling Kepa’s keycard out from my dress and putting it down on the table.

They both gasp softly, looking at me with wide eyes, and I grin. ‘He told me to go up to his whenever I want and that he’d meet me there.’ ‘And you’re gonna go?’ ‘Mmhmm. Might wait until the end of the night, just to piss him off a bit,’ I grin, both of them laughing as I sip on some water.

I keep an eye on the time. It’s nearly 9 now, and I decide I’ll wait until 10:30 – if I disappear too soon, people will start wondering where I am, and I’d rather not have it get out that a board member’s son’s girlfriend is fucking a Chelsea goalkeeper upstairs.

I make Ben put his arm on the table so I can sneak sly glances at his watch, and the time ticks by painfully slowly. I try to keep myself distracted, listening to Mason with his funny stories and picking at the food that they bring out, but I’m just itching to go up to the top floor and get railed by the sexiest man on earth. I can’t stop myself from looking over at him every few minutes, and he’s already looking at me a few of the times, a small smirk appearing on his lips. God, this man will be the death of me.

After the staff clear away all the mains dishes, we have to sit through some speeches, and then Wesley’s dad gets up to do a raffle. Wesley bought me a few strips at the start of the night (he thought he was a right big man spending £500 of his dad’s money on raffle tickets) and I wasn’t too bothered, but looking at the prizes now, I find myself hoping I win one.

Kai wins a city break to Monaco for him and Soph (she’s very happy), and Reece wins a piece of contemporary artwork, the other prizes being handed out one-by-one until there’s only a necklace left. ‘And finally, folks, we have a… gold Van Cleef & Arpels necklace, with a lovely diamond butterfly pendant. All the ladies in the room have just perked up a bit,’ Wesley’s dad jokes, light laughter running around the room.

‘I know my son got a few raffle tickets for his girlfriend so let’s hope this goes to the daughter-in-law,’ he says lightly, eyes turning to me, and I put on a shy smile, Ben rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath about my ‘blushing bride’ act. ‘Pray for me that I get that necklace,’ I murmur to the table as Wesley’s dad puts his hand into the raffle box, pulling out a number.

I hold my breath as he squints his eyes at the piece of paper in his hands, already picturing how sexy I’d look with that around my neck. It’d look perfect with this dress too – the gold and blue combo is unbeaten. And the gold on my skin would be amazing. I’ll wear it literally every day. I don’t think I’ll ever take it off. It’ll be my prized posse-

‘Ticket number 310,’ he reads out, my heart sinking. Our tickets were in the 80s and 90s. Nowhere near 310. There’s a moment of silence as we wait for the winner to go and claim their prize, and of course it’s him. Of course it’s the most beautiful man in the room that stands up amongst applause, a small smirk on his face as he heads up to the front of the room, stealing a cocky glance at me on his way.

‘Ah, our Number 1! I’m sure this’ll look lovely on you, Kepa,’ Wesley’s dad grins, more laughter around the room, Kepa grinning as Wesley’s dad hands him the blue velvet necklace box. It looks tiny in his hands. His hands are so big and pretty, veiny and bony with long fingers and- y/n! Focus, woman!

He heads back to his table with a sly wink at me, and the boys’ heads instantly turn in my direction. ‘Our prayers definitely worked, y/n. Looks like the necklace is yours,’ Soph says under her breath, and I grin at her, clinking my glass against hers before lifting it to my lips and taking a small sip of the water.

The string quartet resume their playing after Wesley’s dad gives another little speech, gentle conversation continuing, and I let out a little sigh. ‘I might go up now,’ I say softly, only Ben and Soph able to hear me. ‘About time,’ Sophia says drily, and I stifle a laugh before clearing my throat to get the boys’ attention.

‘I’m so sorry, guys, but I’m not feeling great. I’m just gonna head to bed,’ I say, all of them letting out protests, Ben muttering ‘whose bed?’ and yelping when I kick him under the table. ‘I would stay but I still have a lot of alcohol in my system and I might vomit any second so I’m gonna go before I embarrass myself. I’ll see you all in a couple days though, at the match,’ I say, all of them reluctantly agreeing before bidding me goodbye.

I get up from my seat, making sure my phone and the keycard are in my bag before heading towards the door, feeling Kepa’s eyes on me as I go. My entire body is alight with anticipation as I step into the lift, waiting impatiently for it to reach the top floor, and I almost sprint down the corridor to his room, fumbling around with the keycard as I let myself in, leaving the door unlocked behind me.

One entire wall is windows overlooking the city, and the view out over the skyline is breath-taking. The room carries a faint scent of expensive aftershave, and I find myself inhaling the scent as I walk over to the window. I leave the lights off, the city lights streaming in through the windows doing more than enough to illuminate the room, and I impatiently anticipate his arrival, topping up my lipgloss while I wait.

I suspect he’s punishing me for waiting so long, because I feel like I’ve been sat here for an eternity by the time he knocks lightly on the door. ‘It’s unlocked,’ I call out, and I hear the door handle turning slowly before he pushes the door open, light streaming in from the hallway. I don’t turn to look at him, instead watching his reflection in the windows as he shuts the door behind him.

‘¿Quieres una copa de vino?’ he asks in a voice like velvet, and I smile to myself. ‘Just a little one,’ I reply without turning to face him, his lips curling up as he gets a bottle of wine out of the mini fridge, pouring me out half a glass and bringing it over to me.

‘Gracias,’ I say as I take it from him, giving him a little smile, and he raises an impressed eyebrow at my accent. ‘¿Puedes hablar español?’ ‘A little bit. Enough to understand everything you’ve said to me.’ ‘Did you learn it at school?’ he asks, sitting down on the bed, and I shake my head, leaning back against the window. ‘I did French at school. I started learning Spanish a few years ago, in my own time,’ I say before taking a sip of the wine, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

‘What made you want to learn it?’ he asks, and I hesitate, too embarrassed to tell him he’s the reason. I heard him speaking Spanish at one of the first events we both attended after he joined, and I signed up to Duolingo the next day. He realises the reason from my momentary silence, lips curving up into a smirk.

‘¿De verdad? You started learning because of me?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes. ‘Big-headed much? You’re not the reason,’ I tell him, and he just raises an eyebrow, not buying my lie for a second. ‘Mi amor, you do not have to lie to me. I know you have… how you say? A crush for me,’ he grins, and I blink at him in shock for a moment. I’m gonna kill Ben.

‘You think I have a crush on you?’ ‘I do not think, mamí. I know,’ he replies cockily, head angled down as he looks up at me, his smoulder making my heart race. ‘I have a boyfriend.’ ‘Sí, un novio que odies,’ he replies drily, and I roll my eyes.

‘I don’t hate him. Well, I do now that I saw him cheating on me. But I didn’t before. So you can get this idea of me having a crush on you out of your head,’ I say firmly, and he just shakes his head amusedly. ‘Mamí. Do you think I am… ¿cómo se dice ciego en inglés?’ he asks, making me let out a soft laugh. ‘Blind,’ I remind him, and he nods with a little grin.

‘Sí, blind. Because I am not. I see how you look at me. How you have been looking at me since we met. You become nervous and giggly, like a little schoolgirl. You have never looked at Wesley how you look at me,’ he says neutrally, as though he knows that it’s fact, and I just gaze at him, mentally debating whether I should carry on lying or not. Fuck it.

‘That’d be because you’re sexier than Wesley,’ I murmur before taking a sip of the wine, and he raises an amused eyebrow, leaning back on his elbows, body stretched across the bed in a way that makes my heart flutter. ‘Am I?’ he grins, and I nod. ‘Mmhmm. Some might even say by a landslide,’ I respond offhandedly, and he nods slowly with an impressed smile.

‘Some? Are you part of the ‘some’ that would say that?’ he asks, and I consider his question for a moment. ‘No. I think you’ll have to… persuade me to make me think that,’ I say softly, looking at me him through hooded eyes over the rim of my glass, and he tries to remain cool, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple in his throat betraying him.

‘Persuade you? ¿Cómo, cariño?’ he asks, and I think it over for a few seconds before responding in a purr, ‘However you think is best, Kepa. You take control.’ He’s frozen in place after hearing my words of permission, eyes darkening and lips slightly parted in shock. ‘¿De verdad? Are you sure, mamí?’ he asks, voice sounding slightly strained with the effort of keeping it even, and I nod, lips curved up at the corners.

He takes a deep breath, clearly composing himself, before he pushes himself up from the bed. I forget how… big he is, his frame formidable in front of me with his massive shoulders, big hands and thick thighs. ‘Turn around, mi cielito,’ he murmurs, my stomach turning with anticipation as I do as he says, looking out over the city again, his reflection faint in the window. He reaches into an inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a jewellery box.

My heart stops as he puts the box down to one side before he takes a step closer to me, moving my hair to one side with a soft hand, fingers brushing across my bare shoulders. He unclasps the necklace I’m already wearing, slipping it into his pocket, and reaches for the box, carefully lifting the necklace out of it. My body tingles as he lifts it over my head, my back almost touching his chest as he clasps it around my neck, fingers on my skin making my body tingle.

I look down at the pendant, lifting it off my chest and gasping softly at the way the diamonds catch the city lights, and I’m too focused on the way the butterfly sparkles in my fingers to notice how he leans down to the crook of my neck. My mind goes haywire when I feel his lips softly brush across my skin, hands snaking around my waist to wrap around my body and pull me closer to him.

‘Te miras, querido. Look at yourself with your necklace on,’ he prompts, speaking against my neck in a way that makes my knees weaken, and I do as he says, looking at my reflection in the window. It’s not very clear, but the pendant sparkles almost as much as my eyes do. I see myself as he sees me, in a way that Wesley never made me see myself. I look beautiful.

‘Ay, que bonita. The mariposa on that chain is almost as pretty as the one in my arms,’ he grins, lips moving up my neck to my jaw, leaving soft kisses between each word, and I melt at him calling me mariposa. If Wesley ever tried to call me his butterfly, I’d probably throw up.

‘You’re giving it to me?’ I ask in a whisper, and he chuckles, looking up to meet my eyes in the window. ‘A necklace this beautiful deserves to be worn by a pretty girl, and you, mi mariposa, are the prettiest girl in the world,’ he murmurs with true sincerity, and I can’t help myself from turning my head to look at him, tilting my head back and letting my eyes flutter shut.

He gets the message, letting out a soft laugh as he leans down, his plump lips brushing against mine experimentally. He leans back after just a second, as though he’s checking I’m okay with this, my heart melting. Without opening my eyes, I turn in his arms, snaking an arm around his neck and pulling him back down towards me.

His smirking lips land on mine, firmer this time, and he pulls me closer to him, practically lifting me off the floor, my weight resting on my toes. He parts my lips with his, tongue sliding across mine, and I let out a soft whimper into his mouth. My body fills with gentle pleasure as he wraps my hair around his hand to angle my head back further, my scalp tingling at the slight pull.

Our lips move together as I toy with the short, silky hairs at the back of his head, the other hand trying to keep the glass of wine upright, thinking that he wouldn’t be too impressed if I spilled it down his back. Though with the way I can feel a poking in my hip, I don’t think he’d let anything stop him from fucking me, the thought making my pulse quicken.

My phone rings suddenly, the shrill iPhone ringtone making us both jump, wine sloshing as I break apart from him, putting my glass down and picking up my phone. ‘¿Quién es?’ ‘Sophia. It might be urgent,’ I say apologetically, Kepa nodding as he sits down on the bed, TV remote in hand.

‘Can I help you, Sophia Weber?’ I say exasperatedly. ‘I know you’re getting dicked down, I’m sorry. It’s just that Wes is back, and he’s looking for you,’ she says in a hushed voice, and I let out an irritated sigh at his timing, closing my eyes for a moment as Kepa flicks through the channels to amuse himself.

‘Shall I tell him we saw him cheating on you? So you don’t wanna see him right now? Please let me break up with him for you,’ she begs, and I laugh, considering it for a moment. ‘No, don’t tell him. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.’ ‘So what shall I say if he asks me? I’m literally hiding in the toilets because he’s asked all the boys and I’m probably next,’ she says, the image of her locked in a cubicle and whispering down the phone making me laugh.

‘Just tell him what I told the others.’ ‘No, because he took the bartender up to your guys’ room, so you’re obviously not there, which is why he’s asking everyone. The boys have all worked it out because Kepa’s missing as well, but Ben’s making sure that none of them blab. Everyone’s just saying they don’t know but I can’t say that as well because then he’s gonna get stressed and raise the alarm that you’re missing or something,’ Sophia says, and I roll my eyes amusedly at her dramatics.

‘It’ll be fine, Soph. Just buy me some time. Twenty minutes, that’s it,’ I plead, and she lets out a sigh. ‘I’ll text Kai to tell him to stall Wes, and I’ll hide in here for fifteen minutes max. Then I’ll go back inside, tell Wesley I don’t know where you are, and you can deal with him.’ ‘Ugh, thank you, Soph. I could kiss you right now, you’re the best.’ ‘Yes, yes, I know. Now go, get your shit wrecked,’ she says drily before hanging up.

I put my phone down, sighing lightly as I turn to look at Kepa, and he holds a hand out to me, smirking. ‘We have veinte minutos?’ he asks, and I nod, putting my hand in his, and he pulls me closer so I’m stood between his legs. He’s so tall that even sat down, he’s face-to-face with me.

He slides a hand around to the back of my neck, pulling me forward so he can kiss me again, shivers running through my body when our lips connect. ‘I would have only needed ten,’ he grins against my lips, my underwear flooded as he pulls me down on top of him.

Our kiss is brief, both of us knowing we don’t have long, and he flips us over after a few seconds, pushing himself off me and standing up between my legs. He slides his hands up my legs, pulling the dress up with them, exposing my drenched pants. ‘Ay, mira esto,’ he grins, his eyes instantly spotting the wet patch before flitting up to meet mine, ‘tus bragas. They are soaked, mi amor.’

He hooks a thick finger around them, pulling them down my legs and tucking them into his pocket where my necklace is with a grin on his face, making me even wetter. ‘Are you like this por tu novio, y/n? Is Wesley the one who made you this wet, mi amor?’ he asks, and I let out a whimper at the mention of my boyfriend’s name when another man is about to fuck me.

‘I asked you a question, querido,’ he murmurs, tone slightly darker, and I shake my head. ‘No? It was not Wesley?’ he asks again amusedly, and I breathe out a soft, ‘no.’ ‘I think…’ he begins, lifting my legs up to rest on his shoulders before kissing my anklet, ‘that maybe it was me who made you this wet. Am I right, mamí?’

He continues kissing along the inside of my leg, getting down to his knees and pulling me to the edge of the bed so he can reach my inner thighs, backs of my legs pressing down on his sturdy shoulders. ‘Answer me, y/n. Or you might as well just go back down to your boyfriend now. I am not going to give you what you want if you are not good for me,’ he murmurs, and I push down my pride. ‘Yes, Kep, you’re right. It was you,’ I breathe out, and his lips curl up into a smirk against my thigh.

‘Bueno. Mi chica buena,’ he murmurs, pushing a finger between my folds without warning, and I let out a soft moan. He adds another finger, using them to try and stretch me out, and I bite down on my lip, letting out gentle whines and whimpers every few seconds. He plants featherlight kisses along my thighs, whispering sweet-nothings in Spanish against my skin, making me wetter and wetter by the second.

An unfamiliar knot begins to tighten in my stomach, and I realise that I’m approaching an orgasm for the first time in my life. But Kepa’s fingers disappear after only a few minutes and the knot loosens almost instantly, making me whine. ‘Yo sé, mariposa, I know. But we do not have long. Next time, I will spend hours making you feel good,’ he says soothingly, standing up and shrugging off his jacket, throwing it off to the side somewhere.

I sit up and reach for his trousers, nails flicking open the buttons and pulling down the zip as he watches me, breath catching in his throat whenever my hands brush across his bulge. He pulls his trousers and Calvin Klein underwear down just enough to free his cock, and I feel my stomach turn at the size of him. He is not gonna fit inside of me.

‘Lie back, querido,’ he murmurs and I do so, letting him lift one of my legs over his shoulder, allowing him full access to my core. ‘¿Quieres que uso un condón?’ he asks, and I shake my head, needing him now. ‘I’m on birth control,’ I murmur, and he doesn’t wait another second before pushing into me. I let out a long moan, head falling back against the bed and back arching up as he slides in slowly, filling me up more than I can handle.

He remains still once he’s bottomed out, a small smirk on his face as he watches me, waiting for me to adjust, and I take deep breaths, gradually getting used to the burning stretch. ‘You can move,’ I breathe out after a long few seconds, and he doesn’t need to be told twice, his hips finding a slow rhythm as they move back and forth.

He starts off gentle, his thrusts deep but leisurely, and it feels like the head of his cock is prodding against my cervix each time he slides back in, making me whimper pathetically. ‘Does it feel good, princesa? Getting fucked while tu novio looks for you downstairs?’ he asks with a smirk, his words making me gush around him as I moan, his grin growing when he realises that the thought of cheating only turns me on even more.

‘Mi putita sucia,’ he murmurs, thrusting into me particularly hard, and my mouth drops open in a silent moan at being called his dirty little slut. His big hands hold my waist in a bruisingly tight grip, dress bunched up around my hips, and my ankle rests on his strong shoulder, anklet digging into my skin so hard it’ll leave marks.

He gradually picks up the pace, knowing we don’t have long, and I moan helplessly as his cock drags against my walls. I can’t help but clench around him, not used to feeling such strong pleasure when being fucked, and I can tell he’s holding himself back from going harder, his skin flushed and wet with perspiration. ‘Joder. So tight, mamí,’ he groans, body tensed with the effort of keeping himself together, and my back arches up off the bed, tits almost spilling out of my dress.

‘Mi chica bonita. I just want to rip this dress off you,’ he growls, and I almost tell him to do as he pleases, past the point of caring about Wes. ‘Maybe I should. You can wear my jacket. I am sure your boyfriend would be very impressed,’ he grins amusedly, making me let out a loud moan of his name. He leans forward, slipping two fingers into my mouth to shut me up, and I can taste myself on his skin.

‘You have to be quiet for me, cariño. If he is looking for you, he might search the whole hotel, and I am sure anyone on this floor will be able to hear you. Or maybe you want him to hear you. You probably would not even mind if he walked in on us, ¿no?’ he asks with a small smirk, my brain barely processing his words, too focused on the tip of his cock scraping against the spot inside me that makes my eyes roll back, intense waves of pleasure rolling over my body.

‘Mi cielito likes the sound of that, ¿sí? Do you want your boyfriend to see you getting fucked by the man you have liked for years? Want him to see how it is done? I’m sure he has never seen this look on your face, or heard you making these pretty noises. Am I right, mi amor? I bet he has no idea how pretty you look when you are getting fucked by a real man,’ he murmurs cockily, the knot in my stomach tightening with every word he says, and I can’t even form words, babbling unintelligibly around his fingers.

The iPhone ringtone breaks through our lust-filled bubble, and he lets out an irritated sigh, his movements stilling as he looks over his shoulder to where my phone sits on the table. ‘It is your boyfriend, y/n,’ he grins, reaching for the phone and holding it up for me to see, a picture of Wes’ face filling the screen.

