#the light hurts right like your eyes have to adjust and shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inseobts · 1 month ago

Note

hello!!! I’ve never asked for a request before so this is so strange but I love your writing ❤️

I was wondering if you could write something with Zoro X Reader where the reader gets injured badly in a fight and zoro is also too injured to carry her back to the ship. So he has to entrust Sanji to carry her back for him. Maybe there is a light bit of teasing between the two men but ultimately they care about their crew mate more than petty fighting. Hope I explained that well and once again love your work.

Bruised Egos

zoro x fem!reader

a/n: thank youuuu!! hope you'll like this eheh

words count: 2.2k

tags: hurt/comfort, sanji & zoro friendship (reluctant), established relationship, injured reader, protective zoro

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The smoke clears just enough to make out the wreckage of the battlefield. Bodies lie scattered, groaning or out cold. Blood paints the ground, most of it not yours, but the gash across your side is too deep for pride, and you’re only staying upright because Zoro’s shoulder props you up.

“Shit…” you breathe, slumping “That bastard nearly cracked my spine.”

Zoro hisses through clenched teeth “You shouldn’t have taken that hit.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat, half cough, half whimper “Wasn’t trying to. Thought you had my back.”

“I did have your back,” he growls, voice low “He just went through me first.”

You look up. Zoro’s bleeding from the temple, his shirt ripped, a deep fresh cut across his chest. One arm hangs limp at his side. His swords are sheathed, but his breathing’s all wrong. Shaky. Strained.

You know that look.

“Zoro… you can’t carry me.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“And I’m not walking. I can’t feel my legs, babe.”

His jaw tightens. You see the war happening in his head. His pride screams to fix it himself, but his body’s failing. You lean your forehead against his, voice soft.

“You gotta call someone to help.”

Zoro’s silent.

Then a voice cuts through the haze like a damn knife.

“Ohhh no. No, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad.”

Sanji.

His boots skid to a stop in the dirt, one sleeve torn, bruises darkening his jaw. He crouches beside you, worry etched across his face “Ma chérie, what the hell happened to you? You’re—you’re—”

“I’m not dying” you murmur, almost amused.

“She’s not dying,” Zoro snaps, shooting Sanji a glare “But she can’t move. I can’t carry her.”

Sanji’s brows shoot up “So you’re actually asking me for help?”

Zoro doesn’t respond. He just glares harder.

“Oh my god,” Sanji gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his heart “Roronoa Zoro, Pirate Hunter, is entrusting me with his precious, injured girlfriend. The world is ending.”

“I will end your world if you drop her.”

You groan, head lolling back “Guys. Not the time.”

Sanji immediately sobers “Right. Sorry.” He leans in, his tone gentler now “This is gonna hurt, but I’ll be careful.”

Zoro grabs his wrist before he touches you “If you get weird, even a little, I’ll know.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but there’s a flicker of something honest under the dramatics “She’s hurt, moss-for-brains. Not my type when she’s bleeding out.”

You snort despite the pain “Wow. Thanks.”

Zoro lets go of Sanji’s wrist, reluctantly.

Sanji carefully hooks his arms under your knees and back, lifting you with surprising steadiness. You flinch, but he adjusts, murmuring apologies the entire time. You can feel Zoro’s gaze burning into the both of you.

“Hey” you whisper to Zoro, reaching your hand out.

He grabs it instantly, squeezing it tight “I’ll be right behind you.”

Sanji shifts your weight, starting toward the ship “Take your time, mosshead. Wouldn’t want you to collapse on the way and make me carry you too.”

Zoro mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “dead chef walking.”

But you hear it too, beneath the insults, under the tension, is trust.

And for now, that’s enough.

“Chopper!”

Sanji’s voice bounces off the twisted trees of the island interior. He cradles you tighter against his chest, eyes scanning for movement “Come on, little reindeer, now’s not the time to play scavenger.”

Zoro limps behind, every step deliberate. He’s pale under the dirt and blood, his knuckles clenched tight. He hasn’t spoken in minutes, not since you stopped answering him.

You groaned once. Then your head lolled against Sanji’s shoulder. And now nothing.

“She’s out cold,” Sanji mutters, almost to himself “Breathing’s shallow. I don’t like this.”

Zoro stops walking “Let me see her.”

Sanji glances back “We don’t have time to switch carriers, dumbass. You can barely stand.”

Zoro doesn’t budge “I said, let me see her.”

Reluctantly, Sanji kneels and shifts your weight slightly so Zoro can crouch beside him. Zoro brushes hair away from your face, his hand trembling just enough to notice.

“Hey. Y/N.” His voice is low now, barely audible “You with me?”

Your eyelids don’t flutter. Your lips are pale.

Sanji watches him, surprised at the way Zoro’s hand lingers on your cheek.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Sanji offers gently “She’ll pull through.”

“She better,” Zoro mutters, eyes locked on your face “I didn’t fight off three of these monsters just to watch her pass out in the dirt.”

Sanji lets him have a moment before standing again “Let’s move. We’re no good to her like this.”

Zoro stands too, but he’s slower now. His entire right leg is dragging slightly.

“You’re falling apart,” Sanji notes, voice tinged with both sarcasm and concern “Need me to carry you next?”

Zoro snorts “I’d rather be buried.”

“Wouldn't be the first time I carry you... But suit yourself, marimo.”

Sanji adjusts his hold on you again, but more carefully this time. You’re burning up now, your body swinging between chills and heat.

“You’re holding her like she’s made of glass” Zoro points out.

“She is right now,” Sanji snaps “You want me to drop her?”

“You’d be dead before she hit the ground.”

“Romantic,” Sanji mutters “Just say you love her and let’s go.”

Zoro doesn’t answer. His silence says everything.

They stumble into a clearing and Sanji spots Chopper.

“Chopper!” Zoro bellows.

The doctor turns, eyes wide “What happened?! Oh no, oh no—is that blood?”

Sanji doesn’t waste time. He kneels, laying you gently on the nearest blanket “She passed out a few minutes ago. Deep gash on her side. Internal bleeding, maybe. She hasn’t opened her eyes.”

Zoro drops beside you, his whole body stiff with tension “She was conscious right after the fight. Talking. Then she just… went quiet.”

Chopper’s already on it, gloves on, stethoscope out “Stay back, both of you. Let me work.”

Sanji pulls Zoro a few steps back. They both stand in silence for a moment, watching Chopper work with rapid, practiced hands.

“She’s gonna make it,” Sanji says quietly “She has to.”

Zoro glances at him, exhausted “If she doesn’t, I’ll kill you.”

Sanji rolls his eyes “You really know how to make a guy feel comforted.”

Zoro’s lip twitches, and for a second, just a second, Sanji sees something close to gratitude behind his usual scowl.

You stir, faintly, the barest motion of fingers twitching.

Zoro immediately drops to your side “Hey. Hey, hey—look at me.”

Your lips move, dry and cracked “…Zoro?”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for an hour “Yeah. I’m here. You fainted like an idiot. Don’t do that again.”

Chopper’s already at your other side “She’s stable now. But she needs rest. And stitches.”

“Ugh,” you murmur “Don’t let Sanji near my stitches.”

“I would never,” Sanji huffs from behind you “Though I was tempted to draw little hearts around the bandages.”

Zoro glares “Try it. I dare you.”

You crack a weak smile “You guys are… the worst.”

But your voice is soft, and your fingers curl weakly around Zoro’s sleeve. And that’s enough to keep him from collapsing himself.

You dream in flashes. Smoke. Pain. Arms under you. A soft voice murmuring apologies. The scent of cigarette smoke and flour. Something warm against your forehead.

Then everything fades into darkness.

When you wake up, it’s to the low creak of wood, the soft hum of the Sunny rocking beneath you. The room smells like clean linen, alcohol, and the ocean. You’re warm, safe. Your side aches like hell, but your brain is clear enough now to register that you’re alive, and tucked neatly into the infirmary’s bed.

Your fingers twitch. A shadow stirs beside the bed.

Zoro.

He’s slumped in a chair, arms folded across his chest, chin dipped low like he fell asleep mid-glare. One foot taps slightly, and there’s a fresh bandage wrapped around his bicep.

You blink slowly. Then whisper, hoarse, “…Zoro?”

He snaps awake so fast the chair nearly tips backward “You’re up?”

You nod, barely. Your throat’s dry, but you manage, “Feels like I got hit by a sea train.”

“You did,” he grumbles. He leans forward, his hand gripping the edge of the mattress like if he doesn’t hold on, you might disappear “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“You were scared?”

He looks away, cheeks faintly tinged “No.”

You smile weakly.

There’s a long pause. Then you whisper, “Can you… get Sanji?”

Zoro freezes “What?”

“I wanna thank him. I just remember… being carried. He was gentle. He smelled like pastries.” You grin sleepily “Like a knight or something.”

Zoro stares at you. His eye twitches “A knight.”

“Mmhmm. My… chevalier in shining apron.”

“Oh, hell no.”

You giggle weakly, and he scowls even harder.

Zoro mutters something about “damn curly-brow” and “should’ve let me carry her and pass out instead” but he gets up anyway, muttering all the way to the door. He yanks it open and yells down the hall:

“HEY, LOVE-COOK! YOUR DAMN PRINCESS WOKE UP AND WANTS HER SHINING FRENCH-FRIED KNIGHT!”

You wheeze a laugh and immediately regret it as pain lances up your side.

“Ugh—ow. Ow. Okay. Worth it.”

Zoro glares at you “Not funny.”

You grin “A little funny.”

Moments later, Sanji slides into the room with a flourish, one hand to his heart, the other holding a steaming mug of tea.

“Ma belle, you called for your humble rescuer?”

Zoro groans “Kill me.”

Sanji kneels beside your bed dramatically “I brought tea, special blend for pain and recovery. Also, you’re glowing even with dried blood and stitches. How do you do it?”

You take the tea, sipping carefully “Thanks, Sanji. Seriously. I don’t remember much, but I remember you carrying me. You felt safe.”

Sanji softens instantly, all flair dropping “Any time. You’re our crewmate, our family. I’d carry you through a burning building if I had to.”

Zoro mumbles, “Burning kitchen, maybe. Not a building.”

Sanji ignores him.

“Still,” you murmur, “you were… really sweet. Thank you.”

Zoro groans louder “That’s it. I’m throwing myself overboard.”

Sanji smirks “What’s the matter, mosshead? Jealous?”

Zoro doesn’t answer. He just sits back down and crosses his arms, glowering at the wall like it insulted him.

You reach out with a small smile, grabbing his hand. He looks over, still sulking, but your fingers tug his down.

You mouth, thank you.

He doesn’t smile, but his thumb brushes across your knuckles. Just once.

Sanji rises “Alright. I’ll let you two lovebirds bicker in peace. But next time she needs rescuing, I’m bringing rose petals.”

“I’ll bring my swords.”

“Romantic!”

The door clicks shut behind Sanji.

Zoro sighs, muttering, “Chevalier my ass…”

You smile and lean back “You’re still my favorite swordsman.”

He grunts. But his hand never leaves yours.

You watch him in silence until he speaks.

“Still thinking about your chevalier?”

You smile faintly “Still sulking about it?”

He glances at you “I’m not sulking.”

“You’re absolutely sulking.”

He scowls “I just don’t like the way you looked at him in his arms.”

“I was out of it. I don’t even remember much. But something about the way he held me felt safe. And soft. And dumb, and warm. I was so out of it that at some point I even thought for sure it was you.” You smirk “Turns out it was the one who wears suits to jungle battles.”

Zoro huffs “You’re comparing me to that frilly cook?”

You nod slowly, eyes closing for a moment “Mhm.”

Zoro grunts “Tch. Dumb.”

But then he leans forward, and you feel his callused hand brush your arm, slow and deliberate. His voice softens, just a little.

“You scared me, you know.”

You open your eyes again “Yeah?”

“You dropped so fast. One minute, you were teasing me. Next… nothing. Just a dead weight in curly-brow’s arms. I couldn’t do a damn thing.”

His hand closes around yours. Not possessive, just grounded. Steady.

“I thought maybe I’d lost you.”

You shift your fingers to lace with his “You didn’t.”

“I almost did.”

“But you didn’t...” you repeat gently, tugging his hand until he leans a little closer “You were there. Even if you couldn’t carry me, you stayed. That means more to me than anything.”

Zoro stares at you, unreadable. Then, slowly, he leans in and presses his forehead to yours.

For a long, quiet moment, you just breathe each other in.

No bravado. No teasing. Just warmth. Just him.

Eventually, you murmur, “You know… I might ask Sanji to carry me again.”

Zoro pulls back with a look.

You smir “Kidding.”

Zoro shakes his head, standing up with a low groan, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You’re lucky you’re injured,” he mutters “Or I’d drop-kick you off the deck.”

“Romantic” you whisper.

He smirks, just slightly.

Zoro pulls the chair closer to your bedside, sits again, and this time, he doesn’t fold his arms or pretend he’s not watching you sleep.

When your eyes finally drift closed, his hand is still wrapped around yours. Firm. Protective. Unmoving.

Sanji might have carried you.

But Zoro never let go.

839 notes · View notes

heliosunny · 3 months ago

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Love you "lucky egg" series can you write with Kevin Kaslana?

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Kevin x Reader

[artist]

The game was over before it even began.

You had Rowan cornered—one more move, and victory was yours. Across the table, she scowled at the board, brows furrowed in deep concentration. You could see the exact moment she realized she had no way out, frustration flickering across her face.

And then—chaos.

A blur of fur launched onto the table, scattering dice and knocking over carefully placed pieces. Rowan let out a sharp gasp, while you barely had time to react before a tiny, wriggling body landed in your lap.

"Pebble!" Rowan groaned, throwing her hands up. "You little demon!"

The ferret chittered, unbothered by the accusation, tail flicking as she burrowed into the crook of your arm. You chuckled, stroking her soft fur. "Guess that means I win by default."

"Absolutely not!" Rowan pointed an accusatory finger at you before hastily trying to reset the board. "We are starting over, and you are losing."

Before you could argue, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen—and suddenly, all interest in revenge seemed to vanish. "Oh! Did you hear about that lucky egg dispenser? The one that spawns magical pets?"

That caught your attention. You adjusted Pebble in your arms, intrigued. "Magical pets?"

"Yeah, people have been posting about it all day." She turned the phone toward you, showing images of small creatures—some glowing, some covered in intricate patterns, others curled up beside their new owners. "You said you wanted a pet, right? Maybe you'll get something cool."

That was all the convincing you needed.

The shop was tucked into a quiet alley, the kind of place that felt almost hidden from the rest of the world. The machine itself stood against the wall, an old-fashioned thing with a glass front and faintly glowing buttons. A small crowd had gathered, some holding eggs that shimmered with warmth, others already introducing their newly hatched companions to the world.

You fed a coin into the slot, anticipation thrumming in your chest as. Light swirled within the chamber, forming the shape of an egg—

But something was wrong.

Instead of the warm glow of the other eggs, yours was a deep, icy blue. The second it materialized, the temperature dropped. A thin layer of frost spread beneath it, creeping outward in sharp, crystalline patterns. The air turned crisp, your breath misting in front of you.

Rowan took one look and backed away. "Nope. Absolutely not. That thing is cursed. You are on your own."

You barely heard her. The cold should’ve been biting, unbearable—but as you reached out, it didn’t sting. Didn’t hurt.

You lifted the egg carefully, cradling it against you. Beneath your touch, the frost settled.

"You're seriously keeping that?" Rowan asked, incredulous.

"Yeah. I think I am."

Taking care of the egg wasn’t easy.

It never warmed, never pulsed with life the way Rowan said hers had. Other people who had gotten lucky eggs spoke about how their eggs glowed, moved, or made soft noises from inside. Yours did nothing.

It just sat there, an unmoving sphere of frost.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry.

Even when Pebble curiously prodded at it with her tiny paws, even when Rowan kept side-eyeing it like it might explode, you simply… waited.

The egg sat in a nest of blankets on your desk, cold as ice but never spreading frost beyond its immediate space. When you touched it, the chill wasn’t painful, just sharp—like the crisp bite of winter air. You spoke to it sometimes, like it could hear you.

“I wonder what you’ll be,” you mused one night, resting your chin in your hand as you watched it. “Something fluffy? Something with wings?”

But on the third night, something changed.

crack.

You bolted upright, heart leaping, just as another fracture splintered across the egg’s icy surface.

"Oh, shit—"

The cold surged outward, a sudden blast of frigid air so intense it made the lights flicker. Pebble scurried under your bed with a startled squeak. Rowan, who had stayed over out of curiosity, jolted awake on your floor, rubbing her eyes blearily.

“What—” she started, but then the egg broke.

Not in gentle pieces.

It shattered.

Shards of ice burst outward, frost curling along the floor. You instinctively shielded your face, but the cold didn’t harm you. Instead, a figure emerged from the mist, stepping forward as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

Tall. Broad shoulders. White hair. Blue eyes.

He reached for you, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. He was freezing. Ice clung to his clothes, frost still trailing from his skin, but his hold was desperate.

Like he had been waiting an eternity to touch someone again.

"...You're real" he murmured against your shoulder, voice low, almost disbelieving. "You're here."

Rowan made a sound—half gasp, half incredulous choke. "Okay, WHAT—"

The man’s head snapped up. His arms tensed around you, and before you could blink, a blade materialized in his grip.

Rowan barely had time to move before he pointed it at her.

"Wait!" You moved, stepping in front of Rowan, shielding her with your body. “Stop! She’s not a threat!”

The cold thickened, sharp and heavy in the air. His grip on the weapon didn’t waver.

But then, his eyes met yours again.

And, slowly—reluctantly—he lowered the blade.

Rowan, to her credit, didn’t push.

After witnessing a fully grown man emerge from an ice egg and nearly skewer her with his weapon, she looked between you and him—expression torn between concern and absolute disbelief, then slowly exhaled.

"You know what? I’m gonna go."

"Rowan—"

"Nope. You two clearly have… whatever this is to sort out. And I, for one, do not want to be on the receiving end of a sword again.”

She grabbed Pebble—who had poked her head out from under the bed, curiosity outweighing her fear. “Text me if you need backup. Or if he starts doing creepy ice magic. Or if he tries to murder you in your sleep.”

“I won’t need backup.”

“You say that now.”

Then, with a final suspicious glance at Kevin—who had yet to move from where he stood, silently watching—she left.

The moment the door clicked shut, you turned back to the stranger in your room.

“Alright. Spill.”

He didn’t respond.

You crossed your arms. “Who are you?”

Silence.

“How did you come from the egg?”

Nothing.

“Why did you almost stab Rowan?”

Still nothing.

Your patience thinned. His unwillingness to speak was quickly becoming frustrating.

You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “Look, you can’t just show up, nearly give my best friend a heart attack, hug me like you’ve known me for years, and then say nothing.”

“…Kevin.”

You frowned. “Kevin?”

“That’s… my name.”

Kevin.

The name felt familiar. Like a word on the tip of your tongue, just out of reach.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the tense silence. You glanced at the screen. A text from Rowan.

ran into my ex. send help. or maybe a meteor.

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head before replying.

You’ll survive. Just avoid eye contact.

Another buzz.

fine. but now you’re stuck babysitting ice man. enjoy.

You sighed, slipping your phone back into your pocket before turning to Kevin. “Looks like it’s just us for the night.”

His posture shifted slightly at that.

“…What does that mean?”

“It means I’m stuck taking care of you.” You stretched, rolling your shoulders before glancing back at him. “And since I doubt you’ve eaten in… well, ever, we’re getting food.”

"…Food?"

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Dinner. You do eat, right?”

“…With you?”

“…Yeah,” you said, “With me.”

For the first time since he hatched, Kevin looked almost… happy.

Taking Kevin out in public turned out to be more of a spectacle than you anticipated.

From the moment you stepped into the restaurant, people stared.

You couldn’t exactly blame them. Kevin wasn’t exactly inconspicuous—towering over most of the patrons, clad in unfamiliar clothes, the way his presence seemed to subtly lower the temperature of the room—it was no wonder people were sneaking glances, whispering behind their hands.

Kevin, for his part, didn’t seem to care.

Every so often, his fingers would flex at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to reach for something.

You nudged him lightly. “Relax.”

He glanced at you. “…I am.”

“You look like you’re about to start a fight with the waiter.”

He didn’t respond, but his posture eased just slightly.

You reached the counter, scanning the menu before placing your order. When the cashier turned to Kevin expectantly, he hesitated—clearly unsure of what to do.

“Just get whatever looks good.”

He studied the menu for a moment before quietly repeating what you ordered.

The cashier, still eyeing him curiously, nodded and rang it up.

As you moved to find a seat, you caught snippets of hushed conversations.