He puts the phone down on my stomach and answers it, my heart pounding when he puts it on speaker. ‘Hola, Wesley,’ he smirks, hands loosening the Chelsea blue tie around his neck. ‘Kepa?’ Wesley’s voice comes from the phone, his tone one of confusion. ‘Sí, hermanito,’ Kepa replies, the irony of him calling my boyfriend ‘little brother’ while his cock is inside me not lost on me at all.

‘How comes you’ve got y/n’s phone? Is she alright?’ ‘Sí, Wes, your girlfriend is fine. She is just… having a lie-down. A little nap,’ Kepa grins, removing his tie from around his neck and stuffing it into my mouth, making my stomach turn. He’s about to fuck me whilst speaking to my boyfriend on the phone. The thought makes a fresh wave of arousal rush out around his cock, his grin growing even wider.

‘Where?’ Wesley asks, sounding sceptical, and Kepa pulls almost all the way out, running the head of his cock up and down my folds. ‘In my room. She did not feel well and she could not find you to get the key for your room. I bumped into her in the lobby while she was crying so I offered her my room. I am staying with her just to… keep an eye on her,’ Kepa lies, clearly wanting to make Wes feel guilty, and I try my best to remain quiet when he pushes all the way back into me, eyes rolling back.

‘She was crying?’ ‘Sí. I think you will have a lot of making up to do,’ Kepa jokes, leisurely thrusting into me, and my eyes fill with tears at the effort of staying silent, my vision blurred and head numb with pleasure.

‘Where’s your room? I’ll come up and see her,’ Wes says, voice laced with guilt. ‘Do not bother, hermanito. She told me to wake her up in 5 minutes, so we will come back down to the party soon,’ he says, his thrusts becoming faster and harder as he leans forward to wrap a hand around my neck, fingers pressing lightly and rings cold against my warm skin.

‘Are you sure?’ ‘I am sure, Wes. Do not worry, I am taking good care of her,’ Kepa grins, and I can’t contain myself at that, a muffled moan coming out from around the tie in my mouth. ‘What was that?’ Wes asks suspiciously as Kepa fucks into me, hand tightening at my throat, the lack of oxygen going to my brain making every movement feel a thousand times more intense, the sting of his rings a pleasurable pain.

‘She moans in her sleep, I am sure you know. Es muy adorable,’ he smirks, and I can practically feel Wesley’s jealousy through the phone. ‘Anyway, we will be down soon, Wes. No need to worry, she is in good hands,’ Kepa says with a grin, reaching the hand that isn’t around my neck down to where our bodies meet, rubbing slow and hard circles onto my clit.

‘If you say so, bro. Thank you,’ Wesley says begrudgingly, and Kepa looks endlessly amused. ‘No need to thank me. It’s my pleasure,’ he responds, voice laced with innuendo, and I feel my high nearing, walls clenching around him, my hands gripping onto the bedsheets for dear life as he fucks into me so hard my legs shake, anklet jingling beside his ear.

‘Don’t be too long then. They’re serving dessert soon,’ Wesley says with reluctance in his voice, and Kepa’s grin grows again. ‘I think she is full,’ he murmurs, his jokes at my boyfriend’s expense only making me want him even more. ‘But, yes, we won’t be long,’ Kepa says before hanging up on him, throwing my phone further up the bed.

He begins slamming into me, the bed hitting the wall with each thrust, and he pulls the tie out of my mouth, letting me moan uncensored, my eyes fluttering shut. ‘Fuck, Kepa, feels so good,’ I whisper, voice strained because of his hand around my neck, the knot in my stomach pulled so tight, and he presses harder on my clit, pushing me closer.

‘Look at you, mi putita. So desperate for me after almost getting caught by your boyfriend. So dirty, princesa. Are you going to cum for me, mamí?’ he asks in a low and patronising voice, and all I can do is moan in response, my walls clenching erratically around him as I feel his chain hitting my chin with each thrust. ‘Look at me, cariño. Look at the man that is fucking you instead of your little boyfriend,’ he says, smirk evident in his voice, and I force my eyes open, heart stopping momentarily when I meet his gaze.

His curls are pasted down to his forehead with sweat, tan skin tinged with a light blush, and his pretty eyes are impossibly dark, blown out with desire. The top button of his shirt is open, the white material pulled tight across his broad shoulders and strong chest, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing vascular and muscly arms. I could cum just from the sight of him like this.

‘Cum for me, bonita. I want you to scream my name, mamí, so loud that your boyfriend can hear you from downstairs. Scream my name when you cum for me, mariposa,’ he growls, and with a particularly hard thrust of his cock against the spongy spot inside me, the knot in my stomach snaps.

My mouth falls open in a loud moan of his name, head pressing into the bed sheets, and my legs shake as I cum around him, walls clamped down so tight he can’t move, the man rubbing at my clit to get me through my orgasm. He keeps his hand tight at my neck, the lack of oxygen mixed with the intense pleasure rushing through my veins making my vision go white, back arched up from the bed and body tense.

As I come down from my orgasm, my body goes slack, walls loosening around him, and he begins to fuck into me again to get himself to his own high, both of his hands gripping onto my waist so he can thrust into me roughly.

Soft grunts and groans fall from his lips, the sounds like heaven to my ears, and despite being completely spent, I try my best to help him get there, rolling my body to meet his thrusts, and he’s so close, cock twitching inside me.

I take my leg off his shoulder, wrapping both legs around his waist, ankles interlocked, and his head falls back as he lets out a strained moan, the veins in his neck corded tight. ‘Are you gonna cum, Kep?’ I ask, my voice hoarse, and he nods, eyes screwed shut and lips slightly parted. He looks so fucked out, sparking intense desire in my chest, and I suddenly feel like I could go another round (or 5).

‘Cum inside me, papí. Fill me up with your cum, so my boyfriend knows I got fucked by another man,’ I whisper, Kepa letting out a shaky breath, hips stuttering. I know he’s about to cum so I dig my heels into his back, keeping him buried to the hilt inside me, clenching around him.

He leans down and buries his head into my neck as he reaches his high, moaning my name followed by a string of unintelligible Spanish, muffled against my shoulder. I feel his warm release cover my walls, cock twitching inside me as he cums, and he slowly rocks himself through his orgasm.

Once he’s emptied himself inside me, he takes a few deep breaths, pressing gentle kisses and nipping softly at the exposed skin of my breasts, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding him close. I could stay like this with him forever, his body on top of mine a comforting feeling, his kisses a soft sign that this might be more than just lust between us.

‘We should go, mi amor,’ he sighs after a minute or so, pushing himself off me, and I pout up at him. ‘Ay, no, mi cielito. Do not give me that look. He will come and break down the door if we take too long,’ he says amusedly, softly caressing the side of my face. ‘Let him, I don’t care,’ I mumble tiredly, and he laughs before pulling out of me, the sudden emptiness making me shudder.

He slides his arms beneath my body, pulling me up into a sitting position before he gets a towel from the bathroom, briefly cleaning me up with featherlight touches across my body. He helps me up, and I walk around shaky legs, trying to get my body moving like normal again.

I touch up my makeup in the mirror, using the powder in my bag to cover up any sweat on my face and topping up my lipgloss because he’s kissed it all away. I smooth down my hair, trying to look like I didn’t just get railed, before adjusting my dress, pulling the straps on properly and smoothing out the creases.

I spray on a little bit of his aftershave – I’d rather Wes smell another man’s aftershave on me than the strong scent of sex. Finally, I fix my new necklace, making sure the pendant is central on my chest, Kepa watching me amusedly.

He looks like nothing’s happened to him at all. His curls are perfect, the blush gone from his skin, and his clothes don’t look at all crumpled. The only thing different is his lack of tie (he can’t wear it now that it’s covered in my spit) but he looks even sexier without it, the top two buttons open and revealing a slice of his smooth tanned chest.

‘Can I have my pants?’ I ask, and he shakes his head at me in the mirror, lips curved up at the corners. ‘I think I will keep them, mamí. You should hope that your boyfriend doesn’t notice that you have another man’s cum inside you,’ he smirks, his words making me wet all over again.

‘Seriously?’ I ask as he comes to stand beside me, and he nods, sliding his arms around my waist and leaning down to kiss along my jaw. ‘Maybe you can come and collect them from my house. Wesley can drop you off,’ he grins against my skin, a soft sigh falling from my lips at the thought of going over to his house to get fucked by him again.

‘Come on, mi cielito,’ he says, turning me around and pressing a light kiss to my lips, ‘let’s get you back to your boyfriend.’ He shrugs his jacket back on as I pick up my bag and phone, and we head out of his room. We walk in a comfortable silence, and I lean against him when we stand in the lift, feeling secure with his arms around me.

He offers me his arm again, and I can’t help but let out a little laugh as we repeat the walk towards the function room, this time under very different circumstances. He pushes the door open, Wesley’s eyes instantly landing on us when we walk in, and Kepa leads me over to the table where all my friends sit.

‘Thank you, Kepa,’ I say softly as I take my seat, the man grinning down at me. ‘No problem, mi amor. Enjoy your dessert,’ he replies lightly, dropping me a wink before he heads off to his own table. All eyes are on me, Wesley’s included, and I wait for him to start on me, ready to have a screaming match with him right now.

‘I’m sorry, babe,’ Wesley says, pressing a light kiss to my cheek, and I’m so surprised at the apology that I just nod. He takes my silence as a sign that I’m annoyed, taking my hand into his with a guilty look on his face. ‘I got distracted with the board, but you have my full attention for the rest of the night. I promise. I’m really sorry I wasn’t there to look after you,’ he says softly, the others trying to pretend they’re not eavesdropping.

‘It’s fine. I feel okay now,’ I say, and Wesley raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure? Because you look rough. Like you’ve been through the wars,’ he says, Ben choking on his drink, the others all pretending to laugh at that and not the irony of the real reason I look rough. ‘Thanks, Wes,’ I say drily, and he looks even guiltier.

‘No, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re still beautiful, obviously. I can just tell you’re tired.’ ‘Yeah, she must be shattered,’ Ben mutters from the opposite side of the table, Wes looking at him in confusion and I shoot him a death stare. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine. I just want dessert.’ ‘Didn’t you already have some?’ Ben asks with a grin, making me shoot another look at him as the others try to stifle their laughter.

‘What dessert did you have?’ Wes asks, and I hesitate, caught on the spot, taking a sip of Soph’s water to buy myself some time. ‘Kepa’s chocolate bar,’ Ben says cheerfully, the others all bursting into laughter as I choke on my water. ‘What?’ Wes demands. ‘Yeah, Kepa gave me a chocolate bar. Dairy Milk,’ I smile, trying to stay calm, Wes looking still looking suspicious as he nods.

Wesley’s dad appears, standing behind Ben and grinning around at all of us. ‘How are we, kids?’ he asks, all of us muttering various positive responses. ‘Good, good. I see you’re wearing the Van Cleef & Arpels, y/n,’ he says, everyone’s eyes turning to the necklace, and I nod nervously.

‘Nice of Kepa to give it to you,’ he says, not realising the innuendo in his own words, and Ben chokes on his drink again, making us all burst into laughter as Callum pats him on the back. Wesley stares at the pendant with jealousy in his face, and I look over to where Kepa’s sat, his eyes already on me.

He grins, winking at me again, and my heart flutters as I smile back at him, unable to believe how handsome he is. I get a flashback to mere moments ago, his cock buried deep inside of me, his voice moaning my name echoing in my mind. ‘Yes, it was very nice of him,’ I murmur in response, hand lifting to the pendant and toying with it, the diamonds sparkling like the city lights under the starry night sky.

[avatarmerida]

Beautiful

I know that this ask was from the “send me a word and if it’s in my wip I’ll post the sentence it’s in” prompt and I didn’t have a sentence with this word in it but seeing this actually inspired a short little fic so Imma just post it here in response lol. I used google translate for the spanish pls no one hate me i lost my Duolingo streak

---

“After this can we go over conjugation again?” Hunter asked as he flipped to an empty page in his notebook.

“Sure,” said Luz. “But you don’t have to take so many notes ya know, there’s not gonna be a test or anything.”

“I know that’s technically true, but something about the look in the eyes of that little owl in the box makes the stakes feel higher.” said Gus with a shudder.

“We have a streak to protect,” added Willow with determination, furiously sharpening her pencil to take notes of her own.

“All right, let’s try translating some basic sentences,” said Luz, writing a new one on the board. 

La flor es muy hermosa

“Oh oh oh! I know this one!” announced Amity, eagerly raising her hand.

“I know you do batata, but let’s let someone else try,” said Luz with a wink. “Whatcha got, Gus?”

“I’m not entiiiirely sure what it says, but I’ve gotten really good at rolling my r’s,” said Gus. “Herrrrmosa. See?”

“That is pretty impressive,” marveled Luz. “What about you, Hunter?”

“Well, I know that ‘la’ is a definite article for nouns,” he began, breaking down the sentence piece by piece as he often did. “And ‘muy’ is a common adverb that means ‘very’ or sometimes ‘highly’ so it’s saying ‘something’ is ‘something,’ right?”

“You’re on the right track!” Luz encouraged. “I snuck in two new vocab words to test your ability to use context clues.”

“Boo! You said there were no tests!” said Willow with thumbs down. Hunter contined to stare at the board as if it was one of life’s greatest mysteries. 

“Hmmm, ‘la flor es muy hermosa.’ read Hunter aloud. “Can you give me a hint?”

“Hmmm... it’s something in this room,” said Luz, looking towards the corner where Willow’s latest collection of chrysanthemums sat in a pot basking in the sunlight. 

“Uh... beanbag?”

“No, uh... oh!’“ said Luz, snapping her fingers with inspiration. “It’s a word you would associate with Willow.”

“Oh, beautiful.” said Hunter as though it couldn’t be more obvious, writing it down with confidence in his notebook.

“Um...” said Luz, taking delight in the smile Willow was obviously trying to suppress as she snuck a glance at the boy beside her. “That’s technically correct. So we’re almost there, ‘flor’ is another word we could associate with Willow.”

“Strong? Brave?” tried Hunter, tapping his chin with his pen. “But... no, ‘la’ signifies the following word would be a noun... is it captain? ‘The captain is very beautiful?’ Or would that be capitalized?”

“Hunter, do you want me to-.”

“No, no I don’t need another hint, I can figure it out,” he insisted. “Beautiful like Willow... what’s beautiful like Willow...?”

“Luz you’re gonna break him,” said Gus playfully as Hunter attempted to do the impossible.

“Oh! The flower is very beautiful!” said Hunter triumphantly.

“Perfecto, mi amigo!” sang Luz. “Is, uh, that what you got too, Willow?”

“Well, I’m more of a visual learner.” smiled Willow, turning her notebook around to share a detailed drawing of a beautiful flower.

“Wow, that is beautiful Captain!” Hunter praised, Willow had truly brought the sentence the life.

“Yeah,” agreed Luz with a grin. “Does that mean you’re gonna draw a picture of Willow in your notebook Hunter?” She teasingly asked the boy who was suddenly made aware of his own words and turned a bright crimson.

“W-what? Why? I-I don’t do that!’ he sputtered, covering the bottom of the his notebook page for some totally unrelated reason.

“Oh! Oh! Teacher, teacher!” said Gus, frantically raising his hand. “How do you say ‘busted’ in Spanish? And please tell me there’s an r in it.”

“Arrestado,” Luz replied.

“Arrrrrestado dude,” said Gus with a smirk to Hunter, who groaned lightly as the rest of the group laughed.

“Okay, okay, there will be plenty of time to tease Hunter after class,” said Luz. “Let’s translate some more adjectives while we’re on a roll. What are other words similar to ‘beautiful?’“

“Oh oh! ‘Amazing!” sang Amity, ready to shine. “Its ‘Increíble’ as in ‘mi novia increíble.”

“Aw! Gracias, batata.” Luz blushed.

“Not impressive, we all know that's like the first thing you learned,” scoffed Gus. “What about ‘totally awesome?’”

“Totalmente asombroso.”

“Gus es totalmente asombroso,” said the boy. “I think we should all work on making this a permanent part of our vocabulary.”

 “What about ‘handsome?’” asked Willow.

“Well, you could use guapo.”

“And then muy guapo would be very handsome, right?”

“Correcta!”

“Cool,” said Willow as she added the new phrase to her notebook, her eyes wandering over to Hunter who still stared at his notebook with a face that reminded Willow how she had learned the word rojo. “Muy guapo.”

As Luz moved on, Hunter couldn’t help but feel Willow’s gaze on him and turned his attention away from his vocab to return her dreamy look with inquisitive eyes. “Why are you looking at me?” whispered Hunter, bringing his hand to his cheek worried there was another reason to be embarrassed. “Is there something on my face?” 

“Nah, I’m just a visual leaner,” said Willow with a shrug, committing the word to memory for future use. 

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: (Home is) Wherever I’m With You

Reader Requests || Immy’s 200 Follower Event 🎊 🎉 🎊

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | event tag | rdr tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: @team-baku-is-blasting-off-again ((for my 200 Follower Event)) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: Angst-y H/C vibes that get NSFW at the end ((minors kindly fuck off, pls and thank)) ↠ CWs/TWs: Javier’s being over-protective like to a very uncool degree, as well as insecure in himself/his relationship with Reader. Likewise Reader has their own baggage/insecurities that don’t help matters at all. It all gets worked on and rectified by the story’s end, but feelings are indeed Hurt. ↠ Check below the cut for a more comprehensive list of tags. ↠ No betas—we die like damn near everyone you’ve ever dared to love in this damned series lol. ↠ Total WC: 14k~ ((my b, my uhh, my hand slipped??))

↠ Prompts:

“I’ll never be good enough.”

“Tell me to stop, tell me or I won’t be able to.” / “Then don’t.”

“No.”

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor…”

↠ In which what should be little more than a simple misunderstanding turns into something quite other. But no matter the storm, the pair of you are always willing to weather it so long as you can come home.

In which OP not-so-subtly simps for Arthur in the background lol. Let me love you, Mister Morgan, pls 😭

Sorry for the wait, dear requester. Between non-fun adult type stuff and my need to reboot in between fills this took far longer to write than what either of us wanted lol. Doesn’t help that there’s angst involved (which always induces a certain amount of metal strain); add to that the fact that three out of the four fills I got for this event were angst-y H/C type deals and you get an even slower turn around.

But anyways!

This is long—way longer than anything I intended on writing for this event, but tbh this is a work I already had partially done. It’s a short story that’s been hanging around in my drafts since January of 2019 (yeah, I know -_-), but despite how long it’s been since last I touched it, reading the prompts put me in mind of it right away. Here’s to hoping it was worth the wait!

Translations ((As always, if any of the Spanish in this is wrong feel free to take it up with Google Translate lol)):

No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien—No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine

Mi amor—My love

Joder—Fuck

Dios, soy un jodido idiota—God, I’m a fucking idiot

Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno—I’ll never be good enough

Mi corazon—My Sweetheart

Cariño—Sweetie

Siempre me tomas tan bien—You always take me so good

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

“So are you in or out?” Arthur asks as he reaches the end of his spiel.

The stagecoach robbery seems straight forward enough, but given the fact that everything the gang has put its collective hand to since the infamous Riverboat Incident back in Blackwater has gone tits up he knows you have a right to be wary. And you are, just a touch, though you hate to admit it. This string of bad luck has been hard on everyone and many bear the scars—both inside and out—to prove it, yourself included.

But you trust Arthur and you know that if this is a job he’s sniffed out himself that it’s probably solid; the fact that Charles and Lenny will also be tagging along means that the chances of success are just that much higher. The three of them usually make wise enough choices, last month’s misadventures in Valentine’s bar notwithstanding. You quickly agree before you can think better of it, and the smile that it pulls from the bearded man makes the potential risks more than worth it.

It had taken Arthur a bit to warm up to you when you’d first joined the gang, but once he did the pair of you fell into a close-knit, sibling-type relationship. A few people around camp—namely Sean, Bill, and damn near all the girls—had insisted that there had to be something more there in the time since, and it was only once you and Javier became an item that the rumors were (mostly) put to rest. The close nature of your relationship was actually the reason that it took Javi so long to ask you out. He’d been thoroughly convinced by the others that you and Arthur were sneaking around behind the gang’s collective back, and it wasn’t until you explained to him that firstly, you were adults who wouldn’t have to stoop to such a juvenile level, and secondly that you’d adored him from nearly the moment you’d met that he finally got past that foolishness.

Though it was annoying at the time you can’t say that you blame anyone for thinking you and your best friend had something going. Despite all his posturing to the contrary, Arthur Morgan is and always will be a far better man than what your lifestyle allows for, and a damned handsome one to boot, and well, you ain’t too bad yourself. You complement each other in a way that just seems ‘right’, apparently, but even if Javi hadn’t come into the picture your relationship’s always been destined to be a platonic one.

Arthur’s hurts are old things that run deep and jagged, tainting his perception of everything—himself especially. Both life and love have never looked on him kindly, and so he’s stopped expecting to receive the latter. Of course this has never stopped you from extending the sentiment to him after a fashion, but years passed and experiences gained have taught you that trying to force feelings when they just aren’t there will only ever end in heartbreak. Because of this you’ve never pushed for anything more and the pair of you are all the closer for it. Having him in your life has definitely made it fuller in so many ways, and it’s a blessing that you’re always striving to return, so whenever you get him to smiling like this you always feel as if you’re one step closer to your goal.

“Great,” he drawls, pushing off of his knees as he rises from the milk crate-turned-chair. “We ride out at the end of the hour so be ready. And make sure your gun’s actually loaded this time.”

His comment earns a few snickers from the others that share the space with you, though most of them quiet down when they feel the weight of your stare. The only one who doesn’t is Tilly, but then again the woman knows that you’d sooner kick a dog before ever doing anything more scathing to her than glaring.

“Wasn’t. My. Fault,” you grit out as you chuck an abandoned tobacco tin at his back.

A drunken prank compliments of Sean had led to a mildly embarrassing incident involving a bet and some bottle shooting, and nearly a year later you’ve still yet to live it down. Though he teases you about it now, Arthur had nearly taken the Irishman’s head off at the time; had the blond not challenged you, you could’ve easily found yourself unknowingly unarmed in a situation far more dire than a simple test of skill.

For his part the man just chuckles as he tosses a sarcastic “Sure” over his shoulder.

“Jerk,” you mutter, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“Want me to kick his ass?”

Had the voice not been so familiar you might’ve been startled by its sudden nearness, but the dulcet cadence is one that you know better than even your own. Unfortunately you’ve not been hearing it nearly as often as you’d like these past few days. Between duties to the camp and following leads in town, you and your man haven’t occupied the same space for any extended amount of time outside of sleeping together—done in the most literal sense, sadly—and even that’s been choppy as a you’d both been assigned guard shifts that made your overlap damn near nonexistent.

Javi’s just finished one such shift and it shows. His usually warm eyes are dull with fatigue and his posture’s a bit stiff from the strain that comes with making rounds of the area for the better part of the last several hours, but despite it all he’s just as handsome as ever and your pulse quickens as it always does whenever he’s near.

“Mmm, maybe later,” you say with half a laugh as he plops down on the log next to you. Depending on how this job goes down you just might take him up on that offer—if the law doesn’t beat you to it, that is.

For his part the man just snorts before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. He wraps his arms around you then and hoists you over into his lap, heedless of the scalding contents of your tin mug. A few moments of careful shuffling—and an unnecessary amount of cooing from Tilly and Sean—later sees you comfortable in your new seat. Javier had told you once that holding you like this feels like home, and sitting here with his head resting heavily against your shoulder and his hum of contentment warm against your ear, the statement rings especially true. Your free hand smooths over the pair of his where they rest against your thighs in a loose clasp, your fingers mapping out the ever increasing expanse of nicks and scars that mar the skin there; one scab feels especially fresh under your touch and you know that it’s compliments of yet another five-finger match, though who his opponent was you couldn’t say.

“You want something to eat, Javier?” Tilly asks from where she sits next to you—or rather next to your previous spot. Her thin, nimble fingers are making quick work of the trousers she’s mending with a level of skill that could put many-a seamstresses to shame.

“No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien.” (No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine.)

The young woman giggles at that. “Poor thing. You must really be tired because I didn’t understand half of what you just said. Sure sounded pretty though.”

“It always does,” you agree. Hearing Javi speak in his native language is truly a thing of beauty and, in your opinion, there isn’t much out there that can rival it.

He chuckles a bit at that, but makes no further comment. When you ask if he’d like a cup of coffee or even a sip of your own he turns this down too. “I’ll eat before I go to sleep,” he promises before you can get on him about looking after himself. “I just want to stay like this for a bit, mi amor. I’ve been missin’ you.”

His words leave your heart aching in the best of ways, but before you can reply a commanding bellow of “Miss Jones!” rings out across the camp. To Javier’s credit he doesn’t jump like the rest of you, but this is probably due him being far too tired to react in time. Everyone, from Dutch on down to Kieran, respects—and in some cases, fears—Ms. Grimshaw, and with good reason. The woman’s mouth can put any military official to shame, and her right hook is the stuff of legends. Anything with even the smallest amount of self-preservation knows not to get in her way when she’s scented her prey; the way the material of her skirt flutters out and away from her as if attempting to not further impeded her stride only serves to punctuate this point.

“Why ain’t you helpin’ out Mister Pearson?” she continues on as she comes to stand directly in front of the woman in question. “You’re not a goddamn workin’ girl, we don’t pay you to sit around on that ass of yours an’ look pretty.”

The blonde snorts loudly into her mug. “You don’t pay me at all.”

“Oh, love—no.” Sean’s plea is little more than a breath from where he sits beside her. Reckless though the young man may be, even he knows that there are some fights you just don’t pick.

“That girl’s really gotta learn when to keep her fool mouth shut,” Tilly comments under her breath.

“Is she drunk?” Javi asks. “‘Cause she sounds drunk. And it’s not even eight yet.”

You shrug as much as your position will allow. “I haven’t seen her drinkin’ anything other than coffee, but that don’t mean nothin’. She was goin’ at it pretty hard last night, though—she could still be drunk from yesterday.”

As the three of you converse the other two women continue to go back and forth, with volume and tempers both steadily rising all the while. Ms. Grimshaw might be a pill, but she’s a fair and caring woman in her own way. She never assigns anyone more than their due, and is always willing to work with anybody that’s suffering from an illness or injury severe enough to keep them from performing their duties properly. So long as a person’s able to provide for the camp in some major way—be that via money, labor, or acquiring much needed provisions—she generally leaves them alone.

Unfortunately for Karen she’s been bringing very little to the table as of late, well besides that lead on Valentine’s bank. Despite the fact that she’d pitched it well over a week ago she’s quick to bring it back up yet again for what little good it’ll do her. Even if Dutch does okay the job it’ll still take at least another couple of weeks of reconnaissance and planning before he’ll even think of making a move on the place which means that the blonde’s “–got one iron in the fire, but no damn legs to stand on”, as the older woman puts it.

“Well they’re not workin’!” Karen yells lamely, gesturing towards where you’re currently all hugged up with your boyfriend.

“That’s because I’m getting ready for a job!” you quickly call out. The last thing you want or need is one of Susan’s lectures on ‘pulling your own damn weight.’

“Sure don’t look it,” she shoots back in yet another blatant attempt to get the attention off of her. “Not unless you’re chargin’ your man by the hour these days.”

Her words leave Javier quaking with near silent laughter and he earns a sharp elbow to the ribs for his troubles. His apology comes in the form of a kiss placed just behind your ear, and though it’s a chaste thing you still feel a shudder run up the length of your spine. It’s been damn near a week since the two of you have had the combination of time, energy, and the minimum amount of needed privacy to do much more than some heavy petting, and given the state of your libidos, a week’s more akin to a month.

Of course he notices the way his kiss affects you, and of fucking course the jerk decides that now would be a good time to pepper more of them along the column of your neck. Knowing that telling him to stop will only lead to him doing something far less innocuous you decide that ignoring him to the best of your ability is the better course of action. If anyone else takes issue with his amorous display they keep it behind their teeth; whether this is because they’re too used to seeing shit like this by now, or out of fear of what the man’ll do to them if he thinks they’ve offended and-or embarrassed you, you cannot say—though if you’re being honest you know it’s probably mostly due to the latter.

“Fuck you Karen, I’m helping Arthur ‘n’ ‘nem rob that stagecoach outside of Valentine.” Your voice only catches once as you speak and you count that as a victory.

“You hear that, Miss Jones? They have an actual task to tend to, but you? You’re just sittin’ around–”

The rest of Ms. Grimshaw’s tirade is lost to you when Javi breathes a quiet “Qué?” into your ear.

“Oh, right, guess you wouldn’t ‘ve heard yet. Arthur’s got a lead on some rich fucks that’re passin’ through the area on their way to Golden Planes so me, him, Lenny, and Charles are gonna hit ‘em up. Should be a pretty decent sized haul from what I gathered. Apparently the feller’s some actor preparing for a role by ‘roughing it’ like us common folk, ‘cept not really since he’s got himself a nice little caravan-type-deal goin’ on complete with all the comforts that he’s so accustomed to.”

You roll your eyes hard at the absurdity of it all. You remember hearing a traveling preacher once say something about a fool and his money being easily parted, and while you’re pretty sure that armed robbery’s normally considered to be a sin in this case you just might be doing the Lord’s work. The thought leaves you snorting out half a laugh as you continue on.

“The man sounds like a asshole, and a dumb one at that. Hell, given why he’s on this fool’s quest we just might be helpin’ him out—ya know, lettin’ him experience the true grit of America’s untamed land and the hounding terror of the roguish gangs that rove its planes, or, yanno, some equally flowery bullshit. Anyway, it’s pretty poorly guarded, relatively speaking, and sure to be full of loot if Arthur’s contact is to be believed—and I’m sure she is. Barmaids hear everything and she’s sweet on Arthur besides. She’s been doin’ everything she can to help ‘em in hopes that he’ll take more of an interest in her, the poor girl. She’s so hung up on him she can hardly see straight. Kinda wish I could tell her better, but she probably wouldn’t believe me anyways.”

You aren’t expecting too much in the way of reply aside from a snort of amusement, or maybe even an offer to come along, really anything but the growled “No” that you get.

“Excuse me?”

You couldn’t have heard him right, you think, but then he says it again.

You lean off to the side so that you can get a better look at him. His expression is just as straight forward as the uttered word and twice as hard. You arch a brow as you look from the pursed set of his lips to the banked fire in his eyes. He’s clearly upset, though for the life of you, you cannot understand why.

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor. I don’t want you anywhere near something that risky.”

You scoff loudly at that. Who does he think he is? That you are? There have only ever been a few people in your life that could ever even begin to think of forbidding you to do anything, and they’ve all long since died, so needless to say Javier Escuella is not among their number. And that’s not even touching on his blatant disregard of the skills that you’ve earned through the literal shedding of your blood, sweat, and tears. You can handle yourself just fine, and had been doing so for literal years before you even knew he existed. You’re not some goddamn damsel from out of one of Mary-Beth’s books, and you’re definitely not looking for someone to save you. When you tell him as much he just sighs.

“I never said you were. I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Well you’re sure as shit not actin’ like it,” you give back. He sighs again before muttering something under his breath in Spanish and for some reason that makes you even angrier. “If you’ve got somethin’ to say, Javier, then say it. And at a volume that I can actually hear, if you goddamn please.”

“I said, you’re acting like a child,” he bites off.

“I’m acting like a child? Me? Are you fuckin’ serious right now? You’re the one that started all of this!”

“I didn’t start anythi–”

“Oh so the whole ‘you’re not going’ bit—that wasn’t you startin’ it?” The sound you let out is a bitter shadow of a laugh. “I lost my father a long time ago, Escuella, and I’m not lookin’ to replace him, least of all with my goddamn boyfriend.”

He pinches his eyes shut in frustration. “I’m not trying to replace anybody! Fuckin’– I just want you to be safe.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I never said that you couldn’t.”

“Then what are you sayin’?” you demand with a toss of your hand. “‘Cause from where I’m sittin’ it sounds a whole damn lot like you think I’m too fuckin’ incompetent to get the job done.”

When the only reply you get is a hard, agitated breath you just nod your head. “And there it is. Hm. Well, regardless of your estimation of my skills, Mister Escuella, I’m more than capable of handlin’ a simple robbery. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’ve a few things that need doin’ before I go and I don’t want Arthur and the rest waitin’ on my account.”

You give him a look when the arm that bars you in doesn’t immediately fall away. Javier meets your stare then and the tumultuous mix of emotions that you find in those warm brown irises leaves your indignation faltering, but before you can even begin to make an attempt at deciphering any of it he’s dropping both his eyes and his arms.

No further words are exchanged, though the small part of you that’s not currently pissed the fuck off feels as if you should say something. Leaving things like this is hardly wise, especially since there is a possibility—relatively slim though it is—that you may not come back, but you just can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. Javier has stepped squarely on a rather sensitive nerve, and that he can’t see that, that he won’t make the first move to apologize…

It hurts more than you care to admit, even to yourself.

You’re both adults and should be able to talk about this like the reasonable people you usually are, but you can’t be the bigger person right now. For a long time people had put you down and made you feel as if you and your abilities had no real worth and you believed them. It had taken years for you to realize that they were wrong, that you’ve always had value beyond anything they—and even you yourself—could ever know. Your self-confidence is a thing hard earned and you’ll die before you ever allow anyone to strip you of it again. Having one of the people closest to you threatening it, unintentional though it may have been, hits you hard and you just can’t.

Don’t. Won’t.

As you go you feel more than just Javier’s eyes on you. It seems as if you gave the gang a show to go with their morning meal and the thought leaves your face uncomfortably warm. Where’s Abbi and John when you need ‘em? you think as you make your way back to your tent. When compared to the screaming matches that the pair of them frequently engage in what you and your man had done can hardly even be called a proper fight.

Abandoning the mug that you hadn’t even realized you were still carrying, you grab everything you’ll need from the little box that sits tucked away in the shared space of your makeshift shelter; afterwards you head over to the medicine wagon and collect a few items, just in case worst comes to worst. Now fully kitted out, the only thing left to do is join Arthur and the rest over by the horses—which means cutting through the middle of the camp. Eyes forward, shoulders squared, and face set in a way that says ‘stay the fuck away’ you head towards your destination. Thankfully the pointedly unwelcoming combination works as intended and the short trip is blessedly uneventful.

Arthur and Charles are both in the process of loading up their horses, but Lenny is nowhere to be found. You breathe out a sigh of relief at that as it would’ve been beyond mortifying if your argument had caused you to be the last one to arrive.

“Gents,” you greet as you approach your horse. The cheer that you infuse the word with sounds fake, even to your own ears, but if the men pick up on this they don’t mention it.

You’re sure that your spat with Javier hadn’t been loud enough to reach them all the way over here, but gossip in the camp spreads faster and easier than legs in a cathouse so they’ve probably gotten an embellished account by now. Thankfully the pair of them are some of the most kindhearted men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and they won’t pry or shame you for your actions regardless of what they’ve been told.

True to form, they greet you in kind before asking if you’ve seen the youngest of your little party, and you shake your head. “Thought he’d be over here by now,” you say with a shrug.

“I swear to god if that boah’s still sleepin’,” Arthur mutters as he turns his eyes back towards the camp proper. Charles is already one step ahead of him, however. Sitting atop Taima gives him a better vantage and he easily spots the teen over by Strauss’s wagon. The older man doesn’t even bother with looking himself, instead choosing to scream, “Lenny! Get the molasses outta yer ass, boah!” across the expanse.

Lenny picks up the pace at the beckoning. Long legs carry him across the distance at a decent clip and within a minute he’s sliding up next to you. He gives Arthur a sheepish grin as he shrugs helplessly. “I uhh, I had a hole in my pants, man; had to get that seen to first.”

Remembering the trousers that you’d seen Tilly with before you look him over and—yup. Same ones. The sight leaves you huffing in amusement, but the feeling is quickly shadowed by everything that came afterwards.

We were okay, fine ‘n’ fuckin’ dandy—how the hell did that change so fast? You quickly shake the melancholy away. Now’s not the time or place to deal with your personal shit; distracted minds only ever lead to people getting hurt or worse.

Unaware of you inner turmoil, the men share a laugh before moving on to talking about the plan.

“Alright,” Arthur starts, “Charles is gonna ride on ahead and look for a good ambush spot outside of town, and I want one of you to go with ‘em.”

“I’ll go,” Lenny offers, as eager to help as ever.

His older flashes him a smile as he claps him on the shoulder. “Good man. That means me and you,” he nods his head in your direction, “are heading into town. Ruth says that they’re not supposed to be leaving out until sometime after ten, but I’d rather keep eyes on them all the same.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug.

“I already have a couple of places in mind,” Charles says as he gives his horse a few loving pats to the neck, “so it shouldn’t take too long. Want us to meet you back in Valentine after?”

Arthur nods. “It’s better if we’re not all seen in one place, so you two should head on over to Keane’s. I’ll linger around Smithfield’s, and ____ can take the hotel. Sound good?” When he gets answers in the affirmative he gives a gruff hum of approval. “Good. Alright folks, this should be an easy one, and if everything goes accordin’ to plan we’ll be done well before noon.”

“Aw come on Arthur, don’t say that,” Lenny moans as he swings himself up into Maggie’s saddle. “You’ll jinx us for sure.”

“Never took you for the superstitious type,” Charles comments.

“Never was, not before all this. I’m not usually one for all that ‘curses and bad juju’ stuff, but with everything that’s been goin’ on lately–”

The rest of their conversation is lost to you under the sound of their steeds’ combined hoof-falls. You and Arthur both mount up yourselves then before following after them at a more leisurely pace. A comfortable silence lingers as you steadily make your way towards Valentine and not for the first time you find yourself being distinctly grateful that Arthur is who he is. He’s not one to meddle, but he’s always there to offer an ear or a shoulder to cry on when you need it.

And he thinks he isn’t a good man. The musing leaves your lips twisting wryly.

“It’s nice to see Charles opening up more,” you comment after several long moments have passed. And it really is. You liked the man from the moment you met him, and more often than not you found yourself seeking out his quiet presence when things around camp got too rowdy. Charles has mastered the fine art of being and you can only hope that one day you’re as at peace with yourself as he so often appears to be.

Arthur hums his agreement. “Yeah. He’s a good one, that Charles—one of the best Dutch has brought into the fold in a long while.”

Unlike Micah, the unspoken subtext reads. You, like most people in the camp (and probably the world at large) can’t stand the rat bastard, but you also don’t feel like talking about him either. That man exhausts you to no end, and you’re fairly certain that just saying his name aloud has the potential to shave several hours off of your lifespan. Thankfully Arthur doesn’t seem too keen on bitching about him at the moment—odd given that it’s one of his favorite pastimes, but ‘gift horses’ and all that.