“—he has to be a model, right?”

“Did you see his eyes? They glowed for a second, I swear—”

You glanced at Kevin to see if he noticed. If he did, he didn’t react. His focus remained entirely on you.

Even when you sat down, even as people continued stealing glances, his attention never strayed.

“…Do you always attract this much attention?”

“Attention?”

“The staring. The whispering. You’re kind of hard to ignore.”

He blinked, then looked around—like he was only just noticing the way people’s eyes flickered toward him before quickly looking away.

“I don’t care”

You exhaled, leaning back. “Of course you don’t.”

----

Life with Kevin was… an adjustment.

At first, he was quiet—always watching, always listening, rarely speaking unless spoken to. But the more time you spent together, the more he started to change. A comment here, a question there. Then, one day, Rowan nearly choked on her drink when he suddenly cracked a joke.

"Why did the scarecrow win an award?"

You and Rowan exchanged glances. "…Why?"

Kevin, completely deadpan: "Because he was outstanding in his field."

A beat of silence.

Then Rowan smacked you on the arm, wheezing. "What have you unleashed?!"

From that moment on, there was no stopping him. Every opportunity, every silence, every meal—another dad joke. Some so bad they made Rowan dramatically fake her own death on your couch. Others that made you snort into your drink when you least expected it.

And then there was the cooking.

Kevin, for all his strengths, sucked at it.

You tried to be patient. You really did. But after the third time he turned a simple omelet into something that looked—and smelled—like a crime scene, you had to intervene.

"Kevin. What did you do to this?"

He looked at the mess on the plate, completely unfazed. "I followed the instructions."

Rowan peered at the destruction. "…Did the instructions tell you to make it explode?"

He looked at the pan like it had personally betrayed him. "It didn’t do that last time."

"Last time?" you echoed in horror.

In the end, you took over the cooking duties, while Kevin begrudgingly stepped back—though not without very intense supervision.

"No, Kevin, you don't need to set the heat that high. Lower it. No, lower."

Despite all the chaos, it… worked.

Somehow, between Rowan’s teasing, Kevin’s terrible jokes, and your constant attempts to keep everything from burning down, the three of you settled into something that felt almost normal.

Kevin spoke more now. He wasn’t just an observer anymore. He and Rowan still had their moments (mostly involving his near-murder of her that first night), but they got along better than you ever expected.

And even though you didn’t have all the answers about him—where he really came from, what he was hiding—it didn’t feel like he was a stranger anymore.

He was just… Kevin.

---

The more time you spent with Kevin, the more you noticed something off.

It wasn’t just the cold that followed him. That, at least, you had gotten used to—the way the air seemed to crisp slightly when he was deep in thought, or how frost would creep along the glass whenever he stared too long out the window.

No, it was something else. The way his eyes would linger on the night sky, a faraway look in them. The way his posture would stiffen whenever a particular song played, or when Rowan made an offhand comment about history, or war, or things lost to time.

Like he was remembering something.

Something he refused to talk about.

“…Kevin?”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then, finally, he murmured, “The world feels… different.”

“Different how?”

He wasn’t sure how to explain it.

“Lighter.”

You stepped closer. “Is that… a bad thing?”

“…No,” he admitted. “But it makes me wonder.”

You tilted your head. “About what?”

“If this world was always like this… or if it was made this way.”

You didn’t understand what he meant.

----

You worked as a dungeon monitor—watching adventurers as they delved into the depths, tracking their progress, recording statistics, and ensuring that if something went horribly wrong, help could be dispatched.

That day, things almost went very wrong.

The team that entered was experienced—one of the best—but halfway through their expedition, the cameras cut out. The entire monitoring system flickered and failed, leaving your department blind to whatever was happening inside.

Then, the readings spiked.

Unstable energy fluctuations. High threat levels.

Something was in there with them.

You and the others scrambled to restore visuals, but it was useless. No way to see what they were facing, no way to tell if they were even still alive.

Then Kevin, who had been standing silently behind you the entire time, spoke.

“I’ll go.”

You turned to him, startled. “What?”

“I’ll go in.”

The room fell silent. Some of your coworkers exchanged uneasy glances. Others whispered among themselves, unsure whether to take him seriously.

“Kevin,” you said carefully, “we don’t know what’s in there.”

“I’ll handle it.”

You knew how strong he was. You’d seen glimpses of it—his unnatural speed, his ice-cold aura, the way he carried himself like someone who had fought things far worse than this.

But going in alone?

“…You sure?” you asked.

Instead of answering, he raised his hand.

A sudden heat flooded the room.

For a moment, you thought he had activated his ice abilities again—but then you saw it. The shift in temperature. The faint glow of embers at his fingertips, the flicker of something red-hot forming at his side.

The blade he summoned burned fiercely, searing through the cold that usually followed him. The contrast was almost unnatural—his frozen presence clashing with the heat of his weapon, a contradiction made real.

The room was dead silent.

Then Kevin turned, walking toward the entrance of the dungeon without another word.

Kevin returned an hour later.

Injured, bloodstained, but standing.

And he wasn’t alone.

One by one, he carried them out—some limping, some unconscious, some… unmoving. He didn’t stop. Even when his arm was clearly wounded, even when a deep gash trailed down his side, he did not leave a single body behind.

The survivors were in shock—some barely coherent, others whispering about what they had seen inside. About the monster.

About him.

The other department arrived shortly after—the clean-up team, tasked with handling whatever remained inside the dungeon. You sat with the injured, helping where you could, while Kevin leaned against a wall, silent as medics tended to him.

Then the reports started coming in.

The mess he left behind.

The ice-covered battlefield, frozen over in jagged, unnatural formations. The smoldering remains of the creature—the way its body had been carved through by searing heat, its flesh torn apart by both fire and frost.

The kind of destruction that shouldn’t have been possible by one man alone.

One of the cleanup officers returned, pale-faced and visibly shaken. He pulled you aside, voice low.

“That guy…” He glanced warily at Kevin, who hadn’t moved from where he sat, “What is he?”

You looked at Kevin—the quiet, frostbitten warrior who told dad jokes and failed miserably at cooking.

And the man who had just single-handedly taken down a monster that nearly wiped out an entire team.

“…He’s Kevin” you said simply.

The officer gave you an incredulous look, but you didn’t elaborate.

Because the truth was, you didn’t know either.

Kevin was quiet on the way home.

He was thinking.

When you finally reached your place, he sat on the couch, arms resting on his knees, gaze unfocused. His wounds had been patched up—though not without some grumbling from Rowan about how “mystery ice man is way too durable for his own good”—but he didn’t seem concerned about them.

If anything, he looked… frustrated.

You watched him for a moment before nudging his foot with yours. “Something on your mind?”

“…I shouldn’t have been injured.”

“Uh. What?”

Kevin frowned slightly, staring at the bandages on his arm. “Those attacks shouldn’t have hurt me. Not like this.” His fingers curled slightly. “I haven’t fully recovered.”

You exchanged glances with Rowan, who raised an eyebrow. “Recovered from what?”

His gaze flickered—first to you, then to Rowan, then back again.

“Something else isn’t right,” he murmured. “The effects of the dungeon. You should have been affected.”

You tilted your head. “We weren’t inside.”

“That doesn’t matter.” His brow furrowed. “The energy—its reach should have been wider. You were close enough to be impacted.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “But you weren’t.”

You exchanged another glance with Rowan.

Rowan crossed her arms. “I felt something,” she muttered. “Like a headache, maybe? It wasn’t great, but it didn’t kill me.”

Kevin seemed to consider that, his expression unreadable.

You, on the other hand, just shrugged. “I felt fine.”

That made him look at you again—longer this time, like he was trying to figure something out.

“…Why?”

You just huffed, flopping onto the couch beside him. “Maybe I’m just built different.”

Rowan snorted. “Or maybe you’ve been exposed to so much weird dungeon energy that your body just gave up trying to resist it.”

You rolled your eyes before nudging Kevin again. “Besides, why are you so surprised? You’ve literally been sitting in my apartment acting like a human air conditioner. Maybe I just got used to it.”

Kevin blinked.

Then blinked again.

“…You’ve been using me as an air conditioner?”

You shrugged. “It’s convenient.”

Rowan lost it. Kevin just stared at you, utterly unreadable.

----

Kevin didn’t hesitate.

The moment he got Rowan’s message “Emergency. We’re in trouble. Come fast.”—he was already moving.

By the time he arrived, the situation was bad.

Inside the monitoring room, you and your coworkers were forced to your knees, hands restrained, faces pale with fear. Armed men stood around you, their presence suffocating. And at the center of it all, towering over the rest, was a man—easily over six feet, built like a fortress, but it wasn’t just his size that put Kevin on edge.

It was the energy radiating from him.

The moment Kevin stepped in, every pair of eyes turned to him.

The leader grinned.

“There he is,” he rumbled, “The one we’ve been looking for.”

“You... were expecting me?”

The man spread his arms, like this was some grand occasion. “We search for power. Real power. And you…” His eyes gleamed. “You are exceptional.”

Kevin didn’t respond.

The man chuckled. “Come with us.”

Kevin’s eyes flickered—first to you, then to Rowan, then to the others.

Then, the man’s grin widened.

“But if you refuse,” he said, almost lazily, “I wonder… who will you save?”

At his signal, his men moved, pressing weapons closer to throats, tightening their hold.

He had to choose.

You, or the others.

The air turned ice-cold.

Kevin’s fingers twitched at his side, the temperature around him plummeting. The leader’s grin never wavered, but the air shimmered subtly around his body—like something unseen was suppressing the cold before it could reach him.

A countermeasure.

Kevin didn’t react, but you knew he noticed. Knew he was already calculating his next move.

Think, Kevin.

You weren’t the only ones in danger. Your coworkers—terrified, vulnerable—were too close. Too easy to kill. And these men… they weren’t bluffing.

The leader chuckled. “Decisions, decisions.”

Kevin didn’t hesitate. In an instant, he moved.

The shift was so fast it was almost imperceptible—one moment he was standing still, the next he was on them. His hand shot forward, ice crackling at his fingertips, aiming for the nearest enemy—

Only for the leader’s presence to surge.

A crushing force slammed into Kevin like a wall. His momentum stalled.

For the first time since you’d met him, Kevin staggered.

“Not so easy, is it?”

Kevin clenched his jaw, already adjusting, already adapting.

But you knew.

He wasn’t at full strength.

And these men knew exactly what they were doing.

The leader didn’t give Kevin time to recover.

Before Kevin could strike again, the pressure intensified—crushing, suffocating, like an invisible force pinning him in place. You saw his muscles tense, his body resisting, but for the first time, Kevin wasn’t just unstoppable.

He was being held back.

"You feel it, don't you?" he mused. "The weight? The restraint? It's designed for people like you. Those with overwhelming power, too dangerous to be left unchecked." He smirked. "You’re strong. But strength means nothing if you can’t use it."

"You have two options," the leader continued, gesturing to the hostages. "Join us, or decide which of them dies first."

The temperature spiked.

The suppression was strong, yes. But Kevin was adaptive. And right now, his ice was useless. But fire?

Fire was different.

And Kevin, despite his injuries, moved fast. In one swift motion, he grabbed you—yanked you toward him, shielding you with his body as a blast of heat surged through the room. The suppression cracked just enough for him to act.

But not without cost.

Because in that same moment, a blade slashed through his side.

The leader had expected this. Counted on it. And Kevin, despite his speed, despite his strength, wasn’t untouchable.

His body jerked slightly at the impact, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he twisted, using the momentum to hurl you out of immediate danger, straight into Rowan’s grasp.

Then he turned back to the fight.

He had made his choice.

He wasn’t going with them.

And he wasn’t letting them win.

The battle ended in chaos.

Kevin had won. The leader was down, the remaining men either unconscious or fleeing. The oppressive force that once restrained him was gone, shattered beneath his relentless strength.

But something was wrong.

Pain flared through your body—You barely registered the moment you collapsed, barely noticed the blood staining your clothes.

"No!"

He was at your side in an instant, faster than your mind could process. His hands hovered over, the fear in his eyes couldn't be hid.

Your breath came in ragged gasps. Distantly, you heard Rowan’s voice—panicked, but it was Kevin’s grip that stabilized you.

"Stay awake," he ordered, "You have to stay awake."

You tried to respond, tried to tell him you were fine, but the words wouldn't come.

Then, for the briefest moment, you saw something in his face—something haunted.

As if he had seen this before.

---

Relief flooded his expression when he realized you were still breathing, still alive. His hold tightened slightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

When you woke up, everything hurt.

Your vision was hazy, the dull beep of a heart monitor filling the quiet room. The air smelled of antiseptic, the blankets felt too stiff, and—

Why is there so much yelling?

“You don’t understand.” Kevin’s voice—low, firm, but unmistakably angry. “Let me in.”

“We can’t—” Someone—probably a nurse tried to reason with him, but Kevin wasn’t having it.

“Move.”

“Sir, we have rules—”

“Kevin, please,” Rowan’s voice now, exasperated and desperately apologetic. “You can’t just barge in like a walking snowstorm—”

“You think rules matter?” Kevin sounded genuinely offended. “Y/N almost died.”

You sighed, the noise barely above a whisper, but apparently, it was loud enough.

Because within seconds, the door slammed open.

Kevin stood there, looking like he was two seconds away from freezing the entire hospital. Rowan was right behind him, muttering rapid apologies to the poor staff, who were wisely keeping their distance.

“You’re awake.”

“…Yeah”

Kevin was at your side in an instant, looking you over, as if making sure you were still real. His fingers twitched—like he wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure if he should.

Rowan sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Okay, now that you’re here, can you stop acting like a wild animal?”

Kevin ignored her.

“…You’re okay?” His voice was quieter now, barely above a murmur.

You blinked up at him, tired but amused. “Dunno, Kev. You tell me. You’re the one scaring the doctors.”

Rowan snorted.

Kevin looked unimpressed. But the tension in his shoulders eased. Just a little.

Kevin didn’t leave your side after that.

Not when the doctors checked your vitals, not when Rowan tried to convince him to go home and rest, not when visiting hours technically ended. If anyone even thought about kicking him out, one look at his expression shut them up immediately.

You weren’t going to win this one.

So, you sighed, shifting slightly in bed. “Kevin.”

His attention snapped to you instantly.

“You don’t have to hover,” you muttered. “I’m not dying.”

Kevin didn’t look convinced. His gaze flickered to your bandages, to the faint strain in your voice. “…I won’t leave.”

Rowan groaned, rubbing her temples. “Of course you won’t.” But she didn’t argue anymore. Instead, she stood, stretching. “Fine. If you’re gonna stay, I’m going home. Someone has to make sure Pebble doesn’t eat my shoes.”

You gave her a weak thumbs-up as she left, mumbling something about ferrets and stress.

Then it was just you and Kevin.

He pulled a chair closer, settling in, still watching you carefully.

You raised an eyebrow. “Gonna stare at me all night?”

“…I can tell you a joke.”

Oh no.

You groaned, already regretting everything. “Kevin, no—”

He ignored you. “Why don’t skeletons fight each other?”

You turned your head, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Kevin.”

“Because they don’t have the guts.”

You made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a pained wheeze. “Please stop.”

Kevin almost looked pleased with himself. “You’re smiling.”

You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t. Not really. Because for all his bad jokes, all his stubbornness, all his silence and hidden thoughts

Kevin had stayed.

#yandere x reader #yandere #honkai impact 3rd #hi3rd #kevin kaslana #honkai impact x reader #heliosluckyegg

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writhyv · 14 days ago

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⋆｡°✩ a gift from japan ✦ nishimura riki

he's not getting boring is he? he's not being too different from what you were before right? even if you say things to reassure him, it'll just bug his mind over and over … maybe he needs some ideas to spice it up? hmmm … i mean googling about it shouldn't hurt …

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — nishimura riki x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — fluff, lil cracky, will be suggestive, implied male!reader, implied long time relationship with riki, childhood friends (?), something's definitely going to happen and I will be SEATED

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — UHHH just know that ni-ki did this to himself, this is his FAULT for being so fuckin cute AFAGFRGFHRGHHGHHH!!!! dissapears from the face of the earth

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.3k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ looking for my main masterlist? — here's the legacy one!

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

You sighed, rolling your stiff shoulders as you pushed open the front door, toeing off your shoes with a tired groan. Work had been a beast—endless meetings, last-minute revisions, and a client who seemed allergic to the word "deadline." All you wanted was to collapse onto the couch with your boyfriend and forget the world existed for a few hours.

But the moment you stepped inside, the air shifted.

The usual clutter of Ni-ki’s dance gear and half-empty water bottles was gone. The living room was dim, lit only by the warm glow of candles—real ones, not the battery-operated ones you usually kept around because someone had nearly set the curtains on fire last time. The scent of something—was that garlic?—drifted from the kitchen, mingling with something floral. Roses?

Your eyebrows shot up.

"Riki?"

No answer.

A quick sweep of the apartment revealed the dining table—set with your good plates, the ones you only pulled out for special occasions. A single red rose lay across your napkin. The pasta in the center looked… charred at the edges, but the effort was unmistakable.

Your chest warmed. Anniversary. You’d completely forgotten.

A rustling sound came from the bedroom. And then, a thud.

Oh have you already figured it out.

"Riki?" you called again, voice laced with amusement. "If you’re hiding in there, I swear—"

The door creaked open.

And then—

Holy shit.

There he stood, bathed in the golden light of the bedside lamp, completely naked—save for the disaster of red ribbons haphazardly wrapped around his body.

As the door creaked, he turned towards you, face struck with disaster seeing you seeing him still not ready.

A stash of ribbon looped around his waist like a belt, others tangled around his biceps in a way that looked more accidental than artistic.

A single bow sat crookedly on his hip, barely clinging on. His face was flushed, his usually confident smirk wobbling into something painfully unsure.

"Shi- I mean ... Surprise?" He said, voice cracking.

You blinked. And then, you lost it.

A loud, unfiltered laugh burst out of you, doubling you over as you clutched your stomach. *"Oh my god—*what—what is happening right now?!"

Ni-ki’s expression flickered between mortification and defiance. "I—I researched this!" he insisted, gesturing wildly—which only made the ribbon around his wrist slip further. "It was supposed to be romantic!"

"Romantic?" you wheezed. "You look like a craft store exploded on you!"

"I panicked!" he whined, trying—and failing—to adjust the mess of fabric. *"The tutorial made it look easy, but then I couldn’t—why is this so complicated?!"

"Tuto- they have this on Youtube?!" You wheezed.

"Tumblr, okay? Tumblr!" Ni-ki whined, his art piece moving around as his frame did.

You wiped tears from your eyes, stepping closer. "Okay, okay—let me help." You gently tugged at a loose ribbon near his collarbone. "This one’s just… hanging here. Were you trying to tie it like a scarf?"

Ni-ki groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "I give up. This is the worst anniversary surprise ever."

You bit back another laugh, cupping his cheeks. *"No, no—it’s perfect."

He peeked, slowly, through his slender fingers. "...Really?"

"Really," you grinned. "I mean, yeah, it’s ridiculous—but that’s you. My ridiculous, over-the-top, adorable boyfriend who—" You paused, eyes trailing down. "—somehow thought ribbons were the key to seduction."

Ni-ki pouted. "It worked, though."

You snorted. "Did it?"

"You’re looking," he pointed out smugly.

"Hard not to when you’re basically a present with a bow on your—" You gestured vaguely. "—well, everything."

He laughed then, bright and unrestrained, the sound melting into the apartment's quiet. For a moment, the absurdity of it all faded—the ribbons, the burnt pasta, the fact that you’d forgotten today was special. None of it mattered.

Because he was here. Yours.

You brushed a thumb over his cheek, voice softening. "You didn’t have to do all this, you know."

Ni-ki leaned into your touch, his earlier bravado fading into something quieter. "I wanted to. You’ve been working so hard… I just—" He hesitated. "I didn’t want you to think that ..."

'That?" You looked at him, with his eyes reciprocating a yearning gaze.

"That I was ... getting boring."

Your heart clenched.

"Hey," you murmured, pressing your forehead to his. "You could never be boring. You’re the guy who came up to me first when I was a new kid and showed me around Shibuya even though we hadn't told our parents about it."

Ni-ki laughed. "The same day too—"

"The same day too!" You chuckled. "That was my first day, and I went with the popular kid on a trip downtown!"

Both of you laughed at the memory, Ni-ki beating your arms as his body couldn't contain his laughter.

"Also, who proposed to me with a pack of those golden Haribo gummies he so hardly earned after a week and cried when I said yes. Who still tries to make me carry him to bed even though he's taller than me now—"

"You can still do it!" he protested.

"You're past 6 foot!"

"And I'm light as a feather—"

You kissed him.