“You should’ve seen what he did to Uncle last night, nearly drove the old lush crazy,” he tells you around a laugh before laying out the scene.

Apparently the man had tried to strike up a conversation with his younger over supper only to have every starter shot down with one word answers. By the end of it all Uncle had walked away red faced, frustrated, and in dire need of something stronger than the beer he’d been drinking.

“And-and Charles, he just–” a hard spurt of laughter, “he just looks over at me and the rest of the boahs and he’s got the sliest little smirk on his face and we just lost it. He knew what he was doin’.” Though the retelling leaves much to be desired, the mirth in your brother’s voice is contagious and you find yourself laughing as well.

“That is funny. Wish I could’ve seen it for myself.”

“Mmm. Guard duty’s a bitch, huh?”

“Who you tellin’? I know why we have to do it, but dammit if it doesn’t get up my ass. At least I got one of the better shifts this time around. I was barely able to stay awake long enough to finish my stew, but at least I got a full night’s rest. Plus I didn’t have to worry about waking up Javi, so…” His name is out of your mouth before you realize it and just like that your mood loses what little levity it had managed to gain.

The man at your side sighs, though the sound isn’t one born of impatience or long-suffering; he’s always hated to see anyone within the gang at odds with one another, but especially people that are as close to him as you and Javier.

He flicks up the brim of his hat so that his eyes are fully visible when he looks over at you. “If you wanna talk about it…”

“I… I do,” you admit with a sigh of your own, “but I also don’t, not right now at least. Work first, emotional bullshit second—yeah?”

“If you’d like,” he drawls back.

You smile at him then, small and grateful, before reaching over the gap and giving his arm a squeeze. “Thanks.”

No more words are exchanged after that, none are needed. He gets it, gets you—so how is it that the man whose affections are supposed stretch far beyond that of a brother’s doesn’t?

They aren’t coming back.

Clink. Thud.

Not that they should.

Clink. Thud.

They can do better than you. Already have, really.

Clink. Thud.

He is perfect for them, has known ‘em longer, understands them in a way that you probably never will. They have history; no matter how hard you try, there’s no competing with that.

Clink. Thud.

They’re perfect together—they should be together.

Clink. Thud.

And what else did you expect? You already had your shot at love, how could you possibly think that you’d get another?

Clink. Thud.

And on the off chance that you did—have—how do you know it won’t all be snatched away from you again?

Clink. Thud. THWACK!

Javier embeds the axe into the stump with enough force to send large splinters of wood flying out from around the heavy metal head. An especially wayward piece nicks him just under his left eye, but he’s too numb—both inside and out—to notice the sting of it. His thoughts have been relentlessly following the same misery-fueled loop of self-degradation since he’d watched his amor ride out of the camp this morning.

Things had gotten awkward fast around the firepit, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was as if his body and mind both ceased all higher functions once he let you out of his arms, leaving him with only the capacity to hollowly stare after you as you went about readying yourself to go. Your movements were hard and jerky as you checked over your weapons and filled your pouches with tonics and salves, as clear a sign of your anger—your rage—as you were willing to show. And when you had walked past him to get to the horses… It was like he was air to you, no less than that. Some useless thing that was undeserving of even a scrap of your time or attention. Your expression was hard and your eyes blank as you passed him by without so much as even a parting glare and that’s when he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had fucked up bad.

His amor is done. Their relationship is done. And it’s all his fault.

“Joder!” He hisses out the curse as he sends one of the newly quartered logs flying with a hard kick. It’s mildly satisfying, seeing the chunk of wood sail through the air, so he kicks another one. And another, and another. It’s only when the last one lands some several feet away that he pulls the axe from its resting place to start in on the pile of lumber once more.

“Dios, soy un jodido idiota,” he all but growls as the tool’s metal head embeds itself in the wood’s pale center. “Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno–” (God, I’m a fucking idiot. / I’ll never be good enough.)

“I’ll admit my Spanish isn’t the best, but I know the sound of a man beratin’ himself when I hear it.”

Of course Hosea would be the one to come find him. He’s the only one with enough balls to approach him when he’s this pissed and welding an axe, but also enough heart to actually care—the bowl of stew and bottle of beer he holds are both further testament to the latter.

“If I said that I was fine, would you believe me and go away?” the younger man asks between chops.

Hosea chuckles a bit. “Given that you were mumblin’ to yourself somethin’ fierce just a few seconds ago—no. Look, if you don’t want to talk about it I’m not gonna make you,” he assures him. “But what I am gonna ask you to do is to sit down for a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because workin’ yourself half to death won’t help anything.”

“What if I don’t care?”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Well then I do, and I can guarantee you it’s more than enough to carry the both of us ‘til you come back to your senses.”

He cuts his eyes over to the conman. “My ‘senses’ rode out of here this morning  without so much as a backwards glance.”

“So I saw,” Hosea starts as he moves to sit on the repurposed barrel. “Does this mean that you want to talk about it then?”

Javier groans loudly as he embeds the axe into the stump once again. “No. Dios mío, Hosea, please—just drop it.”

“Fine,” the man concedes with a shrug. “I’ll drop the subject, you’ll drop that axe, and we’ll both go about the rest of our day.”

“Is that an order?”

“Don’t get your hackles up, Mister Escuella—givin’ orders is more of Dutch’s thing than mine. I’d much rather lay out your options and hope that you’ll make the best choice.”

“Yes, because clearly I’ve been makin’ quality decisions all day.”

Eyes nearly as dark as his own pin him with a pointed look. “While your sarcasm isn’t appreciated, it is telling. There’s no point in cryin’ over spilled milk, my boy—all you can do is clean up the mess and try to move on. Stewin’ over what you should’ve done or said isn’t helpin’ anything. Calm yourself, get some food in your belly, sleep if you can; you’ll need a clear head if you want to fix things between the two of you.”

“How can you sound so sure?”

“Well I was married for nearly fifteen years,” Hosea reminds him. The smile that accompanies his words is as bittersweet as it always is whenever the topic is broached, though as he looks the younger man over it softens. He nods for Javier to take the seat next to him and after a few seconds of hesitation he does; when offered the bowl and bottle he accepts them without further prodding. The patriarch waits until he’s got a few good spoonfuls in him before speaking again.

“You know, the pair of your remind me a lot of me and my Bessie. We had our fair share of rough patches, especially when I couldn’t settle into the humdrum of domestic bliss she seemed so intent on—but that’s a story for another time,” he says with a wave of his hand. “The point I’m tryin’ to make is this: if you both want to make this work, you will.

“Some people think that being in love means never havin’ to say you’re sorry, but that’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard. Love is all about sayin’ you’re sorry and forgivin’ in turn. It’s reachin’ consensuses and occasionally conceding, but never compromisin’. And above all else it’s all about how much work you’re willin’ to put in. The sentiment alone won’t keep you afloat—you have to choose to stay together.”

Javier has to admit that that all makes sense—even if it takes him several long, thoughtful moments to do so—but–

“What if they don’t want to? What if they don’t come back?”

“Oh they’ll definitely come back.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well it’s actually quite simple, Mister Escuella,” Hosea starts with a chuckle, “it’s because their home is here.”

The sound he makes in reply is equal parts rude and dismissive. “This place isn’t home to any of us, Hosea.”

“Not here, as in the ground we’re standing on, dear boy—their home is you.”

His first instinct is to argue, but there’s so much confidence in the old man’s voice that he finds himself faltering. If someone who’s on the outside looking in can believe it so emphatically, why can’t he? His amor completes him in so many ways, and they’ve told him countless times now that he does the same for them… Surely they wouldn’t throw all of that away—their love away—over one stupid little fight?

They wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Not so long as he has some say in it.

If, once all is said and done, they still wants to part ways he’ll let them go, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let what they have die without a fight.

“Ahh, now there’s the right kind of fire!” Hosea stops just short of clapping him on the shoulder, having long since learned that his younger isn’t overly fond of undue contact. Instead he gives him a broad smile before using his knees as a push off point to rise to his feet. “I know it all feels like a bit much, bein’ your first major spat and all, but when you sit down and think on it rationally, nine times outta ten you’ll find that it’s not such a big thing.”

Javier’s reply comes in the form of a noncommittal huff followed by a long pull from the dark tinted bottle. His continued sullenness only serves to make the old man smile.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Mister Escuella, but I’ll get there yet. In the meantime please try and get some sleep. None of us want to see you passin’ out from exhaustion, and that’s to say nothin’ of the tongue lashin’ you’ll get from Susan if she thinks you’re making a burden of yourself.”

“With all the wood I just chopped, both she and Pearson should stay off my case for a while yet.”

“True. Which is why you shouldn’t bother with any further tasks. Take a rest–”

“I’d rather take a bath,” he admits. Thanks to the tight schedule he’s been forced to keep it’s been damn near a day and a half since he’s had an opportunity to do more than a cursory rubdown and he’s long since started to feel grimy.

Hosea hunches up a shoulder. “Fine then. Bath first, sleep after, yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

The older man gives him a smile and a nod before leaving him to finish the rest of his meal in peace. Now that his mind isn’t so weighed down with sorrow he’s able to enjoy the freshness of the rabbit meat and the fine blend of herbs that accompany it—compliments of Charles’ snares and one of Mary-Beth’s ‘acquisition jobs’ in town respectively. Within a few minutes the bowl is empty and the bottle soon follows suit. Not looking to make more work for the ladies than necessary, he takes both over to the washing station and cleans up his mess before gathering up what he needs and heading down to the river.

The bath does wonders for his mood, with every swipe of the rough cloth over his skin rubbing away a portion of his self-loathing and doubts, and by the time he’s dressed in a fresh set of clothes he has mostly come back to himself. Taking advantage of the noonday sun he doesn’t gather his hair up as he usually does but instead leaves it to hang loose. Though the feeling of the heavy, damp locks against his neck is unpleasant he knows it’ll be dry soon enough. As he plops down onto his makeshift bed, his lover’s scent wafts up to greet him; it leaves his heart twisting with longing and just a little bit of dread, though he’s quick to push the latter away.

Soon, he promises himself. Soon they’ll come back to this place—back to his arms, back to their home—and when they do the pair of them will talk this thing out and reach an understanding, he’s sure of it.

“Now I do want to thank you all so very kindly for your cooperation,” Arthur starts as he swings himself up into his saddle and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

It seems as if spending the better part of his life under Dutch’s tutelage has endowed him with the same grandiose flair that plagues your illustrious leader, and you can only thank the Almighty that he doesn’t indulge in it overmuch.

“Now remember: going back towards Valentine will get you nowhere—well, nowhere you’ll want to be, anyway. The only place there’s a future for you is out there, across the Dakota at Wallace Station on the train that waits for you. Right?”

A dozen-plus voices, shrill with fear and just a touch frantic, rise up in agreement; the owners of said voices are tied to the wheels of the ransacked wagons that sit before your little group of outlaws. Though they’re all more or less in the state in which you’d found them, they’re a bunch of gentle folk; all it took to cow them were a few well-placed shots and some rather colorful language.

Arthur and Lenny had walked them through tying themselves up while you and Charles had made sure that there weren’t any enterprising guards among them lying in wait. In the end it hadn’t taken you more than a solid twenty minutes to get them squared away and their valuables stashed on your respective horses. All the while the captives behaved as they were expected to. Crying, cursing, praying—all typical responses to being held at gunpoint and relieved of all your worldly possessions–

“Thank you for this, sir! I won’t soon forget the lesson you and your compatriots taught me here today!”

–and then there’s Slias Spatchcock.

Apparently the man’s some type of up-and-coming actor known for his portrayal of outlaws like yourselves. You can only shudder to think what that says about the state of the industry as a whole because this jackass can barely tell the business end of a pistol from his goddamn elbow.

Arthur had entertained a few of his questions—mostly just as a way to get the idiot to shut up—and in exchange the man had promised to model his next performance after the “–rough ‘n’ tumble gunslinger, whose eyes are as green as jade, but as hard as flint.” You’re pretty sure that nobody besides you had noticed the slight flush that had crept up the older man’s neck at the words, but you’re enough, really. You’d never tease him about it, he gets enough shit from everyone about everything as is, but you like to think of it as further proof of his allure.

Everywhere he goes just about every one of every gender finds their eyes trailing after Mister Morgan for one reason or another, though he’s loathed to notice this, let alone admit it. Hell, even now, with several of the women (as well as Silas) looking up at him with a curious combination of lust, fear, and anger he still doesn’t see it.

“See that you don’t, Mister Spatchcock,” the man of the hour replies with a tip of his hat.

“Here.” Charles’ voice is much louder than usual in deference to the distance between him and the captives; the dull thud of a knife embedding itself into the ground just a few scant feet away from one of the men’s boots punctuates the extremely short sentence. “Remember—if you try to give chase we will shoot to kill.”

It’s with this last grim reminder that the four of you set off back towards Valentine. Once you’re a good ways away you find a nice secluded spot to divvy up the loot. Surprisingly there isn’t too much of note in the haul; a decent amount of jewelry, some actual cash, and a few books whose value is found in their ability to entertain. Of course the camp gets its due right off the top, but you’re all still left with nearly sixty dollars and a few trinkets apiece. With that last bit of business taken care of you all go your separate ways.

Charles turns back the way you came, citing a need to make sure your victims don’t get any cute ideas. Lenny’s heading back to the camp to drop off the offering as well as to catch some sleep before his shift on guard duty, and you can only assume that Arthur will be joining him; this leaves the three of you to fall into step as you headed back towards civilization.

The men chat as you go—mostly about the heist itself, with Arthur giving his younger a few pointers—and you’re content enough to let them talk around you. Though the mildly euphoric feeling of a job well done rests warm in your chest, you can’t quite shake the melancholy that still shrouds you. You rather enjoy this particular aspect of your life, being a Robin Hood for a new generation, and the only thing that makes it better is having the people you love best at your side as you partake in it. You’ve always loved pulling off jobs with Javi, and you had thought he felt the same, but the way he acted this morning…

You sigh heavily as you mentally push the thought, and the anger that follows it, away; you’re not going to let him ruin the rest of this day for you. In fact, you’re going to treat yourself. You’ve already rented a room at Saints as part of your cover, and you don’t see any reason why you should let it go to waste. Yes, a nice hot bath will do you a world of good, as will a decent meal–

And the camp’s doing pretty well for itself. Between all of us workin’ and Charles and Arthur’s huntin’ skills we aren’t exactly wantin’ for too much. I could get myself something nice, maybe look into getting a new part for my pistol…

Lenny’s farewell snaps you back into the present and you return it with a nod of your head, as well as a warning for him to look after himself. The young man huffs a bit at your words, but doesn’t brush them off completely—can’t, not with the manner of luck you’ve all had lately. After one last tip of his hat he’s spurring Maggie on as they speed back towards the Overlook.

“You’re not going with him?” you ask your brother. He’s been running himself especially ragged these past couple of weeks and you’d thought that he would jump at the chance to sleep in his own bed.

“Much rather sleep in an actual bed,” he replies when you say as much. “Besides there’re a few things I want to do in town before we inevitably get run out of it.”

You laugh a bit. “Fair enough. Would you… care for some company?”

Despite your bond the question is posed tentatively. Arthur doesn’t take nearly enough time for himself and you feel no small amount of self-loathing for impeding on his rare allowance, but you’re not exactly thrilled with the idea of being left alone with your thoughts right now. Thankfully the “Sure” you get is quick and genuine.

“Feels like forever since we’ve done anything, just you ‘n’ me. But first I’d like to take a bath, if you don’t mind. I’ve got to smell like a goat’s ass by now and can’t look much better.”

“You’re not alone there. Meet you at Smithfield’s in a couple of hours then?”

He tosses you a wink that leaves you scoffing. “It’s a date.”

Freshly scrubbed and donned in the clean clothes you always leave stored on your horse’s pack, you meet a rather dapper Arthur in Smithfield’s Saloon at a quarter past three. Apparently he hadn’t spent quite as long soaking his cares away as you did; his hair and beard both have been seen to, with the former being a good several inches shorter and well tapered on the sides, and the latter not nearly so shaggy as last you seen him. You let out an appreciative whistle when you slide into the chair across from him at the table for two.

“Lookin’ sharp, Mister Morgan.”

“I–” He stops short when he sees the look on your face. You’d already told him to lay off that self-depreciating bull, and while you’re sure he still gets up to it when you’re not around, when you are he knows it’s a no-go. “Thanks,” he starts again. “You’re lookin’ mighty nice yourself.”

There’s nothing special about the plain ensemble you’ve thrown on, but you don’t feel the need to contradict the statement. “Well thank ya kindly, sir. Now what’s a fine specimen such as myself gotta do to get a drink ‘round these parts?”

Arthur rolls his eyes even as he chuckles before heading over to the bar. A few minutes later he returns with two glasses and a bottle of mid-shelf whiskey. “I took the liberty of putting in our lunch order,” he tells you as he pours you both a measure. “They said it should be out shortly.”

You hum your thanks as you accept your glass. You have no idea what’s on the menu today, nor does it rightly matter; the place serves what it serves and either you eat it or you don’t. Luckily their house chef is a good cook, much better than Pearson these days—though to be fair to the man, up until very recently he didn’t exactly have the best environment or ingredients to work with.

The pair of you chat about everything and nothing, mostly just catching one another up on what you’ve been getting into since settling in at the Overlook. By the time the barmaid is bringing out your meal you’ve fallen into reminiscing about the members of your cobbled family that you’ve lost. You share a toast in their honor before digging in.

“So, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?” Arthur asks once your plates have been taken away.

You shrug. “I was thinking about investing in a new pair of boots since these have certainly seen better days, maybe a part or two for my pistol too. If there’s anything left after that I’ll pick up a few things for the ladies just ‘cause.”

He hums in that way he does as he leans more fully back in his chair, a truly contented smile playing at his lips. “Lookin’ to treat yourself then?”

“You sayin’ I don’t deserve it?”

“Not at all. Well if that’s what you wanna get into, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“I never intended to monopolize your time, Arthur. I’m sure the absolute last thing you wanna do is putter around from shop to shop with me.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assures you as he rises from his seat. You give him a skeptical look as he nods expectantly towards the door, looking for any sign that he’s being overly selfless again, but for a wonder he doesn’t seem to be putting on airs.

“Well far be it from me to turn down such a strapping escort.” Ignoring his scoffing laugh you finally rise as well and head out into the town proper.

Javier awakes to the smell of coffee, much to his confusion.

It’s far too late in the day for anyone to be brewing the stuff, and the sleeping area is purposefully situated far away from the ‘kitchen’ besides. It isn’t until sleep-bleary eyes land on the little crate-slash-bedside table that he finds the culprit: the mug that you had been nursing this morning.

His brain stalls hard as memories of the harsh words and heated glares you’d exchanged come flooding back.

“God, I’m such a jackass,” he mutters under his breath as he pinches at the space between his brows.

Had he been less sleep deprived then maybe things wouldn’t have veered off so badly. He hadn’t meant to insult you or try to assert some control over you that he most certainly knew he didn’t have—he just wanted to keep you safe. That’s not so unreasonable, is it? He doesn’t think so, not with the way things have been going since the Massacre. In the time since the pair of you haven’t been apart too often, his brief trip into Valentine aside. And even then he hadn’t been too keen on the idea of leaving you alone, even if you were within the relative safety of the camp.

Logically he knows that you cannot be tucked under each other’s arms twenty-four seven—your responsibilities, as well as your sanity, won’t allow for that, but… Javier Escuella has always been a man who often times puts heart before head. It’s a habit that has gotten him into more than a few scrapes, but what went down between the pair of you may be his biggest blunder to date. Still, he has to believe that he can fix things. Even the darkest of nights have a dawn, he knows—I just need to find my sunlight.

To that end he quickly scrambles to get dressed before checking the time. It’s just a little past three in the afternoon. He has no idea when you all were set to hit up that caravan, but with any luck you’re already back and cooled down enough to tolerate his presence again.

People extend him more grace than what he probably deserves when he exits his tent, treating him as they normally would despite him showing his ass earlier. Unfortunately nobody has seen hide or hair of you, which is strange given the fact that half of the crew you set out with returned over an hour ago.

Charles and Lenny had rode in separately, with the former having broken away from the group early on. He had assumed that the others were heading back to camp, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What’s more the only one that would more than likely know where you are is fast asleep and Javier doesn’t want to wake him. That would be a dick move and a display of desperation that—well, he’s not exactly above, but not quite at the point of just yet.

“If they aren’t here they’re more than likely still in Valentine,” Charles tells him. “That would make the most sense as ____ rented a room there.”

The outlaw can feel his face harden with this new bit of information. While he knows there’s nothing more to it—to you and the man that is your brother in everything but blood—that treacherous little part of his brain that never fails to remind him just how inadequate he is when compared to the likes of Arthur Morgan rears its cruel head. Though he stays quiet it’s very obvious to the other man exactly what roads his mind have traveled down.

Charles gives him a disapproving look as he shakes his head. “Don’t do that, Javier. It’s a disservice to yourself as well as the both of them. Neither of them would ever betray your trust like that, and ____ would certainly never disrespect themselves or your relationship in such a way. I don’t know what you’ve gone through to make you think otherwise, but you’d be better off putting those issues to rest sooner rather than later.”

Though the unsolicited advice grates, Javier hears the wisdom in it. Old betrayals and past hurts have left their mark in mind and heart both, but if wants to have any hope of recovering and moving on—if he’s ever to have a real and solid future with you—then he has to move past it all.

From character to aptitude, never once in all the time that he’s known you have you ever given him any reason to doubt you in any capacity. You’ve only ever been good to him; radiating a kindness that warmed him from the inside out to melt away the ice around his heart so that love could blossom once more. How could something as inane as insecurities, ones that he’d convinced himself that he’d come to terms with long ago, come between that? Why was there ever even any room within him for that to take root and fester in the first place?

He knows the answer to this of course, and it’s a simple thing: because he let it. Had he at least tried to deal with his inner demons sooner instead of just sweeping them under the rug then maybe the pair of you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You really are a jackass, his brain silently reminds him yet again, as if it had no parts in this disaster once so ever.

Aloud, he breathes deeply before saying—admitting—“You’re right. I, uh… Thanks, Charles.”

The man nods before turning his attention back to the knife he’d been sharpening. Taking the sign of dismissal for what it is Javier heads over to the stables. He knows that fixing things won’t be so easy as uttering a simple two word apology, but as he preps Boaz for travel he’s positive that it’s definitely the perfect place to start.

“So, about that ‘emotional bullshit’…?”

You can’t help but to snort a laugh at that. “As tactful as ever.”

Arthur shrugs, chuckling a bit himself. “Never claimed to be anything other than what I am, you know that.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug. “As for the ‘bullshit’, I… I don’t even know what went wrong, honestly.”

As you proceed to lay out the whole of the situation to him, Arthur mostly keeps quiet aside from the occasional hum of acknowledgement. Once you’ve gotten it all out he goes quiet for a long moment as he considers all that has been said. When he finally does speak again he isn’t saying anything that you don’t already know, but hearing it from an outside source gives it more weight than what your thoughts alone could provide. He speaks of context and meaning, inferences and biases, and how at the end of the day you shouldn’t allow what’s little more than a simple misunderstanding to impede on what it is that you and Javier share–

“–but that’s just my thoughts on the matter. I’m nobody’s Romeo, as you well know–”

“That’s probably for the best, given the way that particular story ended.”

“Smartass. You know what I mean. But in all seriousness, I think things’ll work out in the end so long as you’re willin’ to let ‘em…” He lets the sentence trail off with a resolute nod as he takes a cigarette from an intricately engraved tin—an actual present from an admiring actor, overly-eager to please. He offers you one, shrugging again when you decline, before lighting up.

“You make it all sound so easy,” you reply as you fiddle with your bracelet. The simple gold number’s a gift from Javier for your birthday just passed, one made all the more special by the fact that he had gotten himself one to match.

“I know it’s probably not the best time to be thinking about rings and the like, but…” His words had left you both blushing at the implications as he secured the thing around your wrist with uncharacteristically shaky hands. “I still like the idea of letting the world know you’re mine, just as much as I’m yours, even in this small way…”

“That’s because it is easy,” Arthur assures you, snapping you out of the brief reverie. “Just because I’ve got shit luck with love don’t mean I don’t know it when it’s sittin’ squarely in front of me. The two of you are made for each other, and no doubt about it, but your being perfect for each other doesn’t mean that you’re actually perfect. You’re bound to make just as many mistakes as the rest of us, especially with you being so close to one another.

“Toes get stepped on, feelings get hurt—it’s only natural. The only time you need to worry is when you feel like there’s no coming back from it. You don’t feel like that, do ya? And before you answer, I’m gonna need you to push all of the dramatics aside and think on it logically.”

The look that you give him says that you can do without the sass, but you do as you’re told all the same, not that it takes much prompting. You’re hurt, sure, but even that isn’t as prominent as it had been this morning. Now you mostly just feel sad over the fact that you’re at odds with the man you love; sad and a touch embarrassed at your very public altercation. This isn’t going to be the end for the pair of you, of this you are sure, but it does shed some light on areas that you both need to work on if your relationship is to be a long and healthy one.

After letting out a drawn out breath you say, “I– No, I don’t think that at all. Clearly there are some issues that need to be addressed, but it’s nothin’ so dire as all that. I know that Javier would never purposefully hurt me in any manner any more than I’d do so to him. We both just let our emotions get the better of us this mornin’, but that ain’t exactly surprisin’, all things considered.”

Your brother hums his agreement. Though things have been markedly better this past month that isn’t saying much. The gang has only just begun to fish itself out of the mire, but there’s no saying when fate’ll decide to throw you right back into the shit. You’ve collectively got the temperament of a beaten cat, and honestly thinking on it now it’s a miracle that you and Javier managed to go this long without really snapping at each other. When you say as much Arthur laughs hardily as he gives your shoulder a fond pat.

“And just like that you’re finally able to see the forest for the trees. You’ve pretty much solved your own problem there, not that I’m surprised. You’ve always been a smart one, ____; I knew you didn’t need me telling you what you already know. All there is left to do now is kiss and make up.”

There’s an amused tilt to his lips as he jerks his chin at some unseen point behind you. You arch your brow at him, but when all he does is grin wider you turn around to find–

“Javier.” He’s here. He’s come to you.

Seeing him standing outside of Saints loosens the last bit of tension in your chest. Your feet carry you forwards without any conscious thought on your part just as Javier’s seemingly do the same. Ignoring your brother’s quip about him “–actually wanting to get some sleep tonight, so try to keep it down, alright?”, you pick up your pace until you’re standing face to face with your man.

Javier breathes out your name like a prayer to some higher power, eyes traveling over the whole of you almost as if he cannot believe that you’re actually right here in front of him. Tentative hands reach out for you, stopping just an inch short of touching, though you’re quick to bridge the gap. Despite the fact that it hasn’t even been a full half a day since last you saw one another, those interim hours felt like they ran longer, colder—and how could they not, with the way you’d left things?

An apology is slipping from between both of your lips at nearly the same time, a thing that leaves Javi taken aback.

“No-no-no,” he starts, head shaking hard, “you’ve got no reason to be sorry, amor. It doesn’t matter how worried I was, I never should’ve said what I did—or, at least, not the way that I said it.”

“But I do need to apologize,” you insist. “I know you would never belittle me like that. The way you said it definitely could’ve been better, but… I shouldn’t ‘ve, I dunno, come out swingin’ like that. I’m better than that, we both are, even if we didn’t exactly show it.”

“I… Alright then. This, uhh… This went down a lot smoother than I was expecting it to, honestly.”

You laugh a bit a that. “Yeah, well, I guess us both being at fault make it easier to forgive and be forgiven.”

“Yeah,” he replies, voice a touch sheepish, “guess so.”

You smile then, soft and sweet, as you cup his cheek with your palm. Javier is quick to lean into your touch, his own lips curling up as well before he turns to cuddle them against your hand. The tickle of his mustache against the sensitive skin causes your fingers to twitch against him, but his own hand comes up to cover yours and hold it in place; he trails his ministrations down the length of your arm, heedless of your shirt, until he’s able to kiss you properly.

Javier licks hotly into your mouth, greedily swallowing up the least little sound you make even as he strives to draw more from your throat. His hands drift down to your hips to pull you in closer as he continues to stake his claim on your lips with teasing nips and soothing swipes of his tongue that you succumb to with a sigh that is content, if laced through with longing. Your hands curl feebly against the silky brocade of his vest, needing something—anything, really—to help keep you grounded. But for all your efforts, you’re sure that the only thing keeping you upright is the arms that have since coiled around your middle.

You know that your not-so-little display of affection has to be scandalizing the good people of this small town, but neither of you have a mind to care overmuch. It isn’t until a familiar voice tells you that “You’ve already got a room, goddammit, so kindly go and use it” that you finally decide to make the short trek into the hotel’s interior. Either the receptionist recognizes you, despite the man that’s all but affixed to your face, or he wisely chooses not to confront you—again, due to the man that’s all but affixed to your face. In any event you make it to your room without incident, with Javier only pulling away long enough for you to open and then quickly close the door behind you.

When he kisses you this time it isn’t nearly as frantic as before. He’s thorough, taking his time as he remaps the whole of your form with eyes and lips and hands, as if he were actually able to forget the look and feel of you in such a short span of time. Or maybe his touch is more reverent than that, an act of worship for the body that he thought he might never be able to touch again—it would certainly explain the promises to do better for you and by you that he’s been steadily murmuring in between kisses.

There’s a ceremony to the way he removes your clothes, and it turns the simple act into a supplicant’s display of devotion. The hesitancy that he’d shown earlier is nowhere to be found as he traces over the lines of you now with calloused fingers and heated breath. There is no part of you that goes untouched, no bit left unseen, and by the time the last article is removed you’re left naked in more ways than the obvious.

Still on his knees from where he helped you out of your pants, Javier looks up at you with an expression that can only be described as awestruck, though as he kisses his way back up your body it changes into something a bit more love drunk.

“Mi corazon,” he sighs as he cradles your face between his work-rough palms, “so beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky, huh?”

You’re sure that he can feel the heat that creeps into your cheeks at that, and you’re quick to cover up your flustered state with another kiss. What starts off as an innocuous little peck soon turns into something that has you writhing against one another. Javier captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving the plush flesh a little suckle before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He owns the kiss, owns you—body, heart, mind, soul—and all you can really do is receive this outpouring of affection and lust.

When he finally pulls away some long moments later he doesn’t go far. His forehead leans heavily against your own as his hands pull you tighter against the bulge that has been growing impossibly harder this whole time.

“Tell me to stop, amor,” he says, the words breathed directly against your parted lips, “tell me right now, or I won’t be able to.”

You regard him through half lidded eyes that flutter close as you sigh out your simple reply of, “Mm, then don’t.”

And he doesn’t.

Slow ministrations are replaced by harried breaths and eager fingers and the all-consuming need to touch, claim—to feel and be felt in turn. It transforms the removal of his clothes into a nearly feral affair, one that sees seams ripping and buttons popping. Later you’ll both come to regret the fruits of your impatience, but in the now your only real concern is the more-more-more your bodies are crying out for.

Javier backs you up until you’re tumbling backwards onto the bed with a startled squawk. He follows you down with a chuckle, a dark and deep roll of a sound that would’ve surely turned your knees to smoke had you not already been lying down. Of course your man knows the effect he has on you, and ever as always he’s quick to take advantage of it, telling you to lie back so that he can “–love on you a bit, yeah?”

He leans back just enough for you to make yourself comfortable and then he’s on you again. Hot, opened mouth kisses are slurred from jaw to neck—where he stops to leave a few bites and sucks that are sure to blossom into bruises come nightfall—and beyond. His trek stops just past your bellybutton, with him nosing at the skin there. He looks up at you then, eyes impish as he takes in your mussed state and annoyed pout.

When you whine out his name he responds with a cheeky “Yes, amor?” that leaves you gritting out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh.

“Your eagerness is cute, baby, but you’re gonna have to use your words.”

“Ugh, fine! Fuckin’– Touch me, please.”

You realize your mistake a moment too late. And when he’s laving over your nipple, its twin caught between teasing calloused pads, you know that you have no one but yourself to blame.

“Patience is a virtue, cariño,” he reminds you when you start to whine, his thumbnail giving your nipple a pointed flick. “Now be good, and let me have my fun. It’s been too long since last I had you writhing all pretty-like underneath me, and I’m gonna take my time with you…”

When he puts it like that how can you do anything but lay back and receive his care?

Suckles that leave you sighing out his name are punctuated by nips that see the appellation scaling up into a whine. Tugs and pinches and the scrape of blunted nails—the roughness is always followed by something to soothe, and the dichotomy leaves you writhing with anticipation.

“Ja-vi~” the second syllable sticks in your throat as the pleasure-pain of an especially vicious pinch shoots through you, “ahhh, fuck! Please. I-I need…”

The desperation in your plea sees him finally pulling his attention away from your chest. You have no idea what it is he sees when he finally looks at you properly, but it softens his gaze. His expression goes gooey as he comes to hover over you; the position that he takes up is familiar, but one that long hours and disparate schedules have lent a level of elusiveness. Having it—him—back leaves you almost delirious with several types of longing. You want everything, from him and with him, and you want it all at once. The whole of your desire is laid out on display, you’re sure, but there’s no shame in it—and how could there be, in a love so pure?

Needy hands reach out and are instantly quelled by a warm body that is more than willing to oblige. The heated press of lips is accompanied by wandering hands that drag themselves along your torso. With experience guiding him, he alternates between feather-light caresses and purposeful strokes, always choosing the one that will leave you gasping out your pleasure into your shared kiss.

By the time he finally reaches your center you’re soaked, a thing that comes as no great surprise to either of you. Javier runs playful fingers through the proof of your arousal, gathering up a portion and smearing it across their pads before popping them into his mouth. You swallow thickly as you watch the near hypnotic way his tongue laves over the digits’ length, damn near cum on the spot when he slides the whole of them past his lips with a satisfied groan. You both know exactly what it is he’s doing to you, but that knowledge does little to detract from the provocative display.

When he releases his fingers some long seconds later they’re still glistening, albeit for another reason entirely, and you find yourself biting your lip at the sight. For his part Javier just smirks at you as he comes to lean into your space once more.

“Fuck, you always taste so damn good, baby.” As if to prove his point further he kisses you hard and deep, his tongue dragging heavily along yours to make sure you’re able to savor the fullness of your tangy musk.

His laugh is breathy when he finally pulls away with a little smack of lips—lips that he licks soon after, almost as if he cannot bear to waste even a smidge of your flavor.

“I gotta get a little bit more of that– You don’t mind, do you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Heh. Didn’t think so…”

His tongue is molten when it finally drags along the length of you. He groans deeply as he laps up the fluids that all but coat your twitching sex, and the vibrations leave your hips bucking wildly against his hold. It’s a practice in futility as every pass of the slick muscle against your heated flesh creates a bigger mess for him to clean—not that either of you are complaining.

Pursed lips suckle at your weak spot in a move that leaves you keening while long, calloused fingers prod at your entrance. The sheer amount of pre alone would probably be more than enough for him to slip comfortably inside, but he spits anyway—the hot, viscous glob allowing him to slip two fingers inside in one go. Pain and pleasure briefly mingle at the stretch, though the discomfort soon fades out leaving only a burning want that has you bearing down. Javier curses hotly at the added pressure against his digits, his movements’ efforts redoubling as he strokes and prods at your fluttering walls, focusing in on that spot that always leaves you seeing stars.

“‘M close,” you tell him, the words so slurred that you barely recognize them, “‘M close, so damn close, baby—fuck!”

“Mmm, then do it, amor, cum. I wanna feel it, taste it– Give it to me.”

With how wound up you are it doesn’t take much more than a few rolls of your hips to send you careening over the edge. A week’s worth of denial sees your orgasm washing over you with all the force of a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely as it drags you into an abyss of pleasure. The gasping of your man’s name is prayer and plea both—for just as he is the only one that could ever lead you to this beautiful ruin, he’s likewise the only one who can see you through to calmer shores.

“So good for me, pretty baby, cumming like that. God, you’re beautiful.”

Though he has been steadily murmuring such words of praise since you first fell apart, you’re just now lucid enough to fully comprehend them. You feel your face flush even as your core gives a nearly painful throb. You know it’s greedy of you, wanting more when you’ve only just come down from your high, but that’s what this man does to you—and thankfully for you as well.

If your eyes are alight with flames then Javier’s are a roaring inferno from where he hovers over you. He kisses you deeply, easily stealing what little air you’ve managed to take in before asking, “Think you can give me one more?”

The question is rhetorical, of course, but you give him a shaky nod anyway. He slots his hips in against your then, and the fit is as perfect as ever. Having him so close to where you need him most is too enticing a thing, and you find yourself rutting against him without thought. The drag of his heavy cock over your heat is exquisite, pulling whimpers and whines from you as you continue to grind yourself against him. You man humors you for a few moments, allowing you to wet his cock with your arousal—all the while a decadent little smirk pulls at his lips despite the light pant he keeps up—though once he thinks your efforts are sufficient he’s lining himself up and sinking slowly in.

“Fucking tight” he growls at the same moment you groan out something about the stretch. Were you any less wrapped up in your pleasure you might’ve laughed a bit, but as it stands you only cling to the body above you as he sets up a steady pace.

Javier takes you deep and slow, with the sinuous roll of his hips only interrupted by the little snap that punctuates them. You can’t help the breathy whimpers and choked moans that push their way out of your throat any more than you can keep your fingers from digging into his shoulders, scalp, arms, and any other bits of him that your restless hands can get ahold of. Javi is just as bad off as you, having dropped his head back into the cubby between your cheek and shoulder long ago to nose at your sweat-slicked neck, the hot, wet drag of his tongue against the overly-sensitive skin there oftentimes turning into a nip or suck. His moans are almost deafening from this close, the feeling of them breaking hot and moist against you making you shiver.

“Dios, ____, baby, amor—fuck, I’m–” The rest of his sentence devolves into a growl that originates somewhere deep in his gut. “Ooooh just like that, baby, siempre me tomas tan bien. (You always take me so good.)

“I’m close,” he starts again, “so fuckin’ close, I can—hah! I can tell you are too. You wanna cum with me, yeah? You gonna do that for me, amor?”

Your replying nod is frantic as you pull him impossibly closer. “Yes, yes—please, I wanna…”

Javier promises to give you what you want—what you both need—and he delivers with hips angled just so and calloused fingers furiously rubbing against your most sensitive area.