Slow, sweet, lingering—until the tension in his shoulders melted away, until your hands found his waist, pulling him a bit closer.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were warm, his smile small but real.

"I love you," you whispered. "Ribbons or no ribbons."

Ni-ki exhaled, resting his head against your shoulder. "...Even if the pasta’s burnt?"

"Even then."

A beat of silence. Then—

"...So," he drawled, fingers tracing idle patterns on your hip. "Since you do like the ribbons…"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh my god."

"Wanna unwrap your gift?" His voice dropped, lips brushing your ear. "I hear it’s one of a kind."

You groaned, half-exasperated, half-aroused. "You’re impossible."

Ni-ki grinned, all teeth. "But you love me."

And as the candles flickered, as the pasta sat forgotten, as his hands slid under your shirt with far too much confidence for someone literally tangled in ribbons—

You couldn’t argue.

"Yeah," you breathed, tugging him back toward the bed. "I really do."

Right there, you could feel his warmth once again, bathing your lips in such sweet harmony.

The kiss deepened, slow and syrupy, his mouth against yours. The ridiculousness of the ribbons faded into the background—now all you could focus on was the way his hands slid up your back, the way his breath hitched when you bit his lower lip.

You pulled back just enough to murmur against his mouth, "So. These ribbons."

Ni-ki grinned, all mischief. "What about them?"

"They're everywhere," you laughed, plucking at the one draped over his shoulder. "How did you even manage to find the time and prepare all this?"

He huffed, but his cheeks flushed darker. "I just had time, you know? Also, it's harder than it looks." His fingers twitched against your waist. "Maybe you should... help me out."

"Oh?" You arched a brow, dragging a fingertip along the ribbon circling his wrist. "You want me to fix this mess?"

Ni-ki’s breath stuttered. "I want you to take it all off."

Your stomach flipped.

Slowly, teasingly, you tugged at the loose end of the ribbon around his wrist. It unraveled with a whisper of silk, pooling at his feet. Your fingers trailed up his arm, following the path of another ribbon—this one looped haphazardly around his bicep. You tugged, and it slipped free, revealing the smooth, sun-kissed skin beneath.

Ni-ki watched you with half-lidded eyes, his chest rising and falling just a little faster now.

"Like what you see?" he murmured, voice rough.

You smirked. "I might."

Another ribbon, this one slung low around his waist, barely holding on. You tugged it free with a slow pull, letting your knuckles graze his hipbone. His breath caught.

"Tease," he accused, but he didn’t stop you.

You hummed, stepping closer, your chest nearly brushing his. "You wrapped yourself up like a present," you murmured, fingers skimming the last ribbon—the one pretending to cover him, tied in a loose bow at his hip. "What did you think was gonna happen?"

Ni-ki’s throat bobbed. "This," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Your fingers curled around the final ribbon.

"Happy anniversary," you whispered back—

And pulled.

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — okay i just had too THAT RECENT CLIP OF HIM RINGIN THE BELL AND PRESENTING HIMSELF?!?! HEAD TO TOE AS A GIFT?!?1 YES PLEASE?!?! so here is a fic based on that, you are SO welcome sahjfahfjas

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

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moody-alcoholic · 8 months ago

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These Violent Delights

Chapter 3 - Fragile

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe. 9.4k words. Dynamics are starting to change, things are happening fast but the search for a cure and your upcoming heat has got everyone on edge.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (scenting, claiming, heats), descriptions of a period, descriptions of medical procedures, drawing blood, implied past SA (not 141), mentions of past abuse, hurt/comfort, angst.

AN: Who am I kidding I can't stick to a schedule, I get too excited. Happy Wednesday, I'll try posting once a week at least. There's a lot going on though, chapters are getting beefy.

Previous - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

You wake in agony. It’s like a thousand daggers in your abdomen. You know what it is, you could feel the twinges of it yesterday. It's your period. It’s right before your heat too. You turn in bed, each movement is painful. You have to drag yourself out, leaving the warmth of your sheets to sliver on the floor.

You don’t dare look at the sheets. You should have asked Dr. Piper for a mattress protector. Fuck. You’re mad at her. She lied to you. You have to do this without her help. You kneel by your bed pulling the duvet off. The pool of blood has stained through the sheets straight through the mattress.

He’s going to be so mad. You give yourself a second on the floor to adjust. Then you use all the strength you have to pull yourself up to your feet, gripping your stomach in pain. A whine leaves your lips as you grit your teeth, blowing out a lung full of air. You can do this, you've done this alone before, you can do it again, you just need to get to the bathroom.

You look down the hall. The place looks empty. You can’t hear anything. You don’t know what time it is, but it's just turning light out. The scent of alpha and beta is heavy in the air, the place is calm, you’re trying to keep it that way. You make it all the way down the hall to the bathroom. You don’t care that it's shared, you just need to get to a toilet.

Your head is spinning from the pain now. You just want to sit down, biting the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from crying out. You make it in the bathroom walking past the showers to the cubicles, the first toilet you see you swivel round and sit down. You lean your head against the cold tiled wall, blowing out breaths of air. Even breathing is painful. You’re still sleepy, head spinning. You’ll rest here for a bit, just to catch your breath.

...

You blink awake to your name being called, cold hands on your cheeks.

“I came in and she was flat out on the floor.” You turn your head slightly, you see boots but you can’t focus on the man they’re attached to.

“Hey, look here.” You recognize that voice: it's Dr. Piper. Suddenly the pain comes back in your belly and you groan, your hands flying to press on your abdomen, trying to give yourself any sort of relief.

“I know honey, I know. We’re going to get you to bed and get you some pain relief,” she says rubbing your shoulder. Shit, the bed.

“The bed.” You try to force your body up. You need to change the sheets before he finds out. Piper is trying to push you back down to the floor.

“Yes, we’re going back to bed,” she says. You don’t have the energy to fight her grip. You shake your head.

“He’ll be mad. The bed, it’s a mess,” you say. You hear her sigh, her cool hands leave your shoulder as she stands up.

“Johnny, can you take her into my room?” she says. You close your eyes trying to wish away the pain.

“’Course.” You feel an arm scoop under your knees and one around your back. You moan in pain as your body is lifted off the ground. You cry out, gripping Johnny’s shirt.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he says, carrying you out of the room. You’re placed down in a bed.

The next thing you see is Piper leaning over you. You’re in different clothes, you can feel the familiar thick diaper between your legs. You’re in too much pain to feel embarrassed, you don’t care. Anyway, at least it’s only Dr. Piper. You look over at her as she pats your head with a damp cloth. You see you're hooked up to an IV. A chill runs through you, making you shiver.

“It’s okay, the pain relief will kick in soon,” she says. There’s a knock at the door, the sharp noise makes your head throb. Dr. Piper gets up to answer it leaving the cool cloth on your head. You close your eyes, gritting your teeth through the pain. You hear another voice, it’s Johnny you think.

“Is there anything we can do?” he asks.

“Yes actually, get into bed behind her, project your scent onto her,” Dr. Piper says. You hear movement, then Johnny shuffles up in the bed behind you. His hands rest on your shoulders as you bring your knees up to your chest. Each movement is pain, you sob as your body is moved.

His hands feel foreign, warm against your skin as he presses his chest against your back. He moves slowly like he’s trying not to spook you, his hands stay on your shoulders as he moves his arm under the pillows. It feels strange this is the closest you’ve been to any of them, you’re in too much pain to care though as he shuffles your body again.

“I’m sorry lass,” Johnny whispers in your ear as he settles down behind you. Piper is standing above you again. Her hand moves the towel from your head. There’s a calming scent in the air now, it hits your nose fast as you breathe it in.

“That’s it, get some rest,” she says, her cool fingers stroking your cheek. You close your eyes breathing in Johnny’s scent. It’s calming, he’s doing a good job. You don’t have the energy to thank him as he pulls you closer against his chest. The pain begins to dull as you drift back to sleep.

“I came as fast as I could, is she okay?” Price asks when he enters Dr. Montgomery’s room. She looks up from her laptop looking at Price for a second then over to you. Johnny is pressed up against your back snoring softly. Price walks over to you.

“She’s fine, she’ll be a bit out of it for the next 48 hours, but she’ll be fine,” she explains. Price looks over you, sweat dripping from your forehead. You look pale, clammy as his hand comes down to brush your cheek.

“She smells different,” Price says, flaring his nostrils.

“That’ll be John,” she says. “He’s projecting his scent on her, it keeps her calm and prevents her from being detected.” Price turns and flops down on a chair rubbing his forehead. Piper knows better than to pry. John is a busy man.

“How’s it going with whatever board you're talking with now?” she asks anyway.

“Classified,” he replies. She smiles.

“I can talk to them again if you want?” she offers. He shakes his head.

“Is it normally like this?” he asks, watching as Johnny shifts his arm around you.

“No, her heat is next month. The periods before and after heat are the worst.” He sighs. He still hasn’t decided if he wants to go through with this claiming process. He can feel it though, the instincts Dr. Montgomery talked about. He can’t fight it, it’s a primal ache to be with you, protect you. He wonders how Simon can deal with it so well, or at least hide it well enough. Dr. Montgomery had been compiling a list of the abuse you had been through. It was a long list. It made him feel sick, and it was worse knowing the Professor was still out there.

Laswell was on it. Her main reason for going back to Langley was to track him down so they could take him out. First she had to get through all the red tape, especially since the op to blow up the bunker was officially off the record. He told her to forward anyone who had a problem, or was causing issues to him. He still was waiting to hear back from General Shepherd, wanting to get him on a plane as soon as possible so John could explain the situation.

Right now he has more pressing things to worry about, mainly you and your upcoming heat. Dr. Montgomery had explained it a little but she wanted to wait until he had given her an answer about claiming you. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it wasn’t, but the overwhelming urge to be with you had only gotten stronger since the scenting at the previous base. He wanted to give you a choice though, something you’ve probably never had.

Dr. Montgomery said it was a good idea and has been encouraging him to spend more time with you before your heat. Right now his concern is you getting through this. Seeing you hurting, it’s almost like he’s hurting too, the urge to protect you and stay by your side is almost painful. It’s normal to feel that way, and it will only get worse after he claims you. At least that's what Dr. Montgomery said.

“How do heats work?” he asks.

“Heats are pretty easy. Omegas are made for one purpose: to breed. Heats happen twice a year, 6 months apart. Imagine it as ovulating only turned up to the max. Her body is preparing for babies, preparing to be pregnant. She won’t be aware of what is happening around her during that time. She has one goal, to mate with an alpha. You as the alpha have the responsibility to breed her, knot her,” Dr. Montgomery explains to him. He listens but she can tell he doesn’t quite understand.

“I’ve watched her go through so many heats, not once has she had what she needs.” She lowers her voice. “Imagine an itch, so bad it feels like your body is burning. Every nerve, every movement is pain, you can’t move, you can't speak, you can’t think. And it lasts for days. The only thing that makes it better or go away is an alpha, a knot. It’s not just being horny, it’s primal instincts. She will kill for an alpha, and you will kill to claim her.” John turns to see you laid peacefully in Johnny’s arms, his arm wrapped around your stomach.

“Do you get heats?” he asks. The question feels intrusive. He’s still getting used to the terminology.

“Beta heats are like alpha’s, once a year. I’ve already had mine,” she says bluntly.

“What happened in her last heats?” he asks, still watching your steady breathing.

“If Professor Hale was in a good mood he would throw her in a room with some sex toys and alpha pheromones and keep her locked up for a week.”

“And if he was in a bad mood?” John asks, the anger rising in the air. Piper swallows.

“When he was in a bad mood, he would invite his friends to play.”

You wake to someone shaking you.

“The doc said you need to eat something.” You blink pain still radiating through your body. It’s Gaz kneeling down by your head. You can smell something sweet as he holds a bowl up. You shift in the bed, the warmth you’ve been feeling behind you all day is gone.

“Where’s Johnny?” you ask, feeling pain deep in your stomach.

“He’ll be back in a bit, just eat something first.” He spoons some porridge bringing it up to your mouth. You open accepting it, it’s sweet. You swallow it down. He forces you to take a few more mouthfuls before you can’t take it anymore. You slump back down on the pillow realizing you’re in Piper’s room.

“Is he mad?” you ask, closing your eyes.

“Who?” he asks, patting your forehead with the damp cloth.

“John,” you say, your body feeling heavy. You don’t hear anyone respond.

Your dreams feel like fever dreams. Whatever pain medication Dr. Piper gave you makes you sleepy and turns the sharp stabbing pain into a dull throbbing in your belly. Johnny has been pressed up against you, you can smell him. Being a good beta projecting his scent to protect you while you’re out of it.

You have brief moments of consciousness, you hear Dr. Piper’s voice. John’s too, his scent is strong in the air cutting through the beta’s projection. Your dreams get worse. They feel so real. You’re back in the bunker with the Professor. All you can think about is your heat. It’s next month, within the next 4 weeks.

You hated the room you were quarantined in during that time. The way people would look at you while you’re writhing in pain. What if John didn’t want to claim you, would Simon do it? You don’t expect him to. Your only chance is with John, him or the Professor. That makes you feel sick, imagining him being your only option.

Johnny wakes you up for food. More sweet porridge, you can manage a bit more than before. He strokes your hair when you lay back down.

“You’ve been asleep for almost 24 hours,” he says. It’s been a day then. You look up at the IV bag you’ve been hooked up to. You still feel tired, and the dull pain is still there. You close your eyes again.

“Gaz’ll be in soon,” you hear Johnny say, his fingers brushing your cheek.

The next time you wake up, the pain is gone. Your body is stiff, almost uncomfortable. You turn to see Gaz squished up against your back. Dr. Piper is sitting at her desk typing on her laptop. A groan leaves your throat as you stretch your legs. Gaz’s arm pulls you closer to his chest. His scent is thick in the air. He always has a stronger scent than Johnny does, you’re not sure why.

Dr. Piper looks over seeing you awake. She comes over bending down, her fingers brushing a strand of hair out your face. Her fingers are cool, it makes you shiver. Gaz stirs behind you.

“You did good Kyle, go get something to eat.” Kyle’s arm leaves you as he scoots out the bottom of the bed.

“How do you feel?” Dr. Piper asks. You’re still mad at her.

“Fine,” you croak, your throat dry. She feels your forehead with the back of her hand. She lets out a sigh.

“You’ve been out for almost 2 days,” she says. “Johnny and Kyle have managed to get in a lot of practice projecting their scent.”

“That’s good,” you say. Dr. Piper smiles. She brings you some food, soup this time. You manage to eat most of it. The worst is over, the pain is still there but manageable at least. She takes you off the IV then helps you to the bathroom.

You take a long shower letting the hot water soak your stiff muscles before walking back down to your room and seeing the pile of blankets and pillows. You haven’t had time to make a nest. You want to though, when you have the energy. You go over to the bed. The mattress and sheets have been changed. You’ll need to apologize to John at some point.

Dr. Piper comes in with a hot water bottle as you climb into your bed.

“You haven’t nested yet?” she says looking at the pile of bedding and pillows. You shake your head, yawning. She places a glass of water and a packet of pills on your bedside table. She feels your forehead again before standing back up.

“Keep taking the painkillers every 4 hours. When you’re feeling better in a few days, come to the lab. I need a blood sample.” She smiles at you heading for the door. You nod at her as she hits the light before closing the door behind her. You look out the window at the trees in the distance. It doesn’t take long for sleep to find you.

You’re laid out on the sofa, a hot water bottle pressed against your abdomen, your eyes glued to the TV, some weird show with a bunch of people arguing. You’re cold, pulling the blanket around you. Everyone has been busy so you’ve been left alone.

Dr. Piper comes back to eat lunch with you and everyone else usually comes back late. It’s been like this for the last 3 days. Your period is pretty much finished, just another day then everything will be back to normal. Johnny is the first to come back, he slumps down in one of the chairs reaching down to pull his boots off.

“What’s going on?” he asks, gesturing at the TV.

“The blonde haired woman is mad that the woman with the pink dress didn’t come to her party,” you explain. You turn to look at him.

“What have you been doing?” you ask.

“Training, teaching. Price is trying to keep us busy while we don’t have anywhere to be.” You watch him lean back.

“What about you lass, been watching this all day?” You sigh, nodding.

“Well, I’ve been listening to LT scream at me all day. I could use a break.” He gets up off the chair picking up your legs and sitting down under them, resting his hand on your leg. You suck in a breath watching his hand lay there. A few days ago he was sleeping in bed behind you but his hand on your leg is too much? You turn your attention back to the TV.

“LT?” You ask.

“Simon, he’s in a bad mood,” Johnny says. His hands are warm on your leg as he starts to stroke it. You’re really trying hard to not overthink it, it’s just a hand and it feels nice.

“Why is he in a bad mood?”

“When is he not in a bad mood,” Johnny chuckles.

“I don’t think he likes me very much.” You sigh, you don’t see him much, he keeps his distance.

“He just needs to get to know you.” Johnny says. Maybe you should put more effort into getting to know him. Kind of hard if you never see him.

“What about John and Kyle?” You ask.

“Gaz is busy with some surveillance training and Price is always busy, he’s with Simon.” You hum, the women on the TV have stopped fighting.

“So did you get to watch any TV when you were...” He doesn’t finish the sentence. You look over at him.

“No, maybe once or twice,” you reply, Johnny nods.

“We’ll find him. Professor Hale. Price is already on it.” You look at him, you didn’t think they were even searching for him.

“What will you do if you find him?” you ask, swallowing to get the lump out your throat. Johnny shrugs.

“If he’s lucky he’ll be arrested, if he’s not he’ll be dead,” Johnny says bluntly. You turn back to the TV. You don’t know how you feel about the Professor dying. He hurt you, but he’s still one of the only other people who have been a constant in your life. You’re not bonded to him, thank god, but you feel like there would be something missing if he was gone. Don’t feel bad for him. He was a bad person, he hurt you, he doesn’t deserve a chance to live.

“Have you killed people before?” you ask him.

“Only the bad guys.” Johnny smiles. “Your Professor is one of the worst.”

“He’s not my Professor,” you say, pulling your legs off him and sitting up.

“Sorry, no I didn’t mean it like that of course he’s not your Professor,” Johnny says. It’s too late, you’re already mad. You stand up letting the blanket and hot water bottle fall on the sofa.

“He’s no one to me. He’s just a person, he’s not my Professor or my father. He’s a monster,” you say. You don’t want to cry in front of Johnny.

“Of course he is, love. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Johnny says, getting up off the sofa. You shake your head, stomping down to your room. You want to get out of here. You grab your jacket and put on some shoes. You’ll go see Dr. Piper. She needs some blood anyway. When you get back to the common room Gaz is walking in, taking his boots off.

“I’m going to the lab,” you say, zipping your jacket up as you walk out the door ignoring both of them.

The lab is busy, soldiers and scientists working as you walk in. You smell beta in the air. Some of the scientists look over at you, you don’t recognize any of them. Not that you would anyway. The only people you would really see in the bunker were Dr. Piper and the Professor. You feel embarrassed, you almost want to turn and go back to the safety of the barracks.

You look up seeing Dr. Piper come down the stairs. She stops half way gesturing you over and you follow her back up the steps. The second level looks like it’s all offices apart from the kitchen just at the top of the stairs, she leads you into a room. It’s kitted out like a medical exam room. Clean and clinical with a bed in the middle.

“Hop up,” Piper says, patting the end of the bed. You sit on it watching as she gathers supplies. This you’re used to, the familiar routine of being in a sterile exam room with Dr. Piper getting ready to poke and prod you. The only thing missing is the looming presence of the Professor standing in the corner.

“How are you feeling?” she asks. You’re still upset with her, but she’s been keeping her distance from you. You hold your arm out as she puts the tourniquet on.

“I’m fine,” you reply, keeping it quick. You watch her work. You’ve had your blood drawn so many times before, it’s stopped bothering you.

“What are you testing?” you ask. She fills up another vial, tipping it in her free hand.

“We need to find out which, if any of your chromosomes have been affected by the formula.” You look at her scrunching your brow.

“What’s chromosomes?”

“Your DNA. We can’t start to synthesize a cure if we don’t know how your DNA has been affected.” She rolls away on the stool as you hold the cotton ball on your arm. You’re still not sure how you feel about a cure. This life is all you’ve known, it’s all you have. You couldn’t imagine a life without being an omega, what would it even be like? You sigh hopping off the bed.

“What if I don’t want a cure?” you ask. She sighs.

“You don’t really have much of a choice. If this was a hospital I'd be giving you pamphlets of information, telling you to think about it.”

“I want a choice,” you say, standing your ground.

“I don’t even know if I can find a cure,” she scoffs, turning round to look at you.

“You’ll find a cure,” you say. You don’t doubt her abilities. You have to believe for at least their sake she can find one. They don’t deserve it, now that they’re your pack. When she finds a cure, they’ll just be people to you.

“I will try and find a cure,” she sighs, turning around to her paperwork, signing more things. You sigh, throwing the cotton ball in the trash, the puncture wound is already completely healed.

“We need to get ready for your heat,” she says, changing the subject, not turning away from what she’s doing. You swallow hard, heat rushing to your cheeks. You’re still mad at her.

“I haven’t spoken to John about it,” you admit. You’ve decided if you get a choice of who claims you, you want it to be him. You won’t get a choice though, it’s not your choice to make. You think back to what Dr. Piper said before you moved out here. It’s unusual for packs to have more than one alpha. They could end up ripping each other apart over you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“We could talk to him together?” she offers. You nod. She spins round on the stool to look at you.

“Do you like him? He’s a good alpha, strong and protective. He’ll take good care of you.”

“He is,” you reply. Do you like him? You like him, he’s kind to you, you trust him. You wish it was more than just chemicals.

“I’ll set up a meeting.” You nod leaving the room. You take one step forward before the scent of alpha fills your nose. It’s not John or Simon. There’s another alpha. It makes you nervous as you wait for the figure to step into your line of sight. You see him, tall and slender, not like other alphas you’ve seen. He turns from the tablet he’s working on you as he senses you. Dr. Piper makes you jump as she comes out of the room.

“Dr. Miller, the alpha specialist,” she explains as she pushes you towards the stairs. His eyes land on you following you as you leave his vision range. You can still smell him in the air. You want to get out of here. You leave Dr. Piper, rushing past the other scientists and out to the fresh air. You look over at the barracks, soldiers are walking around with massive weapons in their arms. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to that. You shake off the feeling of dread, your hand coming to rub the back of your neck. You start to make your way back to the barracks. You want to nest, you need a safe space.

You walk back into the building ignoring Johnny and Gaz calling out to you from the sofa. You head straight into your room. You look at the pile of pillows and blankets still under the window. This is the best place to build a nest. You move your hands over the pillows picking out the fluffiest ones and spreading the blankets out. Hairs raise on the back of your neck, someone is in your space. Your body snaps round still gripping on the pillow.

"Get out!” you snap. Johnny is standing at the threshold of the door. You smell his beta scent but right now he’s a threat. He backs up with his hands in the air. You turn back to your nest. It has to be perfect, you drop to your knees rearranging pillows and blankets.

You don’t know how long you’re doing it for, you mess with it until it’s perfect then curl up between the pillow’s pulling a blanket over you. You smile, you can smell the fresh air through the window above you. This feels good, a true safe space for you.

A knock at the door wakes you from a blissful nap. You're curled up in your nest, you’ve drooled all over a pillow. You look up seeing John in the doorway.

“I heard you shouted at Johnny today,” he says.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was making my nest,” you say, pulling yourself out of it and going towards him. He crosses his arms.

“It’s okay, Dr. Montgomery said it was normal.”

“I’ll apologise,” you say, getting up to your feet. John chuckles, shaking his head.

“I thought we could go for a walk?” he says. You nod enthusiastically. You don’t get to see John or Simon much. You like spending time with John. You pull your jacket and shoes on following him out of the building. He leads you through the base to an entrance gate. You get excited being able to see the forest. You wrap your arm around his in excitement as he leads you out the base. You walk down the road a bit to a dirt path leading into the forest.

“It’s beautiful,” you say looking up at the light breaking through the treetops. It’s early evening, the sky is starting to lighten up in different shades of orange and pink.

“Dr. Montgomery said we should have a meeting about your heat,” he says. You feel nervous all of a sudden, squeezing his arm.

“Yeah. It’s okay though we don’t have to talk about it now,” you say. He sighs, his hand coming to rest on yours.

“I think it’s good that we spend time with each other.” It’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“I like spending time with you,” you say. It’s not because he’s an alpha, you like spending time with him.

“You like the outdoors,” he says as a matter of fact.

“I do. I like the trees, I like the smell.”

“Dr. Montgomery said heats are hard”

“I never remember much.” You stop walking, memories flooding back. You can’t explain it to him. He moves, stepping in front of you. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, he's looking into your eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes. I don’t remember much but I remember the pain. It’s like an ache, it’s like an unbearable itch you can’t get rid off.” You say looking down at the floor. It makes your skin crawl thinking about it. You wish it was the only thing you could remember.

“You need an alpha,” he says, his voice low. You nod.

“You don’t have to do it, I'm used to being alone—”

“You’re not going to be alone again.” His words cut you off. You don’t know what to say, you look back up at him.

“I don’t expect you to be there for me.”

“I’m going to be there for you,” he says kissing your forehead. It makes you freeze, you’ve never had this kind of contact with him before. You feel his lips linger on you longer than you expect. You can smell him, his honesty and his uncertainty.

“You’re kind. You are a good person John. You don’t have to do this. It’s okay, you’re an alpha, I’m an omega, it’s just chemicals inside us.” You wish it was different, it makes you sad. You like John, you want to like him. You wish you could love him.

“You went through hell, regardless of the crazy hormones.” He strokes the tears off your cheek, you don’t know why you’re upset. You secretly hoped that there could be something more there. They’re all so nice, but you know when they’re around you it’s just instincts. Maybe you do want a cure, maybe you would like to get to know them as people rather than as alpha and beta.

“You will never be alone again. I promise.” Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes still digging in you, deep and blue, they remind you of the lakes in your dreams. You smile at him. You don’t know if you believe it or not but you want to make him happy. That's your job, to be a good omega for him. He moves back to the side of you, his arm gripping your waist pulling you up against him as you continue walking.

You come to an opening in the forest. There's a lake. It’s not deep but the water is clean, dark against the bright evening sky. You watch as the water ripples in the breeze, it’s beautiful, a place of solitude only broken by the sounds of nature. You want to throw yourself into the water, you want to feel the sandy embankment between your toes.

“I thought you would like it.” John smiles, squeezing you. The air is rich with the smell of your happiness. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt this happy.

The last time you felt this calm.

The last time you felt this safe.

You close your eyes letting the smell of the forest fill your nose. John’s arm moves to the small of your back. His hand is warm, his thumb rubs circles. You can hear the birds, the wind in the trees, smell the scent of damp wood. You can hear the waves slamming on the embankment.

“John, what’s England like?” you ask as he moves up behind you, his chest pressing against your back. You can feel his breaths, his chest expanding behind you. It’s like your dreams as the scent of his alpha fills the air. It’s mellow, comforting, the smell of the ground after rain and smoke.

“England is cold and wet, a lot like here actually,” he says, his voice is hot in your ear.

“I like the sound of that,” you say smiling. “Do you think I could go there one day?” His hands rest on your shoulders and he gives you a squeeze. You open your eyes.

“I don’t see why not,” he says. What you really want to ask is if you can go with him.

“Are you going to claim me?” you ask eventually.

“Do you want me to?” he asks.

“It’s not my decision, it's yours.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“It’s not how it works,” you explain, scoffing. He turns you around so you’re looking at him, gripping your shoulders.

“Says who? The Professor, Dr. Montgomery?” You nod, he smiles.

“I say you get to choose.” His voice is low and sincere. He’s giving you a choice. You’ve never had a choice before. What happens if you say no? Your only other options are Simon or the Professor. There’s the new alpha too. The alpha specialist, but you know nothing about him. You look around John’s face. You trust him. You already decided if you had a choice you would choose him, but now you have the choice to say no.

“I want it to be you. If I have a choice.” There, you said it. You watch as his expression softens. “What about you?”

“I choose you too. And I know what you’re going to say; ‘it’s just because I'm an alpha.’ I choose you, even if it is just instinct I want to be there for you. We’re all going to be there for you.” When he finishes you throw yourself in his arms wrapping your hands around his back.

“We’re pack right? We need to be there for each other. Until the day we have a cure we will take care of each other.” You smile. You want to cry, but you don’t know why. You breathe in his scent, you smell the honesty, the sincerity. Whatever doubt he had before is gone. You break away from the hug looking up at him. He smiles at you, tipping his head to the side.

“Thank you,” you say. You project your scent in the air. His hands come up to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. You smile as you watch his eyes dilate. You like that look in his eyes. You did that, your scent did that. There’s a chill in the air making you shiver. It blows his scent on you, and you breathe it in.

“You okay?” he asks. You nod, gripping his arms. You can feel his strong muscles flexing as he moves to wrap his arms around you.

“Lets head back,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You could get used to this.

“John, you’re a good alpha,” you say, leaning against him as he leads you back towards the dirt path.

“You’re a good omega. You just haven’t been treated right.” You smile at the praise. It’s the first praise you felt you’ve had in years, and from an alpha no less. Your alpha, the alpha that will claim you in a few weeks.

You don’t want to go back, you like being out in the forest, it’s getting dark though and there is a chill in the air. You wonder how Simon feels about all this, maybe this could be a good ice breaker. Or maybe if he knows John’s going to claim you he’ll want even less to do with you. You try no to think about it, you had a good time with John, you don’t want thinking about Simon to ruin it. He’ll come to you when he’s ready you’re sure of it.

Piper is sat at one of the tables, looking through a folder of results. She doesn’t have much to work with since they don’t have a sample of the original formula. She could try and recreate it but it could take months. She sighs, picking up another piece of paper, another failed result.

She’s had everyone working on artificially creating pheromones, at least then they can work on scent blockers and hopefully a way to help Simon through your heat. At least she won’t have to worry about his own for a year.

John said he would claim you but he wanted to talk to you first to give you a choice. She tried to explain to him that it doesn’t matter, when you’re in heat you won’t care. Maybe it’s just a psychological thing.

Regardless, it’s not her job to tell an alpha what to do. She looks out the window, the sun is setting, everyone has gone for the night, she should get some food. She looks back at the stack of papers. No, she needs to at least get through this round of testing so they have a better idea of what to work on tomorrow.

Your heat is less than a month away, and she needs to be prepared. It’s going to be new to all of them. At least John made the right call. she’s not going to have to worry about you going through your heat alone. Now she has to focus on Simon and getting him through it.

“Getting anywhere?” The voice makes Piper yelp, her hand flying to her chest. She spins round on the stool, it’s Simon. He really is silent on his feet. He’s good at protecting his scent too, almost as good as a beta.

“I’m going to buy a bell for you Lieutenant Riley,” Piper says, spinning back around. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“It’s quiet here,” he says as he moves to look over at the pile of folders on the desk. She runs her hand through her hair. She’s still thinking about the conversation earlier. You don't want a cure? Maybe she should have been gentler, or maybe you needed someone to keep telling you what to do. She signs the last paper, throwing the pen down.

“You good?” Simon asks. She looks up at him. She wishes he wasn’t wearing the mask, she wishes she didn’t have to psychoanalyze him right now. She can’t look weak, she has to keep together, she’s not part of their pack which makes her an outsider. They only want her for one thing. She nods, picking up the papers and shuffling them into a folder.

“How are things with you and Captain Price?” She asks. She’s pushing him but it’s the best way to get results, she’s learned.

“Fine.”

“What about you and the omega?” Piper asks, looking as he finishes thumbing through another stack of papers.

“She seems nice,” he says.

“She is nice, it’s not her fault you’re in this position.” She sighs. It’s been a week and he’s still avoiding you as much as he can.

“I know.” He nods. Piper smiles, at least he’s not blaming you anymore.

“Her heat is due in a few weeks, are you worried?” Piper asks. She keeps pushing him, she knows she shouldn’t, remembering the last time they were together like this. His scent in the air, alpha on full display. He stays silent.

“I’m working on something to help you,” she says.

“I don’t need help,” he says, his voice harsh, his response quick.

“You’re going to need it,” Piper says. She waits, watching him look around the room, waiting for him to talk again.

“What are you going to do?” he asks eventually.

“I’ve been working on a few ideas. The least invasive thing would be to quarantine you away from the alpha and the omega until the heat is over,” she says.

“I could also try some kind of hormone blocker, it will stop the urge to try and mate with her. You may still be affected by the alpha though.” He hums.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to do it? Find a cure?” he asks. She looks up at him meeting his eye line. It makes shivers run down her spine. She has no idea. She wants to lie, give him hope, he could use the hope right now.

“I don’t know,” she says. It's the truth. She doesn’t know if she can handle him screaming at her right now. She’s expecting him to shout, expecting him to be angry.

“What do you need from me?” She looks at him confused.

“For the hormone blocker,” he says. Piper stands up off the stool.

“Just a blood sample. I can take it now if you want?” she says, opening a cupboard. Simon nods, moving over to sit on one of the stools. Piper comes around swiveling to sit in front of him. He rolls his sleeve up, she can see slashes and cuts on his arms.

“That one’s nasty,” she says, pulling some gloves on. He doesn’t say anything, just finishes rolling his sleeve up past his elbow.

“You don’t have to talk about it, I’m just curious. I’ve seen scars like them before,” she says tying the tourniquet round his arm.

“When?” he asks.

“The Professor had military friends.” Piper shrugs, getting comfortable aiming the needle. “You don’t have to look.”

“I heard it hurts less when you look.”

“It doesn't hurt.” She smiles.

“How does the chemical decide who’s an alpha or an omega?” he asks.

“Do you have 5 hours to listen to me talk about genetics?” Piper asks, shaking the blood vial in her hand. She looks at him. His eyes are serious.

“There are certain genetic sequences that, when the chemical detects them, it picks alpha, beta or omega.”

“Like what?” he asks.

“Well, we didn’t exactly have a big pool to work with. Almost everyone is a beta. Alphas and omegas are special. Omegas can only be female, it’s a biology thing. Their only job is to breed.” Simon scoffs as Piper presses a cotton ball on his arm.

“You can’t fight biology,” she says, scooting to the other side of the table.

“You created a chemical weapon that changes people’s biology,” he says. This time Piper can see him raising his eyebrow.

“ I didn’t create anything,” she says, taking her gloves off. “And it’s not as simple as that.”

“Sounds pretty simple.” He stays standing up. Piper sighs, he’s closed off again.

“How long will it take you to figure this out?” he asks, pulling his sleeve back down.

“I’m not sure, give me a day at least. I’ll have to talk to the alpha specialist,” she says as Simon turns to leave.

“There’s another alpha here?” he asks. The energy changes.

“Dr. Miller. He left before me. He was the only alpha that managed to get out.”

“Why did he kill all the alphas?” Simon asks. Piper sighs.

“Packs struggle to function with more than one alpha,” she says, looking up at him synthetically. He crosses his arms, his head tipping down. Shit.

“It doesn’t mean it can’t work,” she says quickly standing up. He just scoffs, shaking his head and turning to leave.

“Simon!” She calls gripping the desk. Shit.

You make it back into the barracks with John following behind you. Johnny is sat watching TV while Kyle is in the kitchen. Simon’s not around, but you’re used to that.

“How was your date?” Johnny asks, chuckling. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, it wasn’t a date. John’s hand lands on the small of your back as you walk inside. You did enjoy the time with John, you enjoyed seeing the forest and the lake. The door opens, you can smell the alpha in the air, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. It’s Simon and he seems angry.

“Can I have a word?” Simon looks at you and you feel even more embarrassed, your hand moving to the back of your neck. John nods as his hand leaves your back, and they both walk over to his office. The door slams shut. You look over at Johnny. He puts his arm round the back of the sofa.

“Come sit, lass,” he says, nodding at the spot next to him. You ignore him, walking over to stand outside the door of John’s office, you can hear them talking.

“Don’t be silly Simon, sit down,” you hear John say. Kyle pokes his head round the corner, he must be able to hear them too. One of the many perks, heightened sense of smell and hearing. Kyle moves to listen with you.

“Dr. Montgomery explained why there is only one alpha and why Professor Hale disposed of the rest of them.” You can smell his anger through the door. His alpha on full display, it makes you shiver.

“Simon, she said we can make it work so we’ll make it work,” John replies. He sounds calm, collected, you can’t smell him through Simon’s overwhelming scent. Johnny comes up behind you laying his hands on your shoulders.

“What do we know though? This cure could take years, we could be stuck like this for years,” Simon snaps as he’s moving around the room.

“Then we get on with it, there isn’t much we can do. Dr. Montgomery is still our best hope,” John says.

“I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being around her. She’s…intoxicating, I can’t ignore her anymore, she’s...” Simon let out a frustrated sigh. Are they talking about you?

“You know what it’s like, the only difference is you get to act on it. And I have to pretend it’s nothing.” They are talking about you. Johnny must know it too as he squeezes your shoulders.

“Calm down, I’m sure the doctor can figure something out. We can figure something out. This is new to all of us, it’s going to take time,” Price says. You hear Simon scoff.

“Transfer me,” he says, which makes Johnny and Kyle gasp.

“I’m not transferring you, I need you here.”

“You don’t need me training rookies till we have a cure,” he snaps back. This time you hear John sigh. There's silence. You feel sick, you caused this. You’ve caused a rift in the pack. You should have stayed in the bunker, you should have fought them off and gone down with it. You try to shrug Johnny’s hands off you but he holds you tight.

“Medical discharge then?” You hear John laugh.

“It’s not easy for any of us Simon,” you hear John say. There’s something in his voice, you wish you could smell him, but Simon’s anger is still thick in the air.

“Seems like you’re doing well,” he scoffs. You hear John sigh.

“You’re angry, you’re worried, go get some air before you say something you regret,” John says.

“If I do, will it get me discharged quicker?”

“Oh shite ,” You hear Johnny whisper behind you as he shoots Kyle a look.

“Simon go get some air, we can have this conversation when you’ve calmed down,” John says. You hear movement but you don’t move frozen in place. Kyle and Johnny move away quick enough, but you’re still standing there when Simon opens the door in your face. You can see the anger in his eyes, the scent of his alpha strong it makes you dizzy. He goes to take a breath like he’s about to shout at you, his hands balled into fists.

“Lieutenant!” You hear John shout, you're holding your breath staring up at him. He huffs, shaking his head and heading for the door.

“Simon,” you call, he pauses. “I really am sorry you’re in this position.” You watch him waiting to see what he’s going to do. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run and hide. He sighs and continues to the door slamming it behind him as he leaves. The overwhelming scent leaves the building with him.

“Soap, you’re on babysitting duty, Gaz go get me Dr. Montgomery.” You turn to see John stood in the doorway of his office. This is all your fault. You caused this. You walk to your room. You want to run and hide in your nest. John’s hand grabs your arm as you pass him. You flinch. He drops his hand and you back away from him, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you say, fighting back the tears sprinting to your room slamming the door behind you and throwing yourself into your nest, pulling the blankets over you, sobbing as quietly as you can.

Piper walks into John's office, closing the door behind her.

“Sit.” She nods, she can smell something in the air. Even with training she’s not as good as an omega. There was something there though, his expression is neutral, but he looks tired.

“What’s the timeline on finding a cure?” he asks. She shakes her head holding her hands up.

“I have no idea,” she replies, shaking her head. It’s the truth.

“What do you need?” John asks. She sighs again, shrugging as she looks at him exasperated.

“I don’t know John, I still have to figure out a plan. We’re working on it,” she says.

“Anything? Anything at all, even if it seems impossible,” he says. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“A sample of the original formula and some pharmaceutical researchers. I don’t know because I haven’t had time to make a plan,” she says trying to keep her voice level.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” she says, shaking her head.

“You destroyed the formula when you blew up the base.”

“I can get you the researchers though.” She watches his face. She doesn’t know what to say.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asks. He shakes his head. She stands up heading for the door. Stopping before she opens the door.

“There is a way you can get a sample of the formula. It’s not a newer version of the formula but it’s better than nothing.” She turns to look at him.

“Professor Hale kept a copy of the original formula in his home lab. I would assume he would still have it.”

“Where’s his home?” John asks, leaning back in his chair.

“He has a mansion in Wisconsin, that's where his home lab is. I would not be surprised if he is elsewhere though. He has an apartment in Manhattan and a beach house in Florida,” she explains.

“It would have been nice to know this sooner,” John says.

“Yeah well you didn’t ask and I’m busy trying to find a cure and get ready for the omega’s heat,” she says, turning to leave the room. “I’ll send you an e-mail with the details.”

She walks out the room heading back to the lab. It was going to be a long night. When she gets back to the lab the whole place is dark save the single light over the table she’d been working on and the light from her office. She can smell it in the air. Alpha.

“You don’t have to hide Simon,” she says, going over to the table as Simon steps out the shadows. Piper goes to sit down at her chair. He stands on the other side of her desk, his arms crossed.

“You had a fight with John? You told me it was going well,” she says, sighing, pulling another file over to her. He doesn’t say anything, his alpha is strong in the air. He does so well at controlling it, she’s surprised it’s so much on display right now.