Thoughts turned hazy from your mounting bliss whiteout completely before fireworks erupt throughout the whole of your being. You arch hard against Javi’s hold on you, hips bucking in spastic little thrusts that you could never hope to contain. Your shuddering sob of a moan holds for an impressively long time before petering out into something weaker as you finally collapse back onto the bed.

For his part you man rides the wave of your body, somehow managing to match your jerky movements enough to see himself through to his own end, shuddering his way through his release. With his eyes pinched shut and your name falling from his lips like a litany you’d almost swear that he was petitioning some exalted being. You cannot help but to admire his beauty in this moment, pushing his hair away from his sweat-slicked face before running your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks as you wait for him to come back to himself.

Once he finally settles, Javier presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth before maneuvering you both so that you’re tucked in against his side. His fingers skitter back and forth over your ribs as he presses a few more kisses against your dewy skin in between declarations of love and praise. The moment is tender and perfect, everything you want and need, so why do you feel like you’re on the verge of tears?

You push back against the prickling heat that stings your eyes and tightens your throat, burrowing in deeper against Javier’s side in hopes of comforting yourself as well as to keep the sudden burst of melancholy hidden away. It’s not something you want to deal with right now, not when your emotions have been all over the place for the better part of a day, but Javier has always been able to read you like an especially well-loved book. He urges you from your hiding spot with gentle hands and soft pleas for you to “–look at me, please, baby?”

When you finally gather up enough courage to meet his gaze your heart stalls for a beat or two. There’s just so much love there—raw and unfiltered—that you almost cannot bear to hold his stare, but something within you, perhaps that selfsame unadulterated love, won’t allow you to turn away.

“No tears, sweetheart,” he murmurs despite the fact that any have yet to fall. “I’m here, and I’ll always be here. Always. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your voice is small, and your smile laced through with something vulnerable when you ask, “You promise?”

“I promise. There’s nowhere else for me. My heart, my home, my whole entire life—it’s all in you, amor. Wherever you go, I swear I’ll always be right there, by your side.”

His words are simple, deceptively so, but they’re your shared truth and they’re more than enough.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[thatlowiqbabe]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write something for HoO boys being your boy friend? Also, do you think it’s possible for you to do a trans (ftm) hispanic demiboy? Thanks!

Oh yeah sure! As a Demi-Boy it's my duty!

This is over 900 words so there's gonna be a part two (sorry bout that)

HOO Boys with A Hispanic!Demi-Boy! S/O

Frank Zhang

"Wait your a demi-boy? Like cause you're a demi-god orr"

"Oh okay, totally unrelated gotcha."

You probably came out to Frank after the Son of neptune, scared you'd never get the chance to tell him.

He asked some silly questions but obviously accepted you! He would do more research via internet but demi-gods and phones don't mix

(What do you mean he's been asking other trans demi-gods how to better understand, you obviously got the wrong chinese-canadian shape-shifting son of mars)

Anyway he loves you, and tries to switch pronouns often ❤️ (if you use multiple)

If you're ever feeling dysphoric, he'll turn into an cuddly animal of your choice to make you feel better.

Will turn into a bear and (threaten to)  eat a transphobe

(They probably taste funny lol)

(If you're bilingual) You, him and Jason sit in a circle and speak in spanish, canadian french, and latin, knowing damn well y'all don't understand each other.

Y'all be looking like this

Don't even try having Thanksgiving with him

"Happy Thanksgiving!"

".... I'm canadian."

"Oh, uhhh happy thursday then??"

Like sir, do you want some turkey or not?

Jason Grace

"So wait, if you're a demi-god and a demi-boy do they like cancel each other out?"

"I- baby no—"

"Can I call you God-Boy?"

Y'all give him a minute, boy brain ain't right after getting knocked out so many times 🤣

Being called God-Boy does make you feel powerful ngl

You probably "dated" during hoo, and after you started dating for real came out to him.

Uses both pronouns, like every other paragraph. (If you use multiple)

If you're a greek demi-god, he loves to take you over to Camp Jupiter, and take you on tours around the parthenon and go on dates

If you're roman, he takes you out to Camp half-blood and maybe even tour manhattan!

(Gotta be a group date though, he's been at Camp Jupiter since he was 3 and only left on quests, he don't know where he going)

(If your bilingual) He'll teach you latin if you teach him spanish! It's always cool to know another language, especially if you're partner speaks it.

If you're dysphoric, y'all take naps together.

You don't have to stress, whatever's outside can wait a while, right now it's just you and him ❤️

You're his little God-Boy, he loves you

What do you mean he specifically asked to do whatever chores you had that day? Uh-huh couldn't be him 🛑🖐️ stop playing

Don't let him meet your mortal parent

Boy be so nervous he don't know what to do

"Jason, dear could you pass me the (fav. Food) "

"Yes  (Mr./Mrs/Mx.) L/n, I will have a ham sandwich "

"..."

"..."

"..."

He left with a ham sandwich and a red face

He got invited back over, so it wasn't too bad tho lol

Leo Valdez

He already knew you were a demi-boy!

You probably came out to Leo before y'all started dating, and maybe before y'all knew you were demi-gods, he just has that "yes I'd beat a bitch's ass and lose, and what about it?" Energy y'know??

Obviously you could trust him.

Will try to to use both pronouns, but might stick with one for a while before switching it up and then sticking to one again

Y'all probably talk shit about people together honestly.

Let's be honest, if you were bilingual, with a boyfriend who was also bilingual, and y'all didn't like this one person you'd talk shit right in front of them.

If you're really petty you'd make it obvious too.

If you're ever feeling some dysphoria, don't worry cause Leo got dis-for-ya!

Iamsosorry

But seriously he'll build you tiny trinkets and stuff to help you feel better

Greatifyoureahoarderlikemelol

If you want, you could help him with building, or even build something yourself!

(You: somehow builds a bomb or something equally dangerous

Leo:

)

Y'all like to make smores, and probably sing the campfire song from spongebob while doing it

(Whether it's on Leo or an actual campfire depends on y'all mood)

"OUR C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E  S-O-N-G SONG"

"Hey, you did it without stuttering this time!"

Nico di Angelo

"So you trans your gender??"

"Uh no, I'm transgender, it doesn't work like that—"

"How do you trans your gender?? Is it a like a process to get your gender trans or does it happen all at once?"

This boy a whole boomer, lord have mercy 😭🖐️

Growing up in early 1900's he doesn't really understand, but he'll try.

If he feels like he's bothering you with too many with questions, he'll go bother Annabeth instead.

Uses both pronouns, despite not knowing how you can have more than one. (If you use multiple)

Will do his best to get rid of any internalized transphobia he might have. Even if he grew up around Bianca, it was a hateful time back then and he might have biases.

You're dysphoric, but how??

He understands how dysphoria works, as much as it pains him to know that you're hurting, he didn't understand how it could effect someone like you.

You were much braver than he was, not being outed and actually coming out on your own. You were the man you said you were and more.

Sometimes y'all just lay down outside under a tree and he'll sing to you.

(Y'all know I'm talking about Soldatino don't even play)

Those days can go from bad to okay to great, depending on what y'all do afterward.

Sometimes y'all go out to eat at McDonald's via shadow travel, and I hope you got cash cause the seven gonna want some too lol (this includes Rachel and Will btw)

"So you're ordering (big af order) to go, for just the two of you?"

"We're eating for nine."

"No baby we're eating for eleven remember?"

Cashier, who's just trying to earn they minimum wage:

I don't know how to end this lol

Um part 2 will be out soon, maybe like a day from now if I don't forget lol

Thank you for requesting! I hope it was up to your standards, if not then I hope you enjoyed it anyway, cause I enjoyed writing it!

If you're interested in my writing pls request, I only have one other to do so it might be done soon!

Also, I hope Leo's bilingual hc isn't offensive in anyway. I'm just realizing how rude that may sound. If it is I'll write a new one. I'm not bilingual but if I was that's what I'd do. Again, I hope I didn't come off as ignorant on that hc.

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Banana Bread (part 1)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: probably T for mature themes (implications of sexy times and violence). It will go up later ;)

Summary: You share an apartment wall with Javier Peña, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get to know him. You didn’t think your baking would be the catalyst (read: Javi is jealous that Connie gets all the extras).

Tags: Mention of blood; super vague description of wound care; alcohol; TW for Javi: you have FEELINGS bby

Word count: 2,791

A/N: I guess technically this starts at the beginning of season 1, but I don’t plan on referencing the events of the show, so imagine they’re working on things less intense than trying to catch Escobar. I found Javier really tricky to write for, so I hope this reads okay! I’m so excited about the future chapters I have outlined for this lol pls get hype.

Masterlist

---

You had only been living in your new place for about a month when you got new neighbors. You were glad for the company- the four-apartment building was fairly new, and didn’t feel very lived-in. You did your best to add some personal flair to your apartment, but it still had the effect of reminding you of your own newness to this place, your lack of any deep personal connections.

Your other neighbor didn’t exactly help with that. Javier Peña had lived here for awhile before you moved in, but that was all you knew about him; you didn’t speak much beyond your neighborly greetings and his insinuating smiles. He never hides his lingering glances, but nor does he make any other moves- you sense he’s a safe type, all bark and no bite (without consent). So you always amusedly but politely ignore the invitation implicit in your exchanges. They don’t seem to have a lot of depth anyway, as if he’s just trying for the sake of trying. Granted, he probably never has to do much more than that- you’re very aware of how attractive your neighbor is on the surface. You just prefer to feel a connection slightly deeper than surface level before going home with someone.

You learn more about him from Connie, who tells you that he works at the embassy with her husband, Steve. In “janitorial services.” You raise a bemused eyebrow at that, but respect your neighbors’ privacy and don’t ask further questions. You help Connie get a job at a hospital a few blocks away from the one you’re a nurse at and promise to help her practice Spanish.

The building feels more lively now, and you’re happy to have a confidant upstairs, especially one who’s more privy to the life of your enigmatic hall-mate. You don’t know if it’s the neighborly care you feel for your new friend or if there’s some other unconscious change, but you begin to keep an ear out for Javier. You do share an apartment wall, although you don’t glean much through it. Some standard kitchen rummaging, television noise, the occasional bedroom guest (whose enterprises you try not to listen to, but damn if the man doesn’t have a perfect voice for after-dark activities). The most noticeable thing about him is the odd hours he keeps: sometimes in tandem with Steve’s schedule and sometimes not, you can never predict when he’ll be in or out.

--

Little do you know, you’re not the only one paying attention. Javier has spent many an evening alone with only whiskey and the television for company, but now there are other things to stimulate his senses. The smell of your baking filtering through the wall, even lingering in the hallway the next morning. The sound of you singing to the radio while clattering about the kitchen. Sometimes he turns the tv down to listen and imagines there being no wall between your two homes. What would his life be like with someone to infuse that kind of sweetness and light into it?

He doesn’t mean you specifically, necessarily. If, once or twice, your face jumps to mind while he’s taking care of himself in bed, he thinks nothing of it. You’re his beautiful neighbor- it’s a fantasy begging to be played out.

But damn if he hasn’t been tempted to make it a reality. He gets to taste your baking sometimes when you leave extras with Connie, and one day she catches his brow creased in a frown, distracted halfway through a slice of walnut banana bread.

“Javi,” Connie repeats, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah.” Javier snaps out of it, looking up.

“You’ve been staring at that piece of banana bread for a full two minutes. Is it gonna do a trick?”

He decides to lean into it, see what Connie’s reaction might be. “Only if the trick is getting me out of my pants. I don’t know a man alive who could resist the shit she makes.” He scoops another forkful into his mouth to prove his point, letting the rich, nutty flavor remind him of other places. Homes. Real homes, made of people, not the solitary kind he lives in now.

She rolls her eyes at his crudeness, but agrees. “You’re right about that. I don’t know where she gets the energy to do this after hospital shifts.”

Javier hides his next thought with another forkful of bread and a noncommittal noise. Wonder if she’d have as much energy for it if she had a man to tire her out. It was automatic, a question he couldn’t help debating with himself. Surely no one who spent that much time in the kitchen could have energy to spare on…other pursuits.

Connie is regarding him shrewdly. He avoids her gaze, focusing on finishing his plate in large mouthfuls to avoid the questions he can feel brewing. But he’s not quick enough. “Has she always brought you extras too?” she asks. Too casually, idling with her fork.

“No,” Javier says dismissively, and it’s not quite a scoff. “She wasn’t here long before you showed up. We’re not as close as you two.” Understatement. Did he sound sour about the fact?

Before Connie can ask any more questions he rises from his seat. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Tell Steve what I said.” With a nod of farewell, he turns and strides out the door.

--

One night you’re awoken with a start from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Heart pounding, you sit up, listening intently. You’d never felt unsafe here, but you’re aware of the potential dangers. What had woken you?

You hear a swear from the hall, and your muscles relax as you recognize Javier’s low voice. There’s a beat of silence, then a scraping, clinking sound. He must have dropped his keys. But then he grunts, and concern sweeps over you. You’re a nurse- you recognize the sound of a man stifling his pain.

There are long delays before each new noise that indicates an action. The doorknob twists as he grunts again, but it’s a moment before the key turns in the lock. It seems to take an age for him to get through the door; his motions sound clumsy before he closes it. Safe in the privacy of his home, so he thinks, he lets out a longer sigh, the pain and exhaustion now obvious in the sound. But you can hear his fumbling through the wall, and you worry your lip between your teeth. It is your place to go see if he’s alright?

Finally you decide that it is. You’re his neighbor and a healthcare professional, and it is your professional opinion that he sounded in-pain enough to warrant a check-up. Plus, you heard him that way before he got inside, you reason. So it’s not as if you were just being snoopy through the wall.

Just in case, though, you grab some muffins you made earlier as a backup excuse (once again mentally thanking whoever left the cookbook in your apartment). 11:30 isn’t too late for a friendly drop-by, right?

You knock softly on his door. “Javier? It’s me.” Nervous energy taps in your fingers. You’re never even been on his side of the hallway before.

There’s a shuffling sound, and the door unlatches. A narrow gap opens, into which Javier plants himself, and you immediately zero in on where he keeps one leg wedged behind the door. He leans into the elbow propped against the doorjamb above his head, while his other hand already holds a glass of what you can smell is whiskey. He looks like he would rather be anywhere but here at this moment. “Neighbor,” he greets dryly, a neutral expression on his face.

“Uhh.” You’ve never been this close to him before, and his appearance catches you off-guard. His usually combed hair is messy, waves tangling over his forehead, and he’s sweaty, the open collar of his shirt damp and the exposed skin gleaming with moisture.

Javier raises an eyebrow expectantly, taking a sip of his drink. His glances down at the plate in your hands, and it prompts you to speak.

“Hi, Javier. Uh, sorry, I know it’s late, but I thought I’d bring you some of these-“ you lift the dish “-before they come with me to work tomorrow. They’re banana bread muffins.” Your voice falters with your confidence. Your eyes can’t help but flicker over his face and chest, taking in the smear of dust on his jaw, the redness of the knuckles wrapped around his glass. Mostly you’re trying not to look at the leg he’s definitely hiding, which you can tell he’s keeping his weight off of.

--

Javier stares at you, not buying it for a second. His lips purse for lack of a cigarette to wrap around. He shifts the weight he has on his arm- damn, his leg hurts- and wonders what could have possibly prompted you to start bringing him baked goods now of all moments. “Why aren’t you bring those to Connie’s?” Like usual.

“Um, well-“ He sees your gaze finally drop to the leg he’s kept out of view, and too late remembers who got Connie the hospital job.

“I heard you drop your keys, and it sounded like you were in pain,” you confess. “I’m a nurse, Javier. I can help if you need it.” Though apologetic, your tone is firm, face sincere as you offer him aid. Him, your grumpy neighbor who does nothing but leer at you.

Well, he isn’t that proud. Javier sighs, and opens the door further. Your eyes widen as you see the long slice in his pant leg, blood still damp around the wound beneath. “Shit, Javier, what happened? It doesn’t matter, shit, sit down.” You surge forward without waiting for permission, tucking yourself under the arm of his uninjured side and steering him toward a dining room chair. Where he’d been about to sit down down and tend to the cut himself. He supposes your apartments mirror each other, but your familiar reaction to the layout still surprises him.

“Whoa, hey, watch the whiskey,” he exclaims, flailing out the arm holding the glass, taken aback by your sudden manhandling. With one hand still occupied by the muffins, you direct him solely with an around his waist and your shoulder propped under his armpit. He couldn’t have resisted if he tried. If it weren’t for the fiery pain in his leg, your hold would have him feeling a very different kind of heat.

You give him a look that says you won’t be fooled by his blustering as you deposit him onto the chair and the plate on the table. “May I?” you ask, kneeling, hands hovering above his wound.

“Oh, now you’re asking permission?” He scoffs in disbelief but waves a hand in consent, leaning back in the seat.

You scoff right back at him. “Look, I see blood, I make the macho men sit, okay? Why didn’t you go to a hospital with this?”

Javier studies you as you carefully lift the denim to peer at the cut on his thigh. He takes a sip of whiskey to buy time (as well as dull the stinging pain). You’ve put on a robe over what looks like pajamas, but you seem too alert to have just dragged yourself from bed. And yet...was that a pillow mark on your cheek? Just there, arcing from your temple to your jaw…

“Javier?" you're looking up at him, a touch of confusion on your face.

“Did I wake you up?” he hears himself asking.

Her gaze drops again. “No,” you answer. “Well, yes, but I fell asleep on the couch, so it was a good thing.”

Ah, that explained the pillow mark.

Finally you stand. Your hands rest on your hips, heedless of your fingertips smudged red with his blood. “It doesn’t actually look too bad. I have enough supplies here to fix you up. You stay here, take off your pants if you can manage it by yourself, and I’ll be right back.” And with that you whisk away, robe swishing through his front door.

Javier remains where he is, a bit stunned by this turn of events, your sudden insertion into his life. He shakes his head. Maybe whiskey and blood loss shouldn’t go together. He tosses back the rest of his glass anyway in order to wrangle off his jeans.

By the time you return, he feels more composed, if rather uncomfortably vulnerable, sitting in just his boxers with a bloody slice across his thigh. He watches silently as you arrange various medical supplies on the table and pull up a chair across from him. You perch on the edge of it and look at him before doing anything else. “Are you gonna tell me how you got this?”

He’s not about to tell you it was a fluke accident during one of Carillo's interrogations. Somehow, while his back was turned, the guy got free and tried to escape, swinging a knife wildly as he hurled past Javier. The cut was long, ugly, but shallow. He’d live. He couldn’t say the same for the man who delivered it.

--

Javier considers his answer. “Can’t,” he says. “It’s better if you don’t know.” His gaze skitters away as he speaks.

He works for the government with a poker face like that? “Janitorial work, huh?” you say dryly. Sighing, you reach for the antiseptic. “At least tell me what made it. So I can treat it properly.” You look at him steadily.

Javier looks back for a long moment. “A knife,” he says at last.

You nod, and rip open a packet of gauze. He sucks air through his teeth as the antiseptic sears the wound clean, but otherwise doesn’t speak while you work. Which is fine. You notice he’s drained his glass, and you empathize. Frankly you wish you had a drink yourself right now.

Once you’ve cleaned the cut it’s easier to see the damage. Which is minimal, thankfully. Most of the blood was probably from him moving around when it happened. You explain what you’re doing as you seal the wound closed. Only when you’re almost finished does he speak.