“You don’t have to talk but maybe you could help me go through this data,” she says looking in his eyes. He looks sad. He moves around the table taking a seat in the stool next to her. She projects a calming scent over him, she’s not sure it will help but it’s all she can do for him right now.

“What are we looking for?” he asks. She smiles a little.

“The second row, you’re looking for data that matches this,” she explains, pushing another paper to him.

“These are chromosomes?” he asks. She nods. They sit there in silence for a few minutes as Piper looks through paper.

“I don’t hate her,” he says eventually. Piper looks over at him, still projecting her scent.

“I know,” she replies.

“I can’t ignore her, I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s such a deep feeling inside, I’ve never felt this before, I can’t ignore it no matter how hard I try.” She can hear his voice catch in his throat.

“It will get easier when John claims her,” she says. She's not sure how true it is, but it’s what he needs to hear right now. He sighs, circling something on the paper.

“I’m working as hard as I can, looking for a cure is new to me, it’s going to take time to organize everything,” she admits.

“I know. What did Price say?” he asks. She hands him another paper.

“I told him there could be a sample of the original formula in Professor Hale’s personal home lab. It’s not great but it will save us months of work,” she says. Simon nods.

“Who do these belong to?” he asks, holding the paper up.

“Who do you think?” she asks.

“I think she hates me,” Simon says, looking down at the paper.

“She’s spent all her life thinking people hate her. It won’t take much for her to change her mind,” Piper says. Simon looks at her, his eyes lingering on her as she arranges papers.

He likes it here in the lab. It’s quiet, dark, nothing but the scent of beta filling the air. He managed to shake Johnny on the outskirts of the base. He doesn’t need a babysitter, he’s not going to do anything.

“I was in the UK once,” Dr. Montgomery says, glancing at him with a smile on her lips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah I did a year of work in London, never been to Manchester. Is it nice?” She looks at him again, she’s got green eyes, they remind Simon of the evergreen trees surrounding the base. He can smell her scent in the air calming him. He doesn’t care if she’s doing it just for him, he needs it right now. Anything but the overpowering scent of omega plaguing his mind.

“Here, these are tests from today,” she explains, pushing more paper in his face. “We’re looking for anything above 10.” He has no idea what most of this means but he trusts her even if he wishes she could work faster. He sighs looking at the graphs on the paper. She’s here working instead of sleeping, there’s not much more he can ask of her.

“You know no one blames you for being mad.” He looks at her, she doesn’t look from her work.

“She does, I know she does. I saw it in her eyes today, fear.” He remembers yourface when he exited the office, your shaky apology, an apology you didn’t need to make.

“Want to talk about it?” she asks. No. He wants to sit here in silence with the calming scent of beta filling his head.

“Think she’ll ever forgive me?” He sees her head turn to look at him.

“Yes, but you have to seek it out,” she says. He nods. Maybe he should give you more of a chance. It’s not your fault after all. He looks back over at Dr. Montgomery, if anything it will make her happy. If he wants to keep hanging out in the lab after hours it seems like a good thing to keep on her good side.

He looks back down at the paperwork, the least he can do to hurry the situation is help her with the paperwork, if anything it will mean she gets a good night’s rest which is good for all parties.

What's the worst that could happen?

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

Special thank you yet again to rememberwren <3

456 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 3 months ago

Text

Stupid Cupid {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: FWB, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, hurt feelings, insults, canon-typical violence, mentions of prostitution, jealousy, embarrassment, Javi groveling, angry words, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), lingerie.

Comments: Valentine's Day turns into a disaster for Javi when he asks a dumb question like why would he take you out for the lover's holiday.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding tight just like you’ve discovered he enjoys. The kiss passed between you including little nips of teeth, especially by him that makes you moan every time. The room is hot, sticky from the way your bodies move together. Javi’s grunts are music to your ears as he thrusts into you, holding firm to your waist as if he’s scared you’re going anywhere. “Fuck, Javi.” You pant, tilting your head back as he kisses down your throat. You both need this, need the stress relief from the hectic and sometimes overwhelming job of hunting down Pablo Escobar.

He grinds deep into your cunt like it's his haven from the shit show constantly happening outside the four walls of your apartment. It's his sanctuary and he worships you as you let him take what he wants. He leaves indentations on your skin in places that can be concealed by your clothes but he nips whatever inch of skin he has access to. You moan when he adjusts the angle, hitting something that solidifies his identity to your neighbors - as if they don't hear the same cry nearly every night - and you tilt your head back, eyes squeezed shut. "There. Fuck. Right there baby." You plead breathlessly, needing him to keep that angle.

Javi grunts, teeth grinding as he concentrates on keeping that angle. He’s so fucking close to cumming but he wants you to cum with him. You two are so in sync, so tuned to each other. He knows your body as well as he knows his own. Your hand slides from his hair and to his shoulder, wrapping around the firm muscles on the broad length of them. “So close, baby, I’m gonna-“ your breath catches right before you cry out. Body stiffening underneath his and the walls of your cunt clamp down around him, soaking him in your pleasure.

He grunts at the way you squeeze him, his mind going blank to the pleasure of being inside you. Javier pants, his grip tightening as he rocks you on his cock while he clenches his jaw. "Hermosa. Fuck. Feel so goddamn good." He groans, thrusting a few more times until he can't take it anymore. He pushes deep, a low groan of your name echoing in the room while his cock pulses, painting your walls with his hot cum. You sigh, caressing his back as he leans forward to rest his sweaty forehead on your chest.

“Perfect.” You giggle slightly, basking in the luxurious bliss after an orgasm. Soon you will get up and clean up and light a cigarette, but right now, all you can hear is your mingled panting breaths and the way your heart beats wildly in your chest.

He playfully shifts to bite your chin and you caress his cheek. He looks up at you and leans in to softly kiss you. After a moment, he pulls out of you and shifts to lay down, pulling you into his chest. He kisses your forehead and you curl around him, making him itch for a smoke since he’s so relaxed.

“Three times.” You huff, sliding your hand up his chest and down over the slightly soft pooch of his belly. He grumbles about needing to lay off the whiskey sometimes but you think that he is just perfect. “I don’t know how you are going to top that tomorrow.”

Javier snorts, closing his eyes to just enjoy the relaxation seeping into his bones, “I think I’ll manage. Know exactly what to press to make you fall apart for me.” He smirks, squeezing your ass as you curl around him. His other arm behind his head, and he opens his eyes to look down at you. “I think I’ll manage it.”

You smirk slightly, kissing his chest and humming. “After dinner?” You arch a brow. “I think I deserve more than whiskey for dinner for Valentine’s Day.” You’ve been sleeping together for nearly eight months, and it’s clear that you’ve fallen for your often curt partner, but he has moments where you swear that he adores you. You just want to do something like a normal couple for once, since you can’t openly date.

Javier can’t help it. He freezes under your touch, and he feels like he just swallowed a golf ball. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. He completely forgot about it. He hasn’t gotten a woman flowers or celebrated the holiday since Lorraine practically held a gun to his head and demanded he get her flowers. “Why would I take you to dinner?” He asks, confused and panicking a little that this isn’t just sex for you like he thought it was.

You had been expecting some smartass comment, a joke about buying you a sandwich or something. Not panic and….what sounded like disgust. You stiffen and pull away, finding abject horror in his eyes when you look at him. “Obviously you wouldn’t.” You huff, twisting around to climb out of the bed so you can flee into the bathroom.

He frowns, watching you march into the bathroom, and he takes that as his cue. He reaches for his pants from the floor, pulling the denim up his legs and he zips them up before he searches for his shirt. His heart pounds and he doesn’t know what to say when you come out of the bathroom minutes later to find him putting on his shoes.

You tighten the belt of your robe, not wanting to feel completely exposed. Instead of him waiting to explain for being an asshole, he’s getting ready to leave. You had wondered if you were being too pushy or maybe overreacting to everything until you saw him dressed. Your heart twists and feels like it’s breaking, but you just walk over to your dresser and pick up your pack of cigarettes. Pulling one out and lighting up, taking a long drag before you exhale. “You know where the door is.”

He stares at you, unsure of what he wants. Maybe he wanted you to scream at him, tell him he’s an asshole for not taking you to dinner after he’s fucked you nearly every night for months. He nods, reaching into his back pocket for his cigarettes and he places one in his mouth, patting his shirt for his lighter but he daren’t ask you for a light when you’re looking at him like you want to set him on fire. He leaves without another work, making his way back to his apartment to wonder what the fuck went wrong tonight.

“Fucking asshole.” You ignore the tears that are sliding down your cheeks as you smoke your cigarette, closing your eyes when you hear the door close with a soft click. Tomorrow is going to be miserable.

****

The next day, Javier arrives at the embassy and all he sees are fucking roses and chocolates and cards. Is he the only one who forgot Valentine’s Day? He grunts as he walks down the hall until he enters his office to find Steve fumbling through giving delivery instructions to a driver for a florist. He rolls his eyes and takes the phone, helping to give the man directions to their building and that’s when you walk in. His heart thumps in his chest and you don’t even look at him as you pull your office chair out.

“Morning Steve.” You offer when Murphy leans back in his chair and shoots you a good morning. “You look cheerful.” You tease. “Big plans with the wife?” The blonde man grins even wider and winks. “Hell yeah, I’m going to romance her tonight and make sure that I get laid.” It’s sweet how much the couple loves each other, even with all the shit you are dealing with. “What about Olivia?” You ask, knowing that dealing with the little girl they’ve adopted has been a big change for the young family. “I’ve got a neighbor we trust to watch her.”

“That’s good.” You smile as Steve looks proud of himself. Things have been rocky lately, but he’s hoping tonight will put them back on steady ground. “What about you?” He asks, glancing over at Javier but his question is towards you. He’s not stupid, he knows you two are sleeping together. Javi comes in smelling like your perfume way too often to not know. You are looking down at your paperwork, so you don’t see the look and you hum. “I’ve got a date with Thomas Moore tonight.” You announce. “First date.”

Javier nearly drops the cigarette he’s smoking on his shirt, his eyebrows immediately raised. “From the CIA?” Steve asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. Surely Javier would be taking you for dinner after he’s fucked you for God knows how long. “Yep.” You pop the ‘p’ and Javier huffs as he snubs out his smoke. “Really? When did he ask you out?” Javier asks through slightly clenched teeth.

You shrug slightly. “He’s been asking me out for two months.” You admit. “But he called with some information that he thought I might be able to use last night, and asked again.” You know Javi cares more about the intel you might have gotten than anything else, so you shuffle through your reports. “I said yes.”

Javier taps his fingers on the table, curious why you’d never mentioned that Moore was asking you out. “What’s the intel?” He grunts, trying to show he’s not bothered even when his stomach is twisting in annoyance and jealousy.

You hum as you look through the papers, knowing that Javi is impatient for the information so you don’t rush. Wanting to make sure that it’s a solid lead. When you find the CentraSpy report you grin as you wave it towards Steve, ignoring Javi. “Blackie is making a drop off today. One of the safe houses we stopped surveilling.” You tell him, pushing out of your chair and grabbing your jacket. “Let’s hope he’s on time because I’m leaving early today.”

Steve nods, excitement on his face to finally get a lead after chasing tail for so goddamn long. Javier is more apprehensive. “You’re telling us you basically sold yourself for some intel.” Javier scoffs, crossing his arms after scratching his jaw. He didn’t have time to shave this morning since he barely slept, thinking about you. He doesn’t get up right away, watching Steve shrug on his jacket and he sighs, grabbing his pack of cigarettes as he stands.

You frown at his accusation, but you turn away and start walking out of the office so he doesn’t see you. There’s a sharp retort on your tongue about his own methods, but you won’t let him know that you are bothered by his comment. Thomas Moore is coming down the hall, smiling happily as you come towards him. “Hey, are we still on for tonight?” He asks and you nod. “Seven okay?” You ask, stopping and smiling flirtatiously. “I want to make sure I’ve got time to get ready.”

Javi clenches his jaw, unable to help himself, and Steve smirks, aware of the situation. Thomas nods, winking at you, “I’ll see you then.” You grin and continue walking down the hall. Javier glares at Thomas who frowns, confused about the DEA agent’s annoyance at him. “You seriously want to go out with that prick?” Javier scoffs, “can’t even tell you a damn time.”

“Don’t worry about what I do, Peña.” You huff as the three of you walk out of the building towards your Jeep. Javi normally wants to drive, but you’ll be damned if you let him be in charge today. “It’s none of your business who I date or who I take home with me.” You open the door and ignore his frown of annoyance at not taking his vehicle. “He wants to take me out for Valentine’s Day. Big deal.”

Javier rolls his eyes, “yeah. And get laid.” He scoffs and Steve snorts under his breath at this show you’re both putting on. You unlock your Jeep and Javier - who usually always sits in the front - sulks in the back seat as you drive to the lookout point. Your situation ship began on a lookout. Steve was sick so it was just the two of you. You listened to music, smoked, and then you began to talk…which turned into making out…which turned into you riding him in the backseat of his Jeep. Since that night, you had an unspoken agreement that this was colleagues with benefits. At least that’s what Javi thought.

You don’t look in the rear view mirror as you drive, getting a prime parking spot about a hundred yards away from the safe house front door. You park and turn off the engine, settling back into your seat and checking your watch. “Maybe we will finally get lucky.” You murmur to Steve. “And don’t forget I’ve got some crackers in the glovebox.” You tell him, knowing how much he enjoys snacking during stakeout.

Steve nods, “fuck yes.” He leans his elbow on the window and watches Javier in the wing mirror who has a pout on his face at the turn of events. Clearly the man thought you’d pine forever but you’ve decided to take action and Steve can’t disagree with it. Peña can’t drag you along without putting a label on what you’ve been doing. “The intel was bullshit.” Javier scoffs after a few minutes of waiting. “Clearly that jackass just wanted an excuse to get in your pants tonight so he made some shit up.”

You snort and shake your head, reaching for your cigarettes. It’s apparently going to be a day of thinly veiled insults and attitude. “Doubtful.” You say with the cigarette between your lips and you cup your free hand around the lighter since the window is down. “Better chance of getting in my pants if the lead is good.”

Javier rolls his eyes, “didn’t know it was that easy.” He quips, knowing he’s being an asshole but he is hurt that you’ve already moved on so quickly because he didn’t plan a fucking Valentine’s Day dinner. Like this entire situation isn’t life or death. In Laredo, he could relax and take you for a steak dinner, buy you roses, and make you feel special, but this isn’t home. Any moment, Escobar could find you and hurt you. He can’t take the risk.

Your jaw tightens and your eyes flicker to the rear view mirror, finding him looking at you in challenge. His eyes dark and for a split second you swear you see hurt flash through their depths. “Yeah, well, you should see some of the losers I’ve fucked.” You shoot back coolly, taking another puff of your cigarette. “Thoughtless assholes.”

Javier scoffs, shaking his head, and he knows that he won’t win this argument. He’s trying to keep you safe and if you can’t see that, then you aren’t aware of the dangers Escobar poses. He rubs his forehead, checking his watch, and he swears Steve is trying to piss him off as he crunches on stupid fucking crackers.

You don’t say anything else, just keep watch on the slightly rundown house that has newspapers covering the windows. Ever so often, you glance in the mirror at Javi, starting to feel guilty and hurt, and feeling guilty about being hurt. You haven’t had a conversation about what was happening between the two of you, pretending that it would somehow magically define itself. Javier isn’t one to date, that’s obvious and it’s better that you just get over him now before you do something stupid like confess how you feel.

Time seems to drag and Javier taps his fingers on the window sill, watching and waiting for Blackie to appear. Just when he thought Moore really is full of shit, the sicario appears and Javier sits up straight. “Well I’ll be damned.” Steve comments with a mouth full of crackers.

“Damn right.” You sit up and reach for the camera. Wanting to take photos before you move in for the arrest. Knowing that the documentation will be invaluable. “Finish your crackers, Murphy.” You tell him as you look through the lenses and click photo after photo.

Steve crunches enough to make Javier clench his jaw in annoyance and the blonde man knows that. He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee before you set the camera down. “Let’s get this over with.” Javier demands, opening the back door to get out and he pulls out his sunglasses to put them on.

“Well, I guess we are arresting him now.” You huff, setting the camera down and scrambling after Javier out of the truck. Steve is getting out on the other side and you reach behind you to pull your gun out of the holster at the base of your spine. The three of you spread out, knowing that Blackie will either run or start shooting. It’s only a question of which one he chooses.

Javier rolls his eyes at your tone and he pulls his gun from his back, keeping it low as he strides forward to follow Blackie down the alley. The sicario doesn’t see the three of you for several moments until he spins, gun in hand, and he fires it. The bullet whizzes past Javier and he clenches his jaw, taking off after the sicario while shouting at Steve to cut him off on the other side.

“Fuck!” While you know it’s not Javi’s fault, you can’t help but be annoyed at his impatience. It would have been easier to box him in when he was in the house. You take off another route, knowing that the alleyways connect the neighborhood and you don’t want him to slip away.

Javier pants as he chases after Blackie and it happens so fast. His heart beats then stops as Blackie runs down an alley and you are standing there with your gun aimed at the sicario. You fire your weapon, hitting the sicario in the shoulder and he wastes no time firing his gun back at you. By some miracle, the bullet imbeds itself in the wall beside you, and Javier rushes forward, firing his gun but the sicario runs fast, shoving you to the ground, and he turns the corner. Javier doesn't even think as he kneels down to pull you into his arms. "Fuck! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He rushes out, desperate to hear that you are okay.

You are breathless, both from the near miss that you had and the way you had fallen when Blackie had pushed you down. It takes you a second to be able to talk and you feel Javi’s hand running all over your body, desperately checking for injuries. For a moment, you melt, feeling his worry but then you remember how he had been so cold last night and this morning. You shove him away and push to your knees. “I’m fine.” You hiss, slapping his hand when he reaches for you again. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He recoils from you and the way you tell him not to touch you. His stomach twists and he shuffles back, holding his hands up. “Fine. Get the fuck up.” He demands now that he knows you’re not hurt. Steve runs towards you, chest heaving, and he shakes his head. “He got away.” Javier hisses, pissed off at the missed opportunity. He smacks his hand on the wall as you stand up and Steve frowns in worry, his blue eyes flicking between you. “Fuck.” He growls, “we lost him.”

You groan and bend down to pick up your gun, dropped when you had been knocked down. “I hit the fucker though.” You report grimly, tucking your gun back into its holster and sighing as you look around to get your bearings. “He’s not going to go back to the safe house.” It pisses you off that once again the sicarios that you’ve been chasing have slipped away. You know you should apologize for being so hateful to Javi, but you don’t. He wouldn’t. Turning around, you start walking back towards your Jeep.

Javier inhales shakily, his heart pounding in his chest, and he takes a second until he follows you. Steve watches him, slapping him on the back, “we will get the fucker.” He promises and Javi nods, trying to think about what went wrong. He could’ve shot the fucker but the thought of missing and shooting you…he couldn’t do it. He approaches your Jeep and Steve is in the driver’s seat. He gets in the back seat, shutting the door. “Can you drop me off at the girls?” Javier asks, knowing that Steve will know what he means.

You hate how your entire body tenses up and your heart aches when he asks that. You snort in disbelief, mostly at yourself and sink down into your passenger seat. Not looking in the mirrors at Javi and counting down the seconds before you can get away from him. Apparently sooner than you had expected.

Everyone is silent as Steve drives through the streets. You had all hoped this would amount to success. Finally some movement but that didn’t happen. Blackie got away. When Steve pulls up outside the unsuspecting home, Javier opens the door and gets out. “Thanks.” He grunts, looking back at you sitting in the front of the car, and when you turn your head, his heart aches. With a nod, he turns on his heel and makes his way into the brothel.

You bite your lip, facing forward and refusing to watch as he knocks on the brothel door and is let inside. Steve sighs but you cross your arms and try to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. “More time for me to get ready for my date.” You manage to say, but it sounds hollow.

****

Thomas guides you into the restaurant, his hand on your lower back, and he’s already told you three times that you look beautiful. It’s sweet but it doesn’t make you shiver like when Javier has murmured it when he’s inside you. Thomas pulls the chair out for you, letting you sit down, and he rushes around the table to take his seat. “I heard that this is the best restaurant in Bogotá.” Thomas says, clearly nervous, and you offer him a smile, “it’s great.” He beams but his smile falters when his eyes widen. You frown, turning your head to see what’s caught his eye and your jaw drops slightly. It’s Javier and he’s brought a date. Javier has his hand on Gabby’s lower back, guiding her over to the table next to you, and he can’t help but smirk at his luck.

Goddamnit. Your heart lurches and your stomach twists. Gabby is lovely, beautiful and kind, but it’s a punch to the gut that he would be insulted at the idea of taking you out to dinner but would bring the woman he pays to have sex with. Forcing yourself to nod to Gabby politely, you don’t acknowledge Javier. You swallow harshly and your eyes snap back towards Thomas. “I need a drink.” You pant, hating how you are hurt and jealous all at the same time.

Thomas nods, unsure of why you look nauseous, and he gestures for the waiter to come over just as Javier sits down on the table next to him, facing you. The waiter comes over and Thomas grins, proudly ordering a bottle of champagne. Javier snorts at the display, and he knows you’d want a gin and tonic.

You don’t correct him, instead you smile at the gesture and keep your eyes glued to Thomas, almost afraid to look over at Javi. He had apparently found time between rounds with Gabby to change and he looks good. Your cunt clenches and you hate how your body betrays you, knowing that he’s going to go back to the brothel tonight and not be in your bed. “Your tip was good.” You tell Thomas, smiling at him. “I’m going to need you to keep feeding me those tips.” You tease.

The CIA agent smirks, “of course. We got more where that came from. I have plenty of intel…as long as you keep giving me those pretty smiles.” He winks and you giggle. Javier rolls his eyes and Gabby nudges him with her foot, leaning over to take his hand in hers. The waiter brings the bottle of champagne over, popping it, and you soon have a bubbly glass in front of you. “To new partners.” Thomas toasts and lifts his glass.

“To new partners.” You echo, taking a sip of the champagne and hating how sweet it is. Still, you drink half the glass before you set it down, needing the alcohol. “Thank you.” You murmur, watching Javi out of the corner of your eye. You see his and Gabby’s hands intertwined so you reach out and take Thomas’s hand. “This is a very lovely place and the company is even better.” You coo.

The waiter comes over to Javier and Gabby. Your partner orders a whiskey and Gabby gets a vodka soda, squeezing Javier’s hand after she winks at him, knowing that he sees you holding Thomas’s hand. “Thanks for helping me relax earlier.” Javier tells Gabby, picking her hand up to press a kiss to the back of it.

You squeeze the CIA agent’s hand and he frowns slightly. “Everything alright?” He asks, concern lacing his tone. You swallow and smile, ignoring the way your stomach twists since you know exactly how Javier likes to relax. “Just a little sore from earlier.” You admit. “Might need you to help me loosen up.” You give him a suggestive smile.

Javier clenches his jaw and Gabby notices, biting her lip. The waiter sets their drinks down, and Javier immediately picks up his whiskey to take a gulp. Thomas doesn’t notice and smirks, “let’s see how good dinner is and maybe we can get dessert.” He teases and Javier snorts at the lame response. If it was him, he’d be charming you, telling you how he would help you loosen up.

You giggle and slap at Thomas’s hand playfully. “Such a gentleman.” You coo, trying to play it up. “Dessert will be the best part of the night, I promise.” You had made sure your dress was sexy and your make-up alluring. You lean forward slightly to give him a better look at your tits. Opening your menu so you can look at the choices and let him gawk.

His eyes drop down and he swallows harshly. Javier also drops his gaze to your tits and he narrows his eyes. You look fucking gorgeous and he knows it could’ve been him sitting opposite you if he only had the balls to do what he should’ve done. Now he’s sitting opposite Gabby who agreed to help him in his ridiculous plan. “What do you want to eat, Javi?” Gabby asks him, “or should we just skip straight to dessert?” She asks, smirking as she leans closer to him. Her tits pushed together and Thomas’s gaze drifts over to her chest.

“Oooooh, should we have some oysters?” You ask, looking up as Thomas immediately looks back at you, his cheeks flushed at being caught looking at another woman. You don’t say anything, just slide your foot out of your shoe and reach out under the table to rub it against his ankle. Wanting his attention on you. “You know what they say about oysters.” You giggle.

Javier wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t. He knows when you are genuinely attracted to someone, and he knows you’re forcing the flirting. “Uh, oysters. Yeah.” Thomas nods lamely, making Javier chuckle under his breath at the boring response.

You hear the laugh and your eyes snap over to Javier. Your jaw tight as you glare at him, “what was that, Peña?” You hiss, annoyed that he’s here. He’s distracting you and clouding your thoughts when you should be trying to get over his stupid mustache and the way his cologne smells.

Javier shrugs, “nothing. Just think you shouldn’t be on a date if you need an aphrodisiac to get the blood flowing.” He quips, smirking at Gabby, “oysters ain’t doing anything for me to get it up.”

“You prick.” You hiss, twisting in your chair to glare at Javi. The smug asshole just flicks his eyes over to you in amusement, happy he’s riled you up. “Why the fuck are you even here?” You demand. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Why would you take anyone to dinner on Valentine’s Day?” Your words are dripping with sarcasm as you completely forget about your own date.

Thomas frowns, confused by your annoyance. He thought that you and Javier were just partners…work colleagues. “Gabby is important to me.” Javier counters, “I’ve known her a long time. As for being here…well, I heard this was the best restaurant in Bogotá.”

His jab hits its intended mark and you inhale sharply. “Asshole.” Gabby was important to him, special enough to want to spend time outside of a bedroom. But you were just a convenient fuck. You know that he has to be paying her to take her to dinner and it hurts worse than you expected to learn that he would rather pay for companionship than to do more than fuck you. You turn back towards Thomas, a little desperate. “Do you want to get out of here?” You ask.

Thomas sees how upset you are and he isn’t stupid. He connects the dots. You’re fucking Javier and this date is to make him jealous. He shakes his head, standing up and he pulls his wallet from his pants. “That’s for the champagne. I don’t know what’s going on now but I’m not going to be in the middle of whatever the fuck this is.” He scoffs and tosses some cash down. He looks at Javier, “I don’t know what she sees in you.” He says and strides from the table, shaking his head. Javier scoffs, unable to believe he left like that but he’s also secretly pleased.

You sit there for a moment, staring at the money he had thrown down. Embarrassed and ashamed of how this night has turned out. Your cheeks feel like they are on fire and worse you can feel the tears starting to build in your eyes. “Shit.” You leap up and rush towards the bathroom, unwilling to let Javi see you cry.

Javier watches you rush off and his eyes flick back to Gabby. “Go after her.” She urges and he nods, shifting to stand up. He follows you to the bathroom, knocking on the door. “Hermosa.” He calls after clearly his throat. He says your name, wanting you to know he’s serious about talking to you.

“Go away, Javi.” You beg, closing your eyes as you try to stop yourself from crying. Of course he doesn’t listen to you and you hear the door open. You press your eyes together harder as you bend over at the sink. “Please just go away.”

He sees you bent over the sink and his heart clenches. “Not until you tell me why you accepted going on a date with that CIA prick. He’s never going to be what you need. Why’d you put yourself through that when you know he could never make you feel like I do. That limp prick couldn’t make you cum like I do.”

That pisses you off and pushes the tears away for a second. You whirl around and glare at him. “The great Javier Peña.” You hiss, poking him in the chest with your finger. “God’s gift to women’s orgasms.” You snort and step away from him. “Sometimes a woman wants more than just a fucking orgasm.” You inform him. “Unless she’s getting paid to fake them.” You smirk coldly. “Enjoy your night with Gabby.” You turn around and walk out of the women’s bathroom, ready to go the fuck home and pretend tonight didn’t happen.

Javier huffs, rubbing his chest, and he knows he’s fucked up. He lets you go, knowing you’ll be okay to get home, and he makes his way outside to Gabby. He follows Thomas’s lead and he tosses some cash down onto the table. “I’m taking you home.” He says and she nods, grabbing her purse. When Javier is driving her back to her place, she turns to look at him. “I wondered why you haven’t been fucking me for a while. Only coming to pay me for intel. It was her. She clearly loves you. Why the hell didn’t you take her to dinner tonight?” Gabby asks and Javier adjusts his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s complicated. I- I’m too fucking complicated for her.” He admits his deepest thoughts.

Gabby snorts and shakes her head. “Men.” She scoffs. “You don’t think she’s complicated? She’s a female DEA agent in Colombia. Tracking down the same dangerous men that you say make you too complicated.” He sighs and she doesn’t cut him any slack. “What do you think they would do to her if they caught her? You don’t think she knows that? She lives with that everyday and the man she loves would rather push her away than risk it?” She reaches over and touches his hand. “Don’t do that to her. Don’t do that to both of you.”

Javier clenches his jaw, imagining too many times what could happen to you if one of Escobar’s men got hold of you. He shudders slightly and Gabby notices but doesn’t say anything. “I’ve fucked up. She hates me now. I took you to dinner after telling her what we had was just sex. She’ll never forgive me.” He murmurs and Gabby scoffs, “she loves you. Get some damn roses and get your ass over to her place to apologize. Grovel.” She adds, “all women like a man who begs.” She smirks and Javier nods, knowing it’s going to be impossible to find roses this time of night but he’s going to try. He drops Gabby off at her place, thanking her, and she refuses the money until he shoves it in her hand. She kisses his cheek and soon he’s speeding to find a florist. There’s one still open and when he strides in, he asks for roses at the same time another man asks for them. “I was here first.” The man argues and Javier tilts his head, reaching for his wallet, “I’ll pay more.” The shop owner glances between the men. “What if you both take six?” She suggests and Javier knows it’s not the grand gesture he was after but it will have to do. He nods and pays, rushing back to his Jeep and soon, he’s standing on your doorstep. His heart pounds as he waits for you to answer the door.

You’ve kicked off your shoes and are spoon deep in a pint of rocky road, trying to bury yourself in ice cream to make yourself feel better. Wallowing in misery, you know tomorrow will be horrible. Thomas is hurt by your selfishness. Using him to get over Javi and he didn’t deserve that. He was a good guy, for being CIA. You fucked up and what’s worse is that you know Javi will be enjoying his night with Gabby, not even giving you a second thought. Dipping the spoon into the carton, you sniffle slightly and then freeze when you hear a knock on your door. You sigh, wondering who the fuck it is and contemplate ignoring it before you get up. Setting the ice cream down, you reach for your gun as you peek through the hole and see Javi.

When you open the door, Javier winces, knowing that you are pissed at him...rightly so...and he holds the flowers up for you to see. "Please don't shut the door." He pleads and you huff, pulling the door back after you try to slam it on him. Your eyes drift down to the roses and you scoff, "couldn't get a dozen?" You ask, wanting to act like a bitch, and Javier chuckles dryly, "yeah. Could only find one florist open and the flowers were split between me and another stupid bastard."

“Stupid is right.” You snort, hating that you are already softening and opening the door wider so he can come in. “What are you doing here, Peña?” You demand. “Shouldn’t you be showing Gabby how you don’t need oysters to get it up?”

He walks into your apartment before you can tell him to get the fuck out and he sighs, “I was trying to make you jealous. I…I was jealous that you were out with Moore. I was jealous as fuck and I figured - it was fucking stupid. I wanted to make you jealous and I realized this entire situation is my fault because I should’ve asked you to dinner before all of this happened but I was a coward. I’m terrified to - to make this real because if something happens to you, I won’t forgive myself and I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. I think I’d kill every sicario in Colombia with my bare hands if anything happened to you and that scares the shit out of me. To know that you are the person I love the most…to lose you. It would kill me. I thought if I acted like you didn’t mean anything to me that you’d get sick of my shit and move on and when that happened - I couldn’t handle it.” He rambles more than you’ve ever heard since you met him and he inhales deeply when he’s done.

You inhale sharply, eyes wide at his confession. “You love me?” You whisper and he nods, shifting nervously as he still holds the six roses in his hand like a lifeline. Reaching out, you slap at his chest. “You love me?” You hiss, although it’s more out of frustration than anger. “You love me and you let me think that I meant nothing to you? Just an easy fuck you didn’t have to pay for and you love me?”

Javier shakes his head, "I was trying to protect you. Jesus Christ, I thought - I thought I was protecting you from my bullshit. I didn't want to hurt you but I did anyway and I - I am sorry." He promises, "hermosa...I want you. I love you, but if you want me to go. I'll go."

“I don’t want you to go.” You slap his chest again and your hand rests there as you look into your eyes. “But I don’t want to be your second choice.” You admit softly. “You’ve already been with Gabby today. I don’t-“ you break off, unsure how to explain you didn’t want to have sloppy seconds.

"I didn't fuck her. I haven't...not since before we started having sex." He promises, "I wouldn't do that to you. Especially since we haven't used a condom. I am many things but I am not that big of an asshole." He shrugs one shoulder, shuffling the roses in his hand.

“You didn’t?” You frown in confusion. “You said that she had helped you relax.” You remind him. “Only fucking time I’ve ever seen you relaxed is right after you’ve cum.”

Javier can't help but blush a little, ducking his chin, "I didn't - she just let me talk about anything and everything. She didn't even hug me. I vented and asked if she would go to dinner with me." He confesses, "I wanted to make you jealous." He sighs, "and I was being a prick."

You wilt at his embarrassed confession. He had just tried to make you jealous. “It worked.” You admit. “I was furious, and jealous. I wanted to claw Gabby’s eyes out, and I like Gabby.” You’ve talked to the prostitute many times, double checking on intel Javi’s received or just checking on her woman to woman. You know she’s in a rough line of work.

Javier’s heart jerks at the news that you were jealous of Gabby. “She’s one of the best.” He agrees, “and she told me it was a stupid idea. It was stupid. I love you, baby. I should’ve told you that long ago and I should’ve taken you to dinner tonight. Can you give me another chance? Dinner tomorrow?”

You bite your lip, watching his eyes. They are dark and worried that you might say no. “I had honestly expected you to say something like you would buy me a hot dog.” You admit with a small laugh. It’s something of an inside joke because every time you worked late at Steve’s apartment, Connie would make you hot dogs. It was an innocent joke and some levity that you all sorely needed. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head, "you're worth more than a hot dog." He promises, "you are everything. I want to show you that." He steps closer, unsure if you want him to touch you or if you need some space.

“Then show me.” You challenge him, biting back a smirk. You reach out and take his hand. “I love you, Javier.” You murmur softly.

Javier sets the flowers down on your table and pulls you into him. He smiles as he leans in to softly kiss you. "I love you, hermosa." He promises, pressing his lips to yours again to deepen the kiss.

You wind your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you as you let him take control. Moaning softly when he licks into your mouth, the previous anger and upset forgotten as his mouth fuses to yours.

Javier groans as his tongue slides against yours. His hands are greedy as they squeeze your ass and he missed you. As ridiculous as it sounds, he’s missed you during the time you were fighting. He guides you backwards through your apartment to your bedroom and his hands immediately find the zipper of your dress, pulling it down. You let it drop to the floor without hesitation and Javier pulls back to look at you. “Lingerie? Was this for that prick?”

“It was for myself.” You shrug, knowing that it’s not necessary to worry about it now. “But if I felt like I could have gone through with it….” You honestly don’t know if you would have been able to sleep with Thomas, but now you are able to stand in front of the man you had envisioned when putting it on.

Javier growls, jealousy making his heart clench, "well, he ain't gonna see this. Only I get to see you looking this fucking sexy." He commands, grabbing your ass to lift you onto the bed.

Your squeal of surprise turns into a giggle as he drops you on the bed. “Is that right?” You prop up on your elbows and smirk at him. “You think I look sexy like this, baby?”

He chuckles, nodding at you, and he fingers the lace of your bra. "Goddamn mouthwatering." He promises, "not that you aren't always the sexiest woman in the damn city but you look like a fucking dessert right now." He murmurs, bending down to take your nipple into his mouth through the lace.

You whimper at the wet heat of his mouth on you. Moaning softly when he runs his tongue over the entire area to wet it more. “Javi- fuck.” You run your fingers through his hair and sigh blissfully when he climbs on top of you and you feel the weight of him on top of you again. “Want you naked.”

He chuckles against your breast, sucking on your nipple, and you whine. Your protest makes him lean back on his haunches and he unbuttons his shirt, exposing his chest for your hungry eyes. He shrugs it off and shuffles off the bed so he can kick off his shoes and unbutton his pants. His half hard cock exposed when he shoves them down and kicks them aside.

“I love that you never wear underwear.” You eye his cock greedily. He’s impressive even when he’s not fully hard, just overall beautiful in your opinion. And now you know that he is all yours.

Javier kneels on the bed again, leaning down to kiss your stomach, and his hands caress your thighs. He wants to taste you. Be wants to hear you cry his name. He kisses down to your mound, nuzzling his nose against the lace covering it, and he shifts lower, pushing your thighs apart so he can press a soft kiss to your clit through the material.

“Javi.” It’s not like you haven’t had oral. Javi hasn’t been selfish when you’ve been together. It’s more than fucking has taken priority over oral. He’s the type of man who would rather be inside your pussy than in your mouth. “You don’t have to.”

He smirks as he looks up at you while he hooks his fingers into the crotch so he can pull them aside. “I know.” He promises before he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. The tip of his tongue flicks over your clit and he loves the way you cry out and your fingers tangle in his hair.

Shivers race through your body as he dives into you. Javier never does things by half and he feels like he is trying to devour you, pussy first. His tongue alternates between running along your folds and flicking over your clit with teasing, playful motions. It makes you moan as you grind your hips down on his face.

He loves the way you grind onto his face and he moans when you tug on his hair to push his face deeper into your pussy. He sucks your clit into his mouth, loving the way you squeal, and his cock aches as he grinds slowly into the mattress.

He’s obviously trying to kill you. You pant softly as he works his tongue deeper inside you after finally letting your clit go. “Fuck, Javi.” You moan. “So good baby, you make me feel so good.”

Your moan goes straight to his cock and he hisses into your pussy, making your hips jerk. His hands squeeze your thighs, pushing them further apart, and he loves the way you moan his name. He wants to push you over the edge.

All you can hear is Javi lapping at your cunt and your answering moans. Everything outside is muted, forgotten. Even Pablo Escobar and your hunt for him is pushed aside for the way every flick of his tongue makes you want to weep in bliss. “So close, baby, I’m gonna cum.” You babble through the sounds of praise, rocking desperately against his tongue. “Gonna cum!”

You cry out moments later, your thighs squeezing his head, and he groans as he eagerly laps up your slick. His cock now throbbing into the sheets and he works you through until you’re pushing his head away. He kisses your mound, hooking his fingers in the lace panties to drag them down your legs.

“I need you to fuck me.” You are reaching for him, lunging up and pressing your lips to his. Not caring that he tastes like you, that his lips are still wet with your juices. Your hand wraps around his cock and you groan into his mouth when you feel the precum that has beaded up. “I need you right now baby. More than I need air.”

He feels like he’s gonna explode if he doesn’t fuck you. He groans when you squeeze his cock and shuffles closer. “Fuck, hermosa. I’m here. I’m here.” He promises, letting you guide his cock to your entrance and he slowly starts to push into you. “Goddamn.” He hisses, shifting to his forearms and he ducks his head down to kiss you.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Your nails are shorter than you’d want, but they still dig into the meat of his shoulders as he presses into you. Filling you up with a steady determination that has you letting out a curse. “Fuuuuuuuck.” You whine. “No one ever filled me up like you do. So fucking thick.” You praise breathlessly. “Feels like you’re in my fucking guts when you are pounding away.”

Javier twitches inside you at your breathless praise and he loves it. "Baby. Shit. Baby." He pants, starting to move and he kisses along your neck, "so goddamn tight and - and so fucking perfect." He grunts, knowing he's not usually one for talking during sex but you always have him rambling.

You hold him close, letting him set the pace. The sex is still perfect. Maybe more so since you know there is love behind every kiss and roll of Javi’s hips. “You are perfect.” You moan. “Even when you piss me off, I want you.”

He chuckles, kissing your jaw, "that's a good thing because I know it happens a lot." You smirk and he bites your lip, dragging it as he thrusts harder, making you whine. He releases your lip and kisses you, "you are everything. Gotta keep you safe. I'll burn this entire fucking place down to find Escobar if anything happens to you." He vows, "but that ain't gonna happen because I won't let it." He promises against your lips.

“It won’t happen.” You promise breathlessly, rocking your hips up to meet his pace. You can’t guarantee it, but you do everything you can to come home every day. “I love you, Javi.”

"Love you too." He murmurs, shifting to bury his face in your neck. He breathes in your perfume, rocking his hips, and he shifts to his knees and you cry out at the change in angle. He groans at the way you clench around him so he focuses on that angle, wanting to feel you cum for him.

It doesn’t take long for that knot to coil in your stomach. So close to cumming that your thighs tighten around him, afraid he might pull away. “Baby-“ his next thrust pushes you over the edge and you clamp down around his lengths, crying out wordlessly.