“Why don’t you ever bake me anything?”

It’s so unexpected that your hands still. You stare at him in astonishment, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What I mean is…christ,” Javier mutters. The unflattering fluorescent light overhead highlights the dark circles under his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face. “You always leave extras of stuff at Steve and Connie’s. Never here.” With me.

You resume your work on his thigh, surprised to feel a tinge of guilt. “You didn’t seem like a baked goods kind of guy,” you reply, hoping you don’t sound too defensive. It was true, after all. Though you never got a sense of threat from Javier, neither did he seem the type who would appreciate domestic gestures of friendship.

He didn’t look offended, however. I’ll try anything once,” he says, the ghost of a familiar smirk suggesting he’s feeling better. But then he leans forward, all traces of smirk vanishing. “And your lemon drizzle cake was incredible.” Javier looks at you seriously. His face is too close for your level of acquaintanceship, but you don’t move away.

Surprised, you assess him anew, wondering if you’re catching a glimpse of the man beneath all the masculine posturing. He’s nicer-looking this way, you muse. His face softer, brown eyes wide and sincere. You hide just how pleased you are at this insight (which you’re sure he has no idea he’s giving you) beyond allowing yourself a small smile.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll bring you some.”

--

Javier can’t quite find another quippy response, so he just gives a small nod, finding it hard to draw back even after you break his gaze. He tries not to fidget as you place a final strip of tape over the gauze bandage.

“There,” you declare, your work complete. “That should hold you for tonight.” You stand and gather up your supplies, giving him care instructions as you go. “Got it?” You seem much more relaxed than when you first arrived, confidence in your work squaring your shoulders. It’s…compelling, much more so than your usual reserved smiles in the hall.

“Yes ma’am.” Javier nods, not having heard a word. “…Thank you,” he adds, begrudgingly grateful.

You smile wryly at him. “Goodnight, Javier.”

You’ve nearly reached the door when he speaks again. “Javi.”

“Hm?” Pausing, you turn back to him.

He clears his throat. “You…you can call me Javi.”

Your smile is much warmer this time, brightening your eyes, and Javier feels his heart pound. “Goodnight, Javi.”

[sophiewritesworld]

Don’t mess with her boyfriend | Montgomery de la Cruz

Requested by anon (a while ago) : You & your blog are both amazing I have so much love❤️ could u pretty pls do a Monty x reader, her ex comes back to Liberty and approaches her trying to get back together totally ignoring Monty’s presence, obviously Monty gets annoyed and tells him to get lost, her ex starts dissing Monty.. let’s just say she’s a feisty one and nobody messes with her baby EVER, so she starts defending him and maybe even throws in a slap lol but that’s your call to make.. xx

Word count : 1.1k words.

 As you walked inside the crowded hall of Liberty, you felt some students weirdly stare at you but you just ignored it and walked over to your locker to get your books out for the day. You had a lot to do this week including convincing your parents to let you go to Jessica’s party on Friday. You were so deep in your thoughts until somebody pulled you out of them.  “Hey babygirl” You smiled and leaned back until your back gently collided with your boyfriend’s chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “I missed you.” He whispered to your ear before kissing your cheek. You turned around, grabbing the front of his shirt to steady yourself and kissed him, soft and slow. 

“De la Cruz, (Y/L/N), lay it off!” Kevin Porter shouted from across the hall, dragging the attention of most students around on you. Nothing unusual. 

“I missed you too.” You whispered against his lips before moving away to close your locker. By the time you turned around, your eyes landed on somebody who shouldn’t have been in Liberty. “You have to be kidding me…” 

“And that’s what I wanted to tell you.” Montgomery sighed. 

Your mood went from extremely happy, even though nobody is extremely happy on a Monday morning, to extremely angry within the matter of seconds. Standing a few feet away from you, with the rest of the jocks, was your ex boyfriend, the person you hated the most on earth, Noah. 

Jessica introduced you to Noah at a party over the summer before sophomore year. It didn’t take long before you started dating. You spent the whole summer together. And you did that terrible mistake of trusting him and giving yourself to him. You were in love. Or so you thought. By the end of summer, Noah moved across the country with his parents. A decision he knew about for months but never told you about. You got the news on the first day of school when Zach and Justin asked you about how you were going to manage a long distance relationship. It didn’t hit you right away. It hit you when you saw a new guy on the field with Noah’s number. It hit you when you texted him and he simply told you that he didn’t think it was that big of a deal to tell you. It hit you when everybody at school was talking about you. You went through the first half of sophomore year secluding yourself in the Library, studying and keeping yourself from seeing anybody. You were ashamed of how naive you were to trust Noah like that.

One day, while you were busy finishing your Spanish paper, Montgomery pulled the chair next to yours and loudly crashed on it. “Shhhhh!” Someone angrily looked at him.

“The fuck you want nerd?”

He was about to stand up and fight that innocent soul for hushing him that way when you grabbed him hand to stop him. “Don’t.” And he didn’t. He just glared at the young boy and looked at you. You didn’t even stop what you were doing. “What are you doing here? I’ve never seen set a foot in here before.”

“Wanted the test the ambiance.”

You chuckled shaking your head. “What do you think about it so far?”

“Sucks.”

“And how about you tell me the real reason why you’re here?”

“I got an essay to finish.”

“Liar.”

“I am worried about you.” Your head shot up in surprise. His signature smirk was replaced by a rather concernes expression. “You never leave this place unless you go home or to class.” At least in the school library nobody judged you, too busy studying. 

“I wanna pass. Is there a problem with this?”

“You’re a straight A student, you don’t need to put efforts to get the highest grades.”

“Maybe I do now.”

“Liar.” 

“Get out if you have so much to tell each other. People are trying to study here.” Another student loudly whispered to you.   

And you got out. You didn’t need people to notice you there. Montgomery followed you until you suddenly stopped and turned around to face him. “I am fine Monty.”

“Are you gonna keep lying to my face like that all day?”

“People keep talking about me, Monty. I hear them.” You sighed. “All the time and trust me, they’re not gonna drop the hottest tea in town so easily.”

“Let’s give them another one.”

“What?” The bell started ringing right at that moment and students were rushing out of class, filling the once empty hall you were standing in. At that exact moment, when some of them spotted you probably for the first time in days -or weeks-, Montgomery did something unexpected. He quickly closed the distance between you and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle and slow kiss. It took you one second to realize Montgomery was kissing you and another second to realize you were kissing him back. That was it. That was right. And that was nearly two years ago.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” You asked your boyfriend without looking away from Noah’s tall figure that could be spotted from miles away. Your blood was boiling inside of you.

Before Montgomery could say anything to try and calm you down, Noah saw you and walked over to you. “Hey baby, missed me?” His hand went to touch your cheek but you stepped back avoiding it. “Come on, I know you did.”

“How about you leave my girlfriend alone Carter?” Montgomery came to stand between the two of you. 

“You replaced me with this poor latinx (Y/N/N)? You know you can do better.” He was completely ignoring Montgomery’s words and pushed him to the side to get closer to you. “We can start over beautiful.”

“Fuck off, Carter.” A crowd was slowly forming aroun the three of you and the boys came right away to hold Montgomery back. But he wasn’t the one who needed to be held back. 

Noah looked at Montgomery who was trying to free himself from Jeff’s hold and chuckled. ’“Look at this attack dog, he can’t do anything but get into fights. What kind of future do you think he can give you?” 

No one had the time to make a move that your knee collided with his crotch and as he bent down in pain, your forehead violently collided with his nose, making him fall in pain, blood flooding out of his nose. “Wanna say that again asshole?”

Next thing you knew, you were sitting in front of the honor board under the very disappointed gaze of Mr Porter. You didn’t speak, holding the icepack the school nurse gave you against your forehead on which a bump and a bruise were forming while Noah was sitting on the chair next to yours, blood still dripping out of his nose and on his white t-shirt. It didn’t take long for the honor board to come to the conclusion that you were the one to be blamed for everything and got you suspended for two days. 

[the-acid-pear]

I did my homework and i did my chores, time to tackle on the third book of this series, Son of Ogre

Chapter 1

Okay but the fuck is Baki planning to do if he stops fighting? That's literally all he has, he's not smart

WOOH THATS A BIT REALISTIC

PREHISTORIC ELEPHANT?!

King just went to have a snack. Also FUCK does that meat look tasty FUCKKK

This baby so cute 🥺

I'm so glad Yuji is doing stupid hilarious shit again it had been a while

Congrats on Baki for that mantis

Chapter 2

Who tf is this kid?

Poor kid lmao, i assume he will meet Baki

Look at my boyyy

HSTSRFAYDF DON'T CALL HIM A MANLET

Imagine Baki actually kills this kid HSJDYSSHCBT

Third comment with a ton of likes is "we do not condone child violence. We do, however, find it hilarious"

Chapter 3

AH SHUT UPPP KIDDO

But i like Baki memeing a round a lil

Chapter 4

🥺🥺 that's so sweet...

HELLOOOO STRYDUM MY GOD YOUR TITS GOT FATTER SIR 😳😳

Yujiro is such a fucking threat to society lmao

I love seeing Baki with his eyes open, he's looking more like his old self

Oh, shadow boxing incoming, alright

Chapter 5

Yuri? 🥺 /j

THE RETURN OF IRON MICHAEL?!

Chapter 6

I love how there's our silly little mains after every cover LUV em <33

Baki just dissociating his ass out and using it on his favor, the king

Why is Baki eating sour prunes aren't those meant to be sweet?

We all salivating

Chapter 7

Love to see there are even more swears there now

I can put my face next to my foot too tho

FAGDRJSEHARD YUJIRO CAN BEAT THE CANCER HOW ICONIC 😍

Also i would LOVE to see Yuji fight an Orca

WHAT?!

I love how everyone in the comments is calling out Rumina for not seeing issue going down to a dark hidden basement with a shirtless man older than him

Chapter 8

"piggy back me" USHSYFLFUDSY

This fight is going to be good

Chapter 9

Imagine Baki dies right here right know against an imaginary mantis lmao

Okay Baki getting damaged makes sense but the WALL?

Baki's dead (GOD IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE SAID THAT)

Ffs it's true Baki COULD create himself a stand 😰

Chapter 10

OH FUCK IT'S TRUE

Chapter 11

This fight is so boring i had to take a 6 hour break

Baki just can't win against nature eh

This reminds me of Garland pulling a suplex on that Anaconda

Chapter 12

I can't wait for the main cast to ACTUALLY appear, instead of just, you know, them in the covers

This fight is slow but cool but slow

To fight a mantis you must think like a mantis 😎

Though it's true in this manga you will most likely win if you steal your opponent techniques so

Chapter 13

I MISS IGARI FUCKKK

This is so dumb i luv it

That mantis be swearing lmao

Love it when Baki goes full Yujiro

Chapter 14

TOBA...

Holy fuck do mantis fly?

Secret Chapter?

Is this how Yujiro got born?

Idk girl i would have killed him if i was you

WHAT.

I KNOW THOSE FROGS THEY ARE FROM PUERTO RICO I THINK

I might just be sleepy but this is so confusing

AKSHSKGSKSGSJSG JUST KILL THE BABY IT AINT THAT HARD

Chapter 15

GAIA...

Why is he like this?

Is "he" with us right now?

...gotta admit that IS true...

I love Strydum sksgwhwg

Yujiro really went XD

I don't think my man Arun in the comments is aware how gay what he said is, though maybe I'm wrong

Chapter 16

GOD THESE FUCKING COVERS MAKING ME SO NOSTALGIC, LOOK AT SPEC!

ANIME KENNEDY?!

I can't believe Bush is dead

AN ASIAN BOY HAS JUST KIDNAPPED THE PRESIDENT...

8 of January? My god he's a Capricorn

I'm sorry, what?

LAHQIGWKQFWKSFWIWG 😭😭

I love Baki so much, THIS IS THE KID THAT I MISSED SO MUCH

This explains why Baki was in prison clothes in the anime teaser

Chapter 17

BIG NUMBER

That one mf like 😐

Glad Baki is 18 now at least 😌

Love to see Oliva back

Chapter 18

This page not even bothering to charge the pages anymore

I'm sure there were better ways to go to jail, well, actually, no, but still

Toba used to just chew that off

Baki did that mantis hit you in the head too hard?

I. I watched way too many prison movies and shows. I don't like seeing someone as young and pretty as Baki in such a place. I rlly don't.

Chapter 19

Yanagi baby i miss you...

IRON MICHAEL?!

Mfkhsjsys 😳🥴

Eh got my hopes too high

CHE BAKI PIBE... LA PUTA MADRE NI ACA ME ESCAPO DE MIS COMPATRIOTAS

I hope he swears too i want to see a boludo o pelotudo PLEASE

I mean para pelotudos lo veo a Yujiro todo el tiempo pero igual JSGWKEGWG me pone bien argento ver al Che carajo

Chapter 20

HE SAID BOLUDO SUAHWKWGAKSGSKSGSKGD

I can't take this omfg new fav I'm sorry Doppo but he just said boludo 😭

Pendejo is more used as pibe here but i will let it pass bc idk the lingo in Cuba and he spent some time there so

Why don't i speak like this too ffs? All i do is say eh and call it a day

He's cocky enough to call anybody any age pibe so I'll let that pass too

Por favor no lo hagas che sksgwj

Chapter 21

Che, pibe, it's a good day to die...

Chapter 22

GSHAGSTSG he should have said "no boludo"

I'm falling in love with this boludo myself

That's talented and brutal

OH RIGHT YOU LOSE YOUR BALANCE WHEN YOU DONT HAVE THAT

Chapter 23

Hm that's, cringe

YESSS HE SAID PELOTUDO

OAHWLGWKQFSKSGSJS SIII ROMPELO TODO CHE, ROMPELO TODO POR DECIRTE YANKEE KSGSSJGS

Honestly i too get pissed off when called American or European, though i won't throw shit to Baki, he's some random 18 yo japanese boy, no way he would recognize latinoamerican lingo lmao

King shit Baki boy

Chapter 24

Oh that's why he's called Jun Guevara, that's fair

I like how they are mixing a bit of truth and a bit of lie it's fun at least

Chapter 25

I like how they are drawing nipples now, occasionally

I can't wait for Viêt to complain about propaganda in the comments

OH SHIT

😳 :Y

He's sooo nice 😍

Chapter 26

Only three? You mean the third is... 👁️👁️

HAHA YEAH YUJI-CHAN <3

I can't believe he works for the USA I'm crying and shaking rn

What a progressive manga, the three strongest and most dangerous men and none of them are white 😍

GET HIS ASS BAKI

Chapter 27

Why is this guy sweating sm?

LDYDYSUGFUDT BAKI PLS

I like how the only time Baki was willing to kill a person was when he thought Sikorsky had hurt his girl

Chapter 28

I feel like Ian will die

Man i love how Baki is drawn in this book

Ffs i called it, i have watched way too many prison things to know how shit goes down

I have seen these three before in fanart but I'm curious to see what they can do

Chapter 29

Their faces remind me of Doyle

OH I CANT WAIT TO SEE EM IN THE ANIME

ASSHOLE DON'T CALL ME STUPID 😢💔

I'm gonna struggle to tell em apart but i think I'll manage

Okay I'm not the only one who thinks they look like Doyle, fair

Chapter 30

The mouth vs Yujiro when?

Someone mentioned the have the same vibe as the dudes that worked with Gaia and like 👁️👁️

Chapter 31

Lmao someone in the comments recommended the same thing

These three must be great at sex (sorry)

KSHALDHDKD NEW FAV COMMENT: "go to Japan and look for the word "defeat". That way you won't feel cocky anymore"

Chapter 32

Hehe hello Junnn~

KSHAKDHKWGS

La luna

Chapter 33

LOS TRES...

Okay that's funny, hocico instead of mouth (hocico is used for animal mouths)

I'm so glad i know Spanish

The two things that drive me insane and make me ramble are Doppo's beauty and this stupid argentinian

OSHSKWGSKSG

Chapter 34

Imagine he's doing that illusion thing Dorian did

With his own blood, that's so cool...

Hoho...!

I did that once when i had a terrible nose bleed, didn't go well

Chapter 35

This book is fucking boring NGL

"now that you got no more urine left in you"

AH.

GAHDYR LMAO

Chapter 36

HO THAT TITLE, PLEEEASE I NEED SOMETHING, ANYTHING, TO HAPPEN

HHH he kinda cute...

Oww :(

JDJSJFRGAJ

God piantao is an old word i had never heard it before

AND he took a piss.

LOCO NO SEAS HOMOFÓBICO NINGUNA MINA ACA ES MEJOR QUE ESTE PIBITO TE LO ASEGURO SKSGSKGSJAAGS

Se me cayó un ídolo y yo que le quería dar 😔

ÑSHWQLSGOSGDKW

Let's see if he lied to Baki about just liking eh /j

Chapter 37

I luv Oliva lol

AJSGSKSLAGHS BAKI SNAPPED

I too wonder where the fuck Kozue is

Chapter 38

LSHSLDGSLSGSIEG

He is jealous of what you two have, it's normal, el Che just rejected his love after all ;/

Oliva is a king

OH A HANKERCHIEF I THOUGHT THAT WAS UNDERWEAR SHSGS-

Oh shit Oliva is like 45?! He looked so young

Te fuiste a la mierda, Che, el chabón estaba siendo re bueno con vos

Baki is just dead

Chapter 39

I love how realistic Che's fear is, he's rather smart, though not this time

POOR GUY AJSGSWJW

I didn't realize Che said "what more, it may be a woman!" but to be fair they ARE in jail so

Chapter 40

I'm feeling kinda bad for him ngl

I feel happy for him tho 🥺

Bruh they added one page after the ending of some naked anime girl tf 😐

Chapter 41

These prisoners having fun is kinda sweet

YO INSANE

Bitches be complaining about Maria's looks are just jealous 🥰

Chapter 42

Damn she lorge

He loves fighting naked eh

Only valid person is the one saying Oliva deserves better treatment which tbh true

Chapter 43

Fun fact i wear my jacket like El Che too, unless it's too cold

El che with the hair lose is so cute bro,,,

Something something fingering joke

Sikorski could fold a coin too

I bet the bandana will break

Chapter 44

I would have just fallen on top of him, how is he gonna counter that, eh?

Oh that super fun to know!

Oh the good ol dirty technique, i have seen this one before!

Chapter 45

NOOO MARIA DON'T DO THIS TO HIM

This fight is super cool tho i love these two characters

Chapter 46

They just keep changing the rules i think Itagaki is just flexing at this point

LAAOSFKAGSKAGSKAF???

Baki wants his protagonism back

I'm getting pissed off they keep putting semi naked underaged girls at the end of every chapter 😐

Chapter 47

Bruh just realized, the mouth got so hyped as this new cool villain and they died in their first appearance 😭

His damn bandana...

[cant-think-of-a-username]

Hiiii again 🥺 I was wondering if it’s okay if I could please request a basic matchup? Preferably with a male pls. Pronouns she/her. I am 5’4, an ambivert and a Latina. I have pale skin, mid-length brown wavy hair with bangs, and hazel eyes. I am described as someone who comes off as cold or aloof when I’m around people I don’t know. After getting to know me, I am the complete opposite. I’m just a bit shy at first lol. My friends have told me that I give good advice but like to joke about my stubbornness. I like to make people laugh and try to make the best of any situation. However I have a hard time expressing my emotions. I’m also described as easy going and fun to be around. I love animals especially dogs. I am a hip hop dancer and love to perform. Enjoy reading and playing video games. I love music especially hip hop, rap, & reggaeton. I also love to write music/poetry. I never show anybody though since I’m really shy about it. I really like drawing and painting. I can be playful and love to tease my friends. I also really like to eat and travel. I am a bit of a homebody but I enjoy hiking. I really enjoy having deep conversations. I can’t stand people who bully others and people who are fake. I like to be honest and helpful in any way I can. My style is usually anything comfy/casual and I don’t really like wearing skirts or dresses. I speak English and Spanish (learning Japanese & Portuguese). I would love to learn ASL one day as well. I enjoy watching crime investigations. I don’t really any fears, just not being able to accomplish my goals/dreams. I tend to daydream a lot and I’m also a big procrastinator 😭. I would say my love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. I’m usually really cold towards the person I like lol. I tend to be a bit jealous/possessive in a relationship, not in an unhealthy way though. Just wouldn’t match with someone who is very flirty with other people lol. What I look for in a partner is someone that is selfless, mature and has depth to them. Also if they are really accepting because I’ve never had that growing up. An ideal date is pretty much anywhere honestly, I’m not really picky with that. Thank you so much!! 💘💘💘

DEE MATCHES YOU WITH…

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

❥ ok i believe that suga didn’t really like you at first ? like he thought you were self centered and such, but when he saw you get a little flustered when talking to someone he realized he was very wrong about you

❥ so like the sweet guy he is, he came to you and apologized about judging you too quickly

❥ that started a great friendship between yall. but that didn’t really last for long because when suga got to know you even more, he decided that he doesn’t want to only be friends with you

❥ as your boyfriend, suga is the perfect guy. he is very caring and supportive of you

❥ when you have a hard time expressing yourself, he will always be there right next to you telling you that it’s okay to not always understand yourself and that you should take all the time you need

❥ suga LOVES watching you dance and is 100% your top hype man. he would even suggest you guys try to learn a dance together

❥ you guys are always trying something new and visiting new places together

❥ seeing how brave you are is always a source of inspiration to him making him wanna achieve all sorts of things to make you proud of him

❥ late night deep conversations with him are super comforting, you guys are both able to open up and talk about all sorts of things and listen to each other freely

❥ for dates, suga really likes to take you on picnics where he also gets you guys some painting supplies so you could paint together

❥ on other days where you are both tired, you just end up ordering your favorite take out food and having a movie night in a makeshift blanket fort

❥ all in all, you and suga make quite a great couple, always inspiring and encouraging one another to move forward in life and to achieve more

<3

a/n : hdhdjdjdb IM TERRIBLY SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG IN THESE I JUST DIDNT HAVE MUCH MOTIVATION AT THE TIME IM REALLY SORRY

[starsaver94]

Hiii could I please get a mha matchup? Preferably with a male pls. Pronouns she/her. I am 5’4, an ambivert and a Latina. I have pale skin, mid-length brown wavy hair with bangs, and hazel eyes. I am described as someone who comes off as cold or aloof when I’m around people I don’t know. After getting to know me, I am the complete opposite. I’m just a bit shy at first lol. My friends have told me that I give good advice but like to joke about my stubbornness. I like to make people laugh and try to make the best of any situation. However I have a hard time expressing my emotions. I’m also described as easy going and fun to be around. I love animals especially dogs. I am a hip hop dancer and love to perform. Enjoy reading and playing video games. I love music especially hip hop, rap, & reggaeton. I also love to write music/poetry. I never show anybody though since I’m really shy about it. I really like drawing and painting. I can be playful and love to tease my friends. I also really like to eat and travel. I am a bit of a homebody but I enjoy hiking. I really enjoy having deep conversations. I can’t stand people who bully others and people who are fake. I like to be honest and helpful in any way I can. My style is usually anything comfy/casual and I don’t really like wearing skirts or dresses. I speak English and Spanish (learning Japanese & Portuguese). I would love to learn ASL one day as well. I enjoy watching crime investigations. I don’t really any fears, just not being able to accomplish my goals/dreams. I tend to daydream a lot and I’m also a big procrastinator 😭. I would say my love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. I’m usually really cold towards the person I like lol. I tend to be a bit jealous/possessive in a relationship, not in an unhealthy way though. Just wouldn’t match with someone who is very flirty with other people lol. What I look for in a partner is someone that is selfless, mature and has depth to them. Also if they are really accepting because I’ve never had that growing up. Thank you so much!! 💘💘💘

I pair you with...

Mezo Shoji!

This guy was honestly the right person to approach you when you both first met.

He’s not overly-energetic like Kaminari or Ashido, and he’s not too distant like Bakugou or Todoroki.

He’s very accepting of you since he knows what it’s like to be judged based on appearances or other differences.

Shoji enjoys watching you dance. He’ll even have little dance offs with you.

His hip-hop dancing is honestly impressive, mostly because of his multiple arms.

Shoji is pretty quiet most of the time. So he’ll usually just silently sit and watch as you draw/paint.

He’ll even allow you to use him as a model to practice more advanced or complex drawings.

This boy is seriously touch-starved!

So in other words... Cuddle him!

Because in all honesty, this guy is a big cuddle bug and is hugs/cuddles are the best!

His arms wrap around you and form a protective and warm cover around you.

The thing he adores most is that you love him despite his intimidating appearance. 

He helps keep your jealousy/possessiveness in check.

He’ll pull you in close and tells you gently but firmly to calm down.

All in all, Shoji is a very attentive, responsible, and caring boyfriend.

[obsidianfr3sk]

The Origins (Chapter 5)

Summary: Before the Renegades put an end to the Age of Anarchy, they were six kids trying to survive day by day in a city ruled by chaos and desolation. Is there a space for hope and kindness somewhere in Gatlon City? Maybe.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123756/chapters/62643247

Evander chapter took me a little bit longer than expected, ngl. I think this one is a little more action-y than my previous work??? Or maybe I’m just fucking allucinating lol. 

Also, speaking of Evander, how do you guys pronunce his name? Because I was having Word to read this chapter out loud for me so I could recognize mistakes without having to read (?) and it pronunced it as Ee-vander, but I’ve always pronunced it as /E/vander, probably for the same reason I say “Simón” instead of “Simon” or “Hugo” instead of “Hugh”. Fellow spanish-speakers, back me up (? 

BUT REALLY I NEED TO KNOW IS THERE A CANON PRONUNCIATION FOR EVANDER’S NAME???? PLS HELP

Tag list (tell me if you want in or out): @nodrianbcyes @blueraspberry-official @healing-winston-pratt @itsalittlebitchilly @callumtreadwell @plain-jane-mclain

Bring me along to the world you see

Age of Anarchy

Year 9

The night is warm and windless. He looks up and tries to beg the moon for help, but he has lost his voice. A mysterious force holds his arms and legs. The only thing he can move is his head.

The sky is full of stars, red and big as rubies.

"Vandy ..."

He looked to his right. His father's green eyes meet his. He used to say that seeing his son was like looking in the most flattering mirror. They both had red hair, the same eyes, their teeth slightly apart… they were identical. But his father didn't have freckles. His mother did.

"Are you okay?"

On the left, he sees his mother. Her blonde hair covers her face, but he can notice her painted lips and perfect liner. She has always been very protective of her makeup. It makes her feel beautiful.

Evander doesn't understand. His mom is beautiful, even without makeup.

His mom is beautiful, even when she’s dead.

" Evander ..."

An ownerless hand puts the barrel of the gun to his forehead. The metal feels hot. The stranger puts his finger on the trigger and is about to shoot when Kasumi shakes him and whispers:

"Evander, wake up."

Evander woke up screaming and with his heart racing. A layer of cold sweat covered his entire body. Tears began to flow from his eyes and instinctively, he reached for Kasumi's arms and hugged her with all the strength of his body.

"The same nightmare?"

"The same nightmare," he replied.

Kasumi stroked his red locks, while the silence in the room was interrupted by the exasperated moans of the other girls who slept there. Alix approached them with disdain and deep dark circles under her eyes.

He hated Alix. She could look through walls, had just turned seventeen last week, and believed herself to be the leader of the whole place just because she was the oldest.

"You said he wasn’t going to have nightmares anymore, Kasumi," she told her accusingly.

Kasumi shrugged. Evander stuck his tongue out at her.

Three years ago, some Jackals broke into his home during dinner, pointing guns at his parents' heads and demanding answers they didn't have. The first thing his mother did was run at him to protect him, but suddenly, the youngest of the Jackals grabbed him by the collar of his dirty shirt and tried to snatch him away.

However, Samantha Wade was not going to let anyone separate her from her son. She clung to him as if her life depended on it. Evander was too scared and deafened by all the yelling, that he didn't feel his mother's nails digging into his skin. "Don't take my son, please don't kill my baby."

After struggling for a while the boy was able to yank Evander from his mother's arms. The woman let out a brutal scream and that was enough for his father to jump on the Jackal, ready to do everything he could to rescue his son.

The tallest man broke his neck.

He gave a low, hoarse laugh. Evander would never forget it.

"We just need the girl," he explained to the younger jackal. "You take care of the child."

Evander couldn't see his father's body for more than two seconds, because the Jackal took him out to the backyard, sat him on the grass, and ordered him severely:

"Stay still. Unless you want to end up like your dad."

Those words were enough for Evander to overcome his urge to disobey.

He took out of his pocket three fireworks and a lighter.

"Today is Fourth of July, Evander Jr,” he said. "Let’s celebrate.”

Those fireworks were the only thing that lit up that starless night. However, neither their outburst nor their beauty could hide the words that the jackal whispered in his ear:

"Listen to me carefully, kid. You are going to drop to the ground and you aren't going to get up until dawn. In the morning, you'll walk five blocks to the home for child prodigies and you'll tell Bertha that Tom Freud sent you. Now, you will be surrounded by prodigies. Some may be powerful, but you must never to kneel before them. Do you understand?"

How ironic that Evander turned out to be a prodigy. Although no one had knelt before him. Yet.

Tom Freud did not wait for him to respond. As soon as the last spark disappeared, he pushed him to the ground, put his foot on his back, and shouted:

"Stay still!"

The bullet whizzed past his ear. Evander didn't scream, he just obeyed. He stayed still when Freud took his foot off his back. He stayed still when the Jackals left. And he even stayed still when the first ray of the sun illuminated his face.

When he saw the corpses on the kitchen floor, he could only ask himself what would have happened if he had not stayed still.

Every time that nightmare woke him up, he would ask Kasumi the same question. She would only tell him to look out the window.

"Your parents greet you from the stars," she assured. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wade, hello."

Evander always responded with, “Look, your parents are there too. Hello, Mrs. Kasumi's mom, hello, Mr. Kasumi's dad. How do you say mom and dad in Japanese? "

Then, Kasumi proceeded to teach him some new words and expressions in Japanese. They both liked to put on solemn faces and start saying random phrases in Japanese when they were in public. They knew it was annoying for a lot of people, including Mom Bertha. She said Kasumi's mom used to do the same thing when they were younger when she was mad at her. Mom Bertha seemed sad after telling them this, so they decided not to do it in front of her anymore. Seeing Mom Bertha sad wasn't as fun as watching the older children get angry at them when they refused to explain what they were saying.

"You wouldn't understand," Evander told them, shaking his head with mock seriousness.

"That's right, you wouldn't understand," Kasumi agreed.

If others knew it was just random words and phrases, the game would be over, so they had to keep it a secret. Kasumi confessed that she regretted not being able to learn her parents' first language. However, she made an effort to learn how to say a very specific question. 

Unfortunately, it was a question she had to make very often.

"Vandy, did you wet the bed?"

Evander hugged her tighter. Kasumi nodded and began to remove the covers. The girls immediately noticed what happened and started complaining, especially Alix. Evander sat on the corner of the bed, feeling dirty, and humiliated. They all looked at him with disgust and mockery, secreting each other.

Yeah, they didn’t like the idea of Evander sleeping in the same room as them. They said there was a room for boys and a room for girls for a reason. But Mom Bertha wouldn’t hear a word about it. Evander was going to sleep there, whether they liked it or not. 

Why? Because he was a bed wetter and the boys weren’t very nice about it. Neither were the girls, but at least they didn’t start a fight with him when they realize Evander had wet the bed again. 

He looked out the window. Mom Bertha was outside, talking to some men. He couldn't see their faces.

Evander had seen these men before. Sometimes when nightmares woke him up, he would listen to Mom Bertha talking to them. There were times when they yelled at each other, but there were other times when they gave her boxes filled with food and medicine. Kasumi made up the story that they were the guardians of the shadows, protecting the kingdom of the night.

"They look scary," Evander said to her when she told him the story.

"Don't worry, they won't hurt us."

But lately, Evander heard more screams and saw fewer boxes.

She dropped the wet sheets on the floor and handed him some clean underwear. Evander crawled under a blanket to change. Although he had a lot of privacy that way, Kasumi still turned her back on him so as not to make him uncomfortable.

"Kasumi, don't you listen to what we're saying?" Alix asked.

"I’m listening, Alix," she replied shyly.

“Then stop ignoring us. Evander is getting too old to sleep with the girls, he has to go with the boys. "

"But they are going to hit him again," Kasumi said.

“Well, better for him,” Alix replied. "Maybe he’ll finally learn wetting the bed is a horrible habit.”

Evander pulled the blanket off, pointed his finger at Alix, and yelled:

"You are horrible!"

Alix opened her mouth to respond and Evander threw his dirty underwear at her face. Kasumi burst out laughing along with the rest of the girls. Alix squealed as Evander started bouncing on the bed yelling  "Horrible, horrible, horrible girl!"  in Japanese.

He would do anything to annoy Alix and to keep Kasumi laughing. 

When Alix recovered from the shock, she screamed:

"I'm going to kill you, Evander!"

A gunshot. Two gunshots.

Evander put a hand to his chest. Alix hadn't shot him.

Then who shot who?

Alix pushed Evander off the bed and leaned out the window. The shots had come from outside. Her face twisted in horror.

"Mom Bertha..."

All the other girls leaned over to look. Evander tried to push his way through them, but Kasumi quickly caught on and took him away from the scandal.

"Don't look," she whispered. "Please don't look."

"What happened?" he asked innocently. "Who’s shooting?"

"The guardians of the shadows," she replied, taking him by the shoulders, "have turned against us, Vandy."

As if she had summoned them, the guardians of the shadows knocked down the door to the girls' room pointing their guns at them. He and Kasumi hid under the bed, while the other girls screamed and raised their hands. The guardians of the shadows started holding them by their nightgowns and kicking them out into the corridor, not even giving them time to put on their shoes. The same scandal did not take long to begin in the men's room. A few more shots were heard.

And laughs. Low, hoarse laughs.

It can’t be…

The room was almost empty when a huge hand grabbed Kasumi by the wrist. Both screamed at the same time. Another hand grabbed Evander's arm and dragged them out of there.

The man was tall, muscular, and bald. A red bandanna covered his face.

Jackals.

"What are your powers!?" he yelled at Kasumi. His friend froze, staring at him with wide eyes and a sealed mouth. "What are your powers!?" he asked again.

More screaming. More demands. More questions they couldn't answer.

Evander tried to free himself from the man's grasp. All he wanted was to hug Kasumi once more. Maybe if he did it hard enough and for the right amount of time, he would be able to wake up.

The jackal growled and tossed Evander onto the bed as if ridding himself of an irritating mosquito. If he had done it harder, Evander would have been thrown out the open window.

The cold breeze gave him chills.

He looked at the window, then looked at his friend. She was still paralyzed and unable to answer the man's question. Kasumi, Evander, and the jackal were the only ones left in the room. Everyone else had gone to the common room.

He looked at the window. Then he looked at his friend.

The jackal drew his pistol and held it to Kasumi's head.

"WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS, LITTLE SLUT?!"

"She doesn’t understand you!" Evander yelled.

The jackal fell silent. Now the gun was pointed at him.

But Evander was not afraid.

"What are you talking about?"

“She doesn't speak English,” Evander explained, looking down. "That’s why she doesn't understand a single word of what you’re saying."

He looked at Kasumi curiously and threw Kasumi onto the bed, laughing. Evander hugged her.

Wake up, Vandy, wake up…

"What powers does the little slut have?" he asked Evander.

"I don't know," he replied, "she’s never used them."

"But she’s a prodigy."

"Yes, Mr. Jackal."

Another laugh. "I'm glad. If she wasn’t, I would have to kill her. And it would be a shame to kill such a pretty girl. "

Kasumi hugged him tighter. Perhaps she was also begging that it was all a dream. Or maybe she was more scared than he was.

Evander had to be brave for both of them.

"Do you want me to ask her for you?"

"Huh, now you happen to know Chinese," the jackal sneered.

"No, I know Japanese," Evander corrected.

He gave the loudest laugh of the night. Evander could perfectly visualize him breaking his dad's neck, laughing in the same way...

"Prove it."

Kasumi held his face in her hands. Her gaze seemed to scream at him:  "What are you doing?"  He had never seen her so confused.

He wished he could tell her what he was thinking.  Kasumi, don't be afraid. Think of this as a story. You know the best stories. Let's make our way out of this. Have a little bit of imagination.

But how could one have imagination at this moment?

"I... distraction... you window... we escape."

He saw his friend's gears moving inside her head. "Water... waterfall... escape," Kasumi stammered.

"Window, waterfall, escape" Evander repeated with a nod.

Kasumi smiled at him almost imperceptibly. She had understood. Those afternoons of annoying others had helped.

"What's she saying?" the jackal interrupted.

"She says she can heal trees," Evander replied.

"And what do you do?"

"I can control light."

It wasn't entirely a lie.

"And why aren't you wearing pants?"

Evander hadn't realized he was still in his boxers.

"I- I wetted the bed.”

The jackal's laughter echoed in his head. "How old are you? Six?"

"I’m eight, Mr. Jackal.”

The jackal pointed the gun at the old closet in the corner of the room. “Put on clothes, kid. And then go downstairs with the rest. "

Evander hurried to the closet. He grabbed the first pair of pants he could find. They were green and had strange spots on the knees. But he didn't have time to think about that. 

"What are you waiting, bitch? Move,” he yelled at Kasumi.

Kasumi didn’t move.

The pants were too big for him.

"I said move!" and hit her with the pistol’s grip.

Evander ran to get between the jackal and his friend. "Leave her alone!" he screamed.

The jackal raised his hand for a second blow. Both children closed their eyes, preparing for the beating they were about to receive. However, the blow did not come. Something had stopped the jackal.

Evander opened one eye. The jackal stared at him incredulously, his mouth slightly open.

He laughed. "I'm going to kill Freud..."

Then, he loaded his gun, put in on Evander's forehead, and said:

"Hello, Evander Jr. Stay still."

At that moment, Evander knew he couldn't stay still this time. 

He placed both of his hands over the jackal's eyes and fired the most powerful and explosive fireworks he could. The jackal's laugh became a cry of pain so loud that all of Gatlon City could hear it.

Kasumi carried him and created a waterfall that ran down to the fence door of the building. As Kasumi slid both of them to their freedom, Evander looked up at the stars.

He didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't stayed still four years ago. But if he had obeyed this particular jackal tonight, the sky would have one star more.

He loved his parents. But he didn't want to be a star just yet.