When you cum, he groans into your skin, working you through it, and he rocks into you until you stop shaking beneath him. He slides his hands under your ass, lifting you as he shuffles onto his haunches, and he sinks deeper into your pussy. "Shit, hermosa." He pants, starting to rock you on top of his cock.

You whine in agreement. He feels so good inside you. You lean up on your elbows and watch as he fucks you. “Sometime I wonder how you fit.” You moan, clenching down around him and making him hiss in pleasure. “So fucking thick.”

“You take every inch. Like you’re made for me.” He promises, watching his cock disappear inside your dripping cunt. He grunts, getting lost in the sensation, and his eyes flick up to yours. “You’re perfect.” He promises, slowing his pace. He wants you to cum again for him. “How do you want it?” He asks, wanting you to decide how you cum next.

Your brow furrows for a moment, unsure of what he means until it dawns on you. “Hands and knees.” You beg. “I want you to wreck me. Make me realize that I’m still alive. I could have died today.”

How can he deny you when you remind him of what he nearly lost. He nods, pulling out of you, and you shuffle onto your hands and knees. He groans, squeezing your ass and spreading your cheeks. He can’t help it, he leans down to spit onto your puckered hole, watching it slide between your cheeks until it pools at your cunt. “Amor.” He murmurs, gripping his cock and shuffling closer until he’s pushing into you again .

Your gasp is needy, already rocking your hips back when he fills you. You need this, desperate to feel alive and like you are not alone. That you have him. Your fingers dig into the sheets and you moan his name. “Javi.”

Javier grips your hips, dragging you back onto his cock as he thrusts deep. Your cry makes him chuckle and he smacks your ass, watching it jiggle. "Fuck. You're here." He promises, "and I am yours. You're mine. This pussy is mine."

“Yours, baby.” You echo, eyes rolling back as he drives into you. “All yours, just yours.” You are his, despite trying to get over him. You’ll never get over Javier Peña. “Fuck, baby, mooooore.”

He grunts, wrapping his arm around your waist, and he drags you up and back into his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nipping the skin as he thrusts into you in a new angle.

You turn your head and kiss along his jaw, holding on as he makes your tits shake as he fucks you. “Kiss me.” You beg, wanting his lips on yours. “Javi, kiss me.”

Javier groans your name before he kisses you. He thrusts deep and hard, wanting you to feel every inch of him, to make sure you feel alive. His tongue slides against yours and it's sloppy but he twitches inside you at how good it feels.

Your hands grab at his, holding you tight and he curls his fingers through yours. Holding your hand as both of you try to race towards the finish line as quickly as you can with every thrust.

Javier groans into your mouth, no longer kissing just exchanging air, and he breathes you in like a man needing oxygen. You are his lifeline. He squeezes your hand over your breast, grunts escaping through his gritted teeth as he works you higher. He needs you to cum for him now.

Your eyes close and every push of his hips rockets you closer. Spearing up into your soaking walls with devastating accuracy until you are stiffening in his arms. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi!” You cry out. “Jaaaaaaviiiiiiii!”

Javi groans when you clamp down onto his cock and practically scream his name, making him hiss. He pants, wrapping his other arm around you to keep you close and he pushes up into you, pace sloppy and fast as he seeks his orgasm. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls and finally he lets out a low groan as he pulses inside you. He paints your walls, eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm surges through him.

Javi lets you collapse forward, following you and pressing you down to the bed. Both of you are panting and trying to catch your breath. “I love you.” You murmur softly, smiling to yourself as his spent cock twitches inside you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier.”

Javier smiles, “I promise to take you out for an actual dinner tomorrow. And every night from now on, I’ll show you how much I love you, hermosa.” He vows, leaning in to kiss your neck after he shifts you both to your side.

“As long as we are together, I don’t care what we do.” You promise, reaching out and caressing his cheek. “Stay the night?” You ask softly, knowing that he might still want to go home and sleep on his own bed. He normally did after fucking you.

He nods, curling around you after his cock falls from your soaked cunt. “I’ll stay the night.” He promises, “and I gotta put the roses in water.” He teases, making you giggle. “Happy Valentine’s Day, hermosa.” He murmurs between kisses on your shoulder. “One to remember.” You hum and he hums against your skin. He’s made many mistakes since he arrived in Colombia but he’s not going to lose you. Not again.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña imagine #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena smut

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logansdoll · 10 months ago

Text

ivy, l. howlett (2)

you try to get to know your mystery man a little better... but big brother is always watching.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

"I think you'll be comfortable here," you assured, turning on the bedside light as you tossed a few spare blankets on the foot of Logan's bed.

"Where is your room?" he asked, innocently, his hands resting behind his back.

You raised a brow, but brushed off your slight surprise, turning on another lamp.

"Down the hall," you answered, honestly. "But I spend most of my time in the greenhouse."

He let out a soft chuckle, glancing at you out the corner of his eye as he opened the closet doors, inspecting it.

"Is that your gift? You got a green thumb?" he taunted, turning to face you.

"I'm a chlorokinetic," you corrected, unamused. "I can control plants."

"Really? What kinds of plants?" he gasped, falsely.

Instantly, the fern in the corner of the room extended and slammed the closet door shut, Logan watching with intrigue as it slowly receded back into the pot.

"I also have some communicative ability," you walked over to his bedside, sitting down on the edge and mindlessly adjusting the pillows. "It varies based on the species, but the professor is teaching me to develop it."

"I'm sure he is," he nodded, slowly stalking closer until he stood right before you, forcing you to look up at him.

God, your eyes...

The intensity of their warm brown sent a tender buzz through his chest.

"So say what that fern thinks about me."

"I'd rather not," you smirked, resting your hands on the bed as you leaned back. "He's not the nicest, and I'd hate for your feelings to be hurt."

"C'mon," he egged, his voice lowering to a deep whisper, sending shivers down your spine. "You afraid he might like me more than you?"

"I doubt it."

He raised a brow, silently asking again—and the look likely would've left you weak in the knees if you were standing.

With a playful sigh, you caved, turning to Ferdinand to hear what he had to say, letting out a quiet snicker at his colorful language before turning back to Logan.

"You look like dive-bar frequenting lumberjack, with a weird ass haircut and a shitty beard," you relayed, verbatim. "He's still going, of course, but I think you get the gist."

For the first time since you met him, Logan let out a genuine laugh, tickled by the gusto of the houseplant.

"That's—" "Ahem," a familiar voice cleared his throat, forcing you both to turn your attention to the door.

'Shit.'

"Scott," you greeted with a sigh, slowly standing up from the bed.

You didn't need telepathy to figure out he was a little more than pissed...

You'd gone against a direct order, and were caught in the act.

'Rookie mistake...'

Turning back to the lumberjack, you glanced at him with a knowing look, giving him a soft pat on the shoulder, "Good night, Logan," you wished, stepping past him and exiting the room.

Though not without giving Scott a sharp, sideways glare.

But he paid it no mind, instead focusing his attention on the stranger in the room.

"You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?" Logan cocked brow.

"My girl is away on business," Scott corrected, resting his arms behind his back.

"Hmm. Well, then, I guess you've got nothing to worry about, do ya, Cyclops?" Logan smirked, strolling toward the man.

"Yeah, it must just burn you up that a boy like me saved your life, huh?"

Logan's amusement died fast, along with his playful expression.

But Scott pressed right on, pleased to see he struck a nerve, and hoping to strike another.

"She is entirely out of your league," he stated, seriously. "So do yourself a favor and don't even bother."

And with that he shut the door, leaving Logan to steam on the other side.

'Don't even bother, my ass...'

Scott might've been right about you being out of his league—you were a gorgeous, intelligent woman with a sense of humor, who probably wouldn't give him the time of day in any other instance—but Logan liked a challenge.

And he'd be damned if he let some pretty boy tell him who he could and couldn't pursue.

"You went against a direct order—" "We were just talking, Scott," you rolled your eyes, watering Monique, your huge Monstera Deliciosa.

She was nestled nicely in the corner—perfect for indirect natural light—blending seamlessly with the countless array of other plants.

In fact, your room looked more akin to a forest than anything, green seeming to sprout from every nook and cranny, even the canopy of your bed covered in ivy and varying species of flowers.

"It looked a little more than that from where I was standing."

"Even if we weren't, that's none of your business," you scoffed, moving on to the palms. "You're not my keeper."

"But I am your leader," he corrected, firmly. "When I tell you something, I expect you to listen. Logan is bad news, and I'm not gonna let you get roped up in his mess."

"He's a chronic amnesiac with an attitude problem," you turned to him, incredulously, crossing your arms over your chest. "I assure you, I can handle him."

"It's not a matter of handling. I don't want him trying anything with you."

You and Scott, along with Ororo and Jean, had known each other since you were kids under the professor's tutelage, and with you as the youngest of the group—though not much younger than them—Scott assumed the role of an older brother.

And throughout your childhood, especially in your teens, he chased away any boy that seemed to take even the slightest liking to you.

A habit he held on to well into your twenties, and a habit that you appreciated just about as much as you did back then.

Which was not at all.

"Scott, with all due respect, I am a grown woman. And this beat the boys away routine you got going on is getting seriously old," you warned, seriously.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he pressed on, not letting up, "And trust me, I know guys like Logan, and they only bring pain and heartbreak."

"That is exactly what you said about that boy from Louisiana," you pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I think his name was Rodney or Rudy or something..."

"'Cause he was exactly the same!" Scott scoffed, disbelieving of your inability to see the patterns. "I hate to break it to ya, (n/n), but you have terrible taste in men."

"Excuse me?!"

But before you could fire back with a retort, a roar suddenly echoed throughout the house, along with a scream of terror.

Instinctively, you reached out to all the plants in the house, finding its source almost instantly.

"Logan," you realized, eyes wide as you raced out of the room, Scott right behind you.

Running out into the hall, you looked both ways, freshly awakened kids sticking their heads out their rooms to see the commotion.

"Somebody help!" Logan shouted, voice laced with panic.

You didn't have time to worry about them.

Quickly, you sprinted down the hall, the two of you barging into his room, only to find Rogue standing there, touching his cheek and seemingly draining his life force.

It looked like he'd stabbed her with his claws, and she was taking his power to close the wound.

'Holy shit...'

Scott cut on the lights just as Ororo joined you, the girl finally letting Logan go, the poor man dropping to the ground like dead weight, seizing.

"It was an accident," Rogue turned to Ororo, guiltily, before running out the room.

You swiftly moved to Logan's side, dropping to your knees to help, "Scott, grab me a pillow," you ordered, leaving no room for argument.

He quickly moved to grab one, you using your powers to grow Ferdinand much larger and stronger, before wrapping his fronds around Logan's body to act as restraints.

'This should keep him front hurting himself.'

"Pillow," Scott nodded, handing it to you.

You took it gratefully, carefully lifting Logan's head and placing it down on top.

"He'll have to ride it out. But with his healing factor I'm not too worried," you assured, brushing a loose strand of hair out his face.

With that out the way, Ororo turned to the crowd of children gathered at the door, scolding.

"Off to bed. All of you. There's nothing to see here," she ushered them away, exiting the room.

Now just you and Scott, you let out a sigh, standing up and running a hand through your hair.

You could practically feel Scott's I told you so look burning through his glasses.

"Shut up."

"I told you... bad news."

#wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #james howlett #james howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #x men x reader #x men

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webbluvrsugar · 10 months ago

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what are we? — felix catton.

cw: angst, felix’s an ass (again), suggestive, light toxic behaviour, no use of y/n.

You’re smoking a blunt leaning against Felix’s naked chest, passing it on to him every two puffs, the rain outside is heavy, the climate inside is cozy, so intimate it almost feels romantic.

It’s been nice, really.

Walking around the campus holding his hand, him grabbing you from your group of friends to kiss you against the wall and send you back off, him paying for your drinks and drag you onto his wheel of friends at the club, him asking you to help him ‘study’ but it ends up on a mess of kisses, he even invited you to see his family and spend a summer with him in Saltburn.

Everyone thinks you’re dating.

Everyone acknowledges you as Felix’s girlfriend.

But you’re not.

Every time someone mentions it, he looks at you with guilty look in his eyes and brushes it off with a laugh, when you joke with him about it between closed walls, it turns into another hookup session.

So really, what are you two?

It’s a lingering question in your mind, one that torments you in moments you shouldn’t, one that is kept on your throat and hurts when you think about it, so you finally decide to give voice to it.

“What are we?”

You ask out of the blue, his movements freeze under you, he takes another puff of the blunt, there’s a lingering silence between you.

“What?”

He asks as if he didn’t understand you, his brows slightly furrow, his hips adjust on the bed as he slightly sits up.

“I mean…” You’re not sure what you mean, you’re not sure what to say, but it’s too late to back down. “We kiss, we sleep together, you introduced me to your parents, we even go out ‘n stuff.”

There’s that silence again, Felix is taking a while to answer.

“So?”

It’s a simple question but it pierces through your heart, as if it’s totally normal to do that with a girl you hookup with every now and then, it’s not, really, you’ve been acting like his girlfriend without the title of it.

“That’s what couples do.” He doesn’t answer again. “So.. what are we?”

You sit up and pull away from him, sitting next to him on the bed, he sighs deeply, extinguishes the blunt on the ashtray and turns to you.

“We just… hookup and stuff.”

He’s trying to avoid it, you’re not, you push.

“What?!” It comes out more aggressive.

“I don’t know, fuck am i supposed to say? We have sex and shit, it’s fine like this.”

You have ‘sex and shit’?

That’s what he calls it?

When he’s all over you, kissing you and rocking into you softly, whispering sweet things in your ear you believe, things that make you feel loved.

That’s not having sex and shit, that’s commitment and he knows it, he’s just not ready to face it.

“You said you wanted me to have your babies.” You say, indignant.

“That was during sex.”

He responds quickly, leaving no room for argument.

He noticed how your expression hardens, how the glint in your eyes fade, how your brows raise.

“Look, I don’t know why you make it a big deal, I said that shit before, they were fine.”

“They?” You answer.

He gets up from the bed, runs one hair through his hair, exhales heavily under his breath. “Fuck,”

“Listen, I don’t wanna talk about this, it’s better if we just stay as we are…”

You get what he means now.

He doesn’t want commitment.

He doesn’t want to fall in love, he likes this, likes the party life, likes to always have his bed warm, likes to run freely.

But he wants to keep you, just as another one of his girls. Your friends were right, they told you about this before, told you to not trust him, yet you still did, truthfully, it’s your own fault for believing him.

“Fuck no.” You shake your head, standing up from the bed as well. “I’m not dumb, Felix, I know what you’re trying to do, and if you think that it’s normal, it isn’t, you don’t say ‘I love you’ to a fling, you don’t bring them to meet your family,” you pause.

“You don’t say they’ll be your fucking wife.”

Felix is stuck in place, his eyes widen when you mention that, right, he knew it was fucked up.

“That was a mistake.”

You get enraged, your heart is being crushed in two, this is certainly not something you want to argue about, it’ll end up nastier than it already is.

“Then go make mistakes with someone else.”

an: decided to make you this today cause I might be off tomorrow, but if you send me a request I might still answer, xo.

would you like a pt2?

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ephie-om · 3 months ago

Text

Mammon's Lesson on Humans

Mammon grinned, the adrenaline pumping through his veins heightening every sense, and the moonlight from the window was bright enough for him to see every bit of the house. It was so easy. How could he not take the opportunity? In the room so close to his, a little human slept, with their little human possessions. They were all going to be his eventually. But he needed something tonight, a little piece. It still smelled of them, their human stench a reminder of who it was stolen from.

Was that a thump from their room? Were they awake? He could almost laugh. Normally he wouldn’t want to get caught in the act, but the human had all the odds against them. Nobody they could call for help. They were a lamb in a house full of wolves, put there by the prince of wolves in the name of “peace” and “unity”. What could they possibly do?

Their door creaked open. They stepped out, rubbing their eyes. Human eyes were terrible in the darkness, and he wondered if they could even see him, standing right there. A few beats passed, and their eyes must have adjusted, because their gaze swiveled straight towards him. “Mammon,” they said, their voice low. “Did you take my plushie?”

He did laugh then, though quietly. The soft pink bunny dangled from his clawed hand, sharp points threatening to pierce the fabric. “Yeah. Yeah, I did take your little bunny.”

“Give it back.” His smile dropped. A simple human, demanding something from him?

“Over my dead body,” he snapped, and started to move.

He ran down the stairs, using his wings to lighten his steps. The human went after him, but they were no match for his supernatural speed. He was out the front door in mere seconds, leaving them in the dust. He flew high into the sky, the moon drenching the plushie in pale light, making it look almost white. He admired his prize, turning it this way and that. What was it that the humans said? Like taking candy from a baby.

His superior demon eyesight caught the front door of the House of Lamentation opening again, and there they were, having swapped out their pajamas for sweatpants and a hoodie and adjusting their shoes. Did they really mean to go after him? What a pain. Their eyes caught him hovering silhouetted against the moon, and they started to run. He just chuckled and flew away.

He drifted this way and that, leading them into the woods. He flew lazily, and laughed to himself at how slow they were. There was no way they were going to be able to catch up to him. He weaved in and out of trees, slowing down just enough to let them see him with their bunny clutched in hand, then put on a burst of speed to take him away again.

After the fifth time, his lungs were starting to ache. They were just a human. They had to be slowing down, right? He turned his head back and caught sight of them, much too close for his comfort. He sped away again, but slower than before. His wing joints hurt, not designed for long-term use. But behind him was the human, still running. He could hear their breath behind him, smell the sweat. And yet they weren’t slowing down.

Just a small break, he thought. Just a moment to breathe and rest his wings, then he would be off again. He landed near the base of a tree, tucking himself behind the trunk so he wouldn’t be seen. Maybe they would get lost and go a different direction. He clamped the plushie tightly in his arms just in case.

Unfortunately for Mammon, the human’s breathing reached his ears much sooner than he expected. He stretched out his wings, ready to fly again, took off, and dropped onto the ground. Shit. He tried again, only to get a few feet further and hit the ground again, plowing up fallen leaves. Now the stupid bunny was dirty and it smelled like a human.

Their footfalls got closer and closer, and Mammon accepted his fate. Even if they caught him, he could hang onto the bunny. There was no way they could be strong enough to take it from him. He stayed on the ground, facing away from their steps.

They came up to him only a few moments later, breathing hard. “Give it back,” they repeated, panting. Mammon laid there stubbornly. “Mammon. Let go.” They tugged on one of the ears experimentally, but his grip was rock-solid.

He growled. “No. I stole it from ya and now it’s mine.” His eyes gleamed yellow on the word ‘mine’, but the human wasn’t impressed. They gave it another fruitless tug, scared to pull too hard. “You’ll rip it in half if ya keep going. Guess you’ll just have to let me have it.” Their hand dropped away and he glanced up, thinking the battle won.

Instead, he was greeted with a close-up view of the human’s face as their glare pinned him in place. “Let me put this a different way. If you steal my bunny, damage my bunny, sell my bunny, I will hunt you down. I’m a stupid human with no magic and no brain, and I will run after you for a hundred years if that’s what it takes. Do you really want to keep doing this for the rest of my life?”

Mammon wouldn’t call himself a scaredy-cat; no, he would call himself one of the bravest demons in the Devildom. But he would also reason that the bravest demons in the Devildom would make the smart choice and let a little pink bunny go. They tugged it from his grip and secured it in their arms, brushing off leaves and frowning at the smudges of dirt marring its fur. They walked away without another word, slowly, like they had all the time in the world. Mammon was left in the dirt, heart thumping.

A few weeks later, Satan is sharing fun facts with the common room like usual. This time he has a book on humans, one of the many he read in preparation for the exchange program, but he’s deemed it necessary to share pertinent pieces with his brothers due to their abysmal lack of knowledge. “Humans’ bones can break and heal themselves in a matter of weeks,” he drones, and Mammon wonders how long he has to pretend to listen before Satan will let him go. “Oh, this one’s interesting. Humans rose to the top of their food chain as predators despite not having naturally evolved defenses. They’re something called an ‘endurance predator’, meaning they would chase their prey until it got tired, then finish it off and eat it.” Mammon swallows hard. His eyes wander to the human playing a game on their phone in a chair near the fireplace, and he scoots an inch further away. Just enough to give himself a head start.

#obey me #obey me swd #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #om mammon #obey me mc #om mc #obey me crack #ephie writes #inspired by my irl Usa-chan plushie from OHSHC :)

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golden-cherry · 1 year ago

Text

deal - cl16 (20/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's one person that you don't want to see standing in front of your door in the middle of the night.

Warnings: angst (like, a lot), super many swear words, asshole!Charles, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, Raphael

Word Count: 3.7k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: couldn't let you wait another week after that cliffhanger. thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start. couldn't have done it without you. here's to 20 chapters and so much more to come.

It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light and you recognize who is standing in front of your apartment door. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, and as soon as you recognize the face of the person who hurt you, you push against the door with all your strength to slam it shut.

But Raphael is quicker and shoves his foot in between. "I just want to talk."

You briefly consider kicking his shoe and kicking him out of the door frame. Something that would certainly hurt a lot barefoot. But you can't take a step back to slip into your shoes either, because Raphael would see that as an invitation. So you stand there rooted to the spot, your fingers clasped around the door handle and your shoulder leaning against the door so that at least some counterbalance keeps him from entering the apartment.

"Please, Y/N."

"What about my previous behavior makes it seem like I'm in any way interested in having a conversation with you?" you hiss hostilely in a hushed voice. After all, the neighbors don't need to hear what's going on in the hallway in the middle of the night.

He raises his hands placatingly. "I know you want to sort this out between us as much as I do."

"I want you to leave me the hell alone." You lean against the door a little more so there's more pressure on the sides of his foot, forcing him to pull it out sooner or later.

"This can't really be what you want. Please, Y/N." He tilts his head. "We both know how much you miss me. And how much you need me."

You have to stifle your laughter, even though there's nothing at all funny about this situation. "I'm not the person who keeps calling my ex and suddenly turns up at the door in the middle of the night."

"I just want to explain myself. And that everything is like it used to be."

"Then you shouldn't have been fucking other women." Your tone is icy. "Why can't you just leave me alone and get out of my life?"

Raphael crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he's offended that you're seriously asking him that. "Because I love you. So let me in, please."

You narrow your eyes. "Not a chance."

His gaze, which looked halfway human a moment ago, hardens. "Is he here? Is he listening to us right now?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Don't play dumber than you are. I'm talking about your fucking roommate I spoke to on the phone the other day." He puts a palm against the door and you feel his weight pressing against you. "Is he here?"

By now you're bracing yourself against the door with all your weight. Your heart is hammering in your chest. Raphael is not someone who would hurt anyone else. But his cold stare and the pressure against the door make you think otherwise. Must make you think something else to protect yourself. If he manages to walk through that door - thank God Charles is in Italy.

"This is none of your business," you try to say as normally as possible.

"If some random guy is fucking my girlfriend, then it is definitely my business."

"I'm not your girlfriend, remember? You cheated on me and dumped me." You take a deep breath to get rid of the tremor in your voice. "So just leave me alone. I don't want anything more to do with you."

Raphael laughs. "I didn't cheat on you." When you raise an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "My God, so I slept with a few women, so what? I had needs. And you didn't want to."

You're on the verge of crushing his foot. "Are you actually listening to yourself? Do you hear the complete bullshit you're talking?"

"Don't be like that. I bet you've been sleeping with your roommate to get one over on me, too." He leans a little in your direction. "Why don't you explain to me why you slept with him but not with me, your boyfriend?" When you don't answer him, but just look at him venomously, a disgusting grin spreads across his face. "I'm telling you: because you're a little bitch." He takes his hand off the door and instantly your body relaxes a little. But the calm doesn't last long. "Did you hear that?" Raphael suddenly yells through the hallway, waking up all the neighbors within a 200-meter radius. "She's a little bitch. Come and get her. She really gets it on with everyone."

You open the door a little, but only to stand fully in the doorway. "Are you crazy? Be quiet, you'll wake up the whole of Monaco!"

His head jerks in your direction. "Why? Don't you want your roommate to know who you really are?"

If Raphael hadn't been shouting like that, you would certainly have heard the loud footsteps coming up the stairs. But all you see is a shadow and then you see familiar green eyes looking into yours. Charles is standing on the top step of the stairs, his eyes fixed on you, but before you can say anything, ask him why he's not in Italy, his gaze flits to Raphael and even from a distance you can see that Charles' body is tensing.

Raphael follows your eyes and takes a step back when he sees your roommate standing in front of him. Charles could have been anyone - a neighbor complaining about the noise, a delivery man dropping off food - but from the way the Monegasque is glaring at your ex, there's no doubt. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?" Raphael runs his fingers nervously through his hair before taking a step in Charles' direction and holding out his hand. "Wow, it's an honor to meet you! I'm a big fan!"

Charles Leclerc? Honor? Big fan?

Charles looks down at the outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake before he pushes past the man without answering and positions himself in front of you. You see his tense back muscles dance beneath his sweater as he turns to Raphael. "You should go."

"I think you've got this whole thing wrong," your ex tries to wriggle out of the situation. "Y/N is my girlfriend and we-"

"Ex-girlfriend," the brunette interjects without batting an eyelid.

Raphael scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we're just trying to sort that out. Would you please give us a moment so we can work this out?"

Charles doesn't even need to turn around to know that's the last thing you want. "No. I'm sure there's nothing to sort out. I'm not going to ask you to leave again."

Your ex snorts and raises his hands placatingly. "I don't want to argue with you. Like I said, I'm a huge fan and I watch every race. But the matter only involves Y/N and me, which is why I'm asking you to step aside so we can work this out."

"And I said no." His tone is cool and calm, almost threatening, and his gaze is so piercing it sends a cold shiver down your spine.

Raphael rolls his eyes. "And I thought you were a cool guy. That's how you come across on TV, anyway." He takes a step towards you both and Charles pushes himself completely in front of you so that you can no longer see Raphael. "Your little girlfriend there is a slut, did you know that? A stupid little whore who-"

"Do you actually like your job? You still work in accounting at this one company, don't you? With the emphasis on 'still'," Charles asks calmly. As your ex takes a step back, Charles takes a step forward. "So if you want to keep it, I suggest you leave Y/N alone once and for all. You won't show up here, you won't call her again, you won't even think about her. And if you even think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you can't find a job anywhere. Do you understand me?" When your ex doesn't answer, Charles takes another step, causing Raphael to flinch and almost fall down the stairs. "Did you hear me?"

"Clearly and distinctly."

"Good." You can hear Charles' friendly smile. "Have a good evening, then." He looks after Raphael, who quickly scurries down the stairs, and only turns to you as the front door slams shut.

But instead of asking you if everything is all right, he storms past you into the apartment without a word. You quickly close the door behind you, follow him on foot and find him in the bedroom, where he pulls a large sports bag out of the chest of drawers, which he carelessly throws onto the rumpled bed. He starts to clear out the closet.

"Charles?" you ask hesitantly, but remain standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?" When he doesn't answer, but pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and taps on it briefly before pocketing it again, you enter the room. "Charles? Say something, please."

"What do you want to hear from me?" he asks coldly, grabbing some clothes from the closet. Only when you take a closer look do you realize that these are your clothes that didn't fit in your small suitcase.

"I don't know," you answer helplessly. "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't even look at you. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing your things." He stuffs one of your shirts into the small side pocket. "So we can finally move out of here."

Confused, you look at him and sit on the edge of the bed. Far enough away from him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really think you're going to stay here one more day after your crazy ex turned up? You were going to move out anyway, so we might as well get this over with."

You had told him that you were leaving this apartment, but you never expected him to throw you out of the apartment himself. Especially not today, when he wasn't supposed to be in Monaco, but in Italy. "Are you kicking me out?"

Charles zippers up the bag before placing it next to the suitcase and pulling the next bag out of the dresser and fills it with clothes. "Didn't you listen to me? We're moving out. I'm not leaving you alone in this apartment for another moment."

Charles's change of mood almost gives you whiplash. Yesterday he threw the nastiest words at you, made you cry and hurt you so much that you were seriously considering leaving the country. And now he's standing there packing your things into sports bags because he what? Doesn't want your ex to come back here to harass you again?

Puzzled, you sit on the bed while Charles goes through the apartment and collects all the personal belongings he can find.

Why is he here when he's supposed to be in Italy? Why is he packing your things so that you can move out of this apartment if he doesn't care about you? And the biggest question is - how does Raphael know Charles? What races was he talking about? Why does he know him from TV?

Who is Charles Leclerc?

"Here, get changed," he snaps you out of your thoughts and throws you a pair of sweatpants and the white sweater he was wearing in the bookstore. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you to freeze to death." He grabs the bags and disappears out of the bedroom to give you some privacy.

You quickly change, pull his sweater over your head and as you breathe in his scent, you could cry. The fact that Charles is here, defending you after he treated you so badly, confuses you so much that you don't know which way is up and which way is down. After yesterday, you hate him, you want to hate him, but Lando's words haunt your mind and apparently there's some truth to them, because otherwise Charles wouldn't have driven all the way to Monaco in the middle of the night.

But why is he here? Why did he leave his meetings so much earlier? Did he feel guilty? Did Lando talk to him? Why is he back here with you after just one day?

He doesn't even look at you when you leave the bedroom in his clothes. He just grabs the bags and your suitcase and you're about to ask him if you should carry something too, but he's already disappeared out of the front door and into the dark hallway. You quickly grab the last of your belongings and follow him down the stairs, but instead of heading for the underground parking garage, he leaves the house and heads towards the street.

"Where are you going?" you ask, out of breath, when you finally catch up with him. Without a word, he stops in front of a black car with a red and white stripe across it. It looks expensive, much more expensive than your old Renault, which is only confirmed by the horse on the hood and rims. "Whose car is this?"

"Get in," he says curtly as he unlocks the luxury ride and starts to put the bags away. When you don't move, he turns to you. "I won't say it again. Get in the damn car, Y/N."

"Why?" you ask, confused and also a little desperate. "Why would I get in the car with you? Give me one good reason."

Annoyed, he runs his hand through his hair so that it stands on end. "Either you get in the car now or I'll make you. It's your decision."

You cross your arms in front of your chest. By now you're annoyed by his behavior. "You can't force me."

"You bet I can." He takes a step closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Get in the fucking car."

There's a twinkle in his green eyes that stops you from challenging him. Silently, you get in on the passenger side of the car and plop down on the leather seat as Charles circles the hood. A few minutes later, as you're driving along Monaco's streets, the silence between you is unbearable.

"Where are we going?" you ask, but get no answer. The Monegasque drives the car over the asphalt with an angry look on his face, even driving too fast, but he doesn't seem to care. "At least you can tell me where you're taking me. You owe me that after you dragged me out of the apartment."

"We're going to my other place."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "The one Annika lives in?"

Charles takes a turn without using his blinker. "Yes."

"And how do you picture that?" You turn in his direction. "You want me to share the apartment with your ex? Are you completely insane?"

He exhales loudly. "She won't be there when we get there."

"We? What do you mean 'we'?"

"I have to stay somewhere. Now that we both can't stay in the second apartment anymore."

Your voice sounds a little shrill as you answer him. "I wasn't planning on moving out of one apartment so I could move into another with you. Drive me to a hotel or somewhere else, but I don't want to live with you."

After all, he was the reason you wanted to move out of the apartment in the first place. He treated you badly, let you down - why should you spend another night with him? Especially since he still seems angry with you?

As the car comes to a halt, he looks over at you. "I don't care what you want right now. You're staying here tonight where I know you're okay and that asshole can't get too close to you. Tomorrow you can throw every insult you can think of at me, but right now you do what I tell you. Do you understand me?"

His authoritative and commanding tone leaves no room for discussion, so you just nod silently and get out of the car. You are in an underground parking garage, similar to the other one, but there are other cars here. Expensive cars, like the Ferrari you drove here in.

Are these all his cars? Where did Charles get the money for a Ferrari? What-

"Come on. I won't wait forever." His voice brings you back to reality and like a toddler you follow him out of the garage, into the elevator and finally into the apartment, which is surprisingly empty. You don't have a moment's peace to look around as Charles has already unlocked a room and put your things inside.

"The guest room is unused." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I know it's not the best solution for everything here, but I can't change it now. If you want to move out tomorrow, then do so. But please do me a favor and stay here tonight." His expression is softer and his voice is a little warmer than it was a few minutes ago, but that doesn't make you forget how the evening went.

"I'll be gone in the morning," you reply stubbornly, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Charles just nods and leaves you in the hallway so that you can enter your room undisturbed and keep to yourself.

After closing the door behind you, you take off your warm clothes and fall onto the bed in your underwear without turning on the light. It is unused, the comforter is spread out on the mattress and the pillows feel as plush as if they had just been fluffed up. But as soon as your head touches the soft fabric and you breathe in, you are completely enveloped in Charles' scent. And you can't stop the tears streaming down your face as your body finally comes to rest.

The fact that Raphael suddenly turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night has already thrown you off course. You never expected him to have the nerve to show up at your place - a pretty stupid thought when you remember that he had already tried to find you there recently. But actually seeing him, listening to his garbage, really ruined the evening that Lando had actually saved so far.

And then came Charles, your knight in shining armour, who stood up for you so heroically and defended you, even though he had broken your heart just one day before.

His behavior is completely at odds with what he's doing.

He drags you out of the apartment so that Raphael can no longer find you there, but forces you to go with him to this apartment, even though he knows that you don't want to have anything more to do with him.

He packs your things, wants you to spend the night with him so he can be sure you're safe, but is so cold and dismissive to you that you might think Charles has multiple personalities.

And then there's the fact that Raphael seems to know him. Even his full name. And he didn't pronounce it the way you do with people you just haven't seen for a long time but happen to meet on the street. His intonation was different, as if the name Charles Leclerc carried weight, as if he was something special, as if you had to know him. But who the hell is Charles Leclerc?

Is he the man who took you in when you didn't know where to go? The one in whom you found a friend you never really wanted to miss? The one you fell in love with without even wanting to?

Or is he the man who hurt you, rejected you, only to stand up for you in a domineering and possessive way? The one who took your heart and trampled on it, only to do everything he could to keep you safe a day later?

Who is Charles Leclerc?

Your shoulders shake and your breath comes in painful gasps as you wrap your arms around your middle and press your face into the pillow. Your throat feels constricted, your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump out of your chest. And this headache. They make you blind and deaf, which is why you don't notice the door to your room quietly opening and then falling back into the lock.

Only when you feel the mattress lower behind you do you realize that Charles is with you. You want to turn to him, scream at him and send him packing, but you don't get the chance. Your tears stifle every sound and your body is shaking so badly that you can do nothing but lie there.

You don't question it when you feel Charles' chest against your back. "I'm here," he whispers softly as he wraps his arm around you and hugs you tightly. His other hand finds its way into your hair, which he strokes gently as his touch warms you. "It's all right, mon amour. I'm here," he repeats, tangling his bare legs with yours to pull you even closer to him. Not a piece of paper, not even a hair fits between you.

Charles' skin is soft and smooth against yours, you feel the tiny hairs of his forearm against yours as he reaches out to grab your hand and finally intertwines your fingers. It feels like they were made for this. As if you were made for him.

You want to turn around, to look at him, but his iron grip around your middle won't allow it, so you just press yourself against him, as close as you can, to be enveloped by him. By his smell, his warmth. Him.

"Charles," you sigh into the darkness and feel the tip of his nose against your neck.

"I'm here, mon amour." He presses a feather-light kiss to your bare shoulder. "I'm here as long as you'll let me."

next part

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trippinsorrows · 2 months ago

Text

my all + part 2

authors note: well, you whores have done it again. finessed a part 2 out of something from me. and because i'm me, i took it too far, so expect a third and final part after this one.

i took a little too much inspo from batman lore as well as joker and harley quinn.

tldr: this shit is unhinged.

part one

disclaimer: i own none of the recognizable characters or universes.

words: 7.7k

*** gif belongs to @dejameflorecer ***

story song inspo: 'my all' by mariah carey /// chapter song inspo: gangsta by kehlani

warnings: smut and angst

Roman loves when she rides him.

It’s something Solana has noticed about most men. A favorite position of sorts. She’s not sure if it’s his number one favorite, but it’s pretty high up there. He especially loves when she rides him reverse cowgirl, loves seeing the bounce of her juicy ass up and down on his massive cock.

She can’t lie and try to say it hasn’t become one of her favorite positions as well. Being on top is such an exhaustive thing. Knees hurting, thighs aching, cramps and galore. It’s a workout for sure, something she was never really crazy about with sexual partners in the past.

But, they weren’t Roman.

There’s no man like him.

No one who can fuck her and bring out such a dirty, kinky side of her like him.

That man can do just about anything to and with her in the bedroom, and she’ll be a sobbing, overstimulated mess every single time.

Solana cries out when Roman’s hand comes down on her ass. That’s another thing he seems to love. Grabbing and slapping her ass, an almost mesmerized look in his eyes every time it jiggles and recoils from the movement.

And, there’s a lot of movement coming from said position.

“That’s a good girl,” he goads, his voice dripping with desire and lust. “Look at how good you ride daddy’s dick.”

She moans, eyes shut, hands playing with her nipples, head thrown back. “Does it feel good, daddy?”

“Feels fucking amazing,” he groans. Solana can only imagine the enchanted expression on his handsome face. His hair wild and free, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead from all the exertion.

They’ve been at it for almost two hours now with only brief breaks in between rounds.

“Such a good, submissive pretty girl for me,” he compliments, Solana moaning from the praise. She’s quickly and easily become a whore for such things, for his approval. To be not only his pretty girl but his good girl.

“God, your dick feels so good inside me,” she whimpers. Roman’s hand moves to the small of her slick back, applying just enough pressure to tell her exactly what he wants. Bending over, Solana grabs for Roman’s ankles, using them to stabilize herself as she bounces higher, hips and ass wiggling as she alternates between bouncing and grinding.

A lethal combination.

“Fuck, Sol, just like that. Ride this dick like you own it, baby.”

“I do,” she responds, eyes still closed, caught up in the bliss and pleasure that comes from his thick dick in and out of her, touching and reaching her in all the best and right places. “This is my dick.”

A sense of possessiveness unlike her. But, to be fair, almost everything about her relationship with Roman is unlike her.

She’s a loose version of herself.

Something she’s having a hard time even caring about the longer this shit goes on.

Another slap to her ass. “Damn straight.” Solana is caught up in the sex filled haze when she’s suddenly moved, shifted entirely. Roman expertly adjusts them, never once leaving her slippery, wet ass pussy as he moves to his knees. Solana is propelled forward, half her body now hanging off the bed, her hands planted on the ground.

“Shit!”

Roman is now pounding into her from behind, her body jerking back and forth at the end of the bed, her hands sliding all over the place.

“Best goddamn pussy I’ve ever fucking had,” he praises once more as tears burn Solana eyes from the depth and feel of him. “Ain’t nobody better than you, baby. Nobody.”

Solana is partially paying attention and mostly trying not to lose her goddamn mind from this new position. Roman stays splitting her open, pinning her down, turning her left, right, side to side and in any other way he can imagine. He be doing just anything, and she eats it up every single time.

She’s addicted, to say the least.

Her body is his sex rag doll to do as he pleases, and it shames her to admit that it’s truly one of the greatest joys in life to serve the Tribal Chief as she does.

His pretty little slut, as he calls her.

An honor, truly.

To the surprise of no one, Solana comes all over his dick, her cream coating his still fully erect member, all over her ass, lap, the bed. Everywhere. They always make such a mess during these visits.

But, Roman is a man who needs more than that. Always more.

He moves her once more, propping her right on his dick, facing him this time. His big hands on her hips moving her up and down his length, fucking her right through her orgasm. The tears have spilled over. It all just feels too good, so good.

“Doesn’t daddy take good care of you?” He groans, still guiding her, recognizing she’s in no position—just yet—to take him on her own. She’s still trying to come down from her orgasm, something he can tell by the way her cunt keeps pulsing and clenching him.

“Yes,” she gasps, hands over his, eyes fluttering open and close. “A–always.”

It takes a minute, and it’s not helped at all by the way he keeps thrusting in and out of her with an unhealthy need, but she eventually settles enough to take over. Solana moves Roman’s hands from her hips, holding them up on the side of his head. Body leaned over his as she rides him like her life depends on it, the eroticness of it all is increased as he takes her nipple into his mouth, sucking and moaning.

Solana cries out, her pleasure just intensified by ten. Roman loves her big breast and never bypasses an opportunity to suck on her titties, just like she never wastes a chance to deepthroat him in the way she’s learned he loves. Fucking her throat while she plays with his balls.

Their freak knows no end when it comes to each other.

Roman is an equal opportunist, giving each breast the appropriate amount of attention, but he eventually tires and wants something else.

He detaches his mouth from her right breast with a loud pop, tugging Solana down so he can kiss her. A wet, sloppy thing that has both of them moaning into and on each other as she continues to grind down on his addictive, life changing dick.

“Tell me you love me.”

Filthy, naughty, nasty things are usually said in the bedroom or wherever else Roman decides to fuck her. Most of them come from him, some from her when he gets her in that raunchy space as only he can do.

And, it’s not always just the obscene confessions. There are times where it’s less kinky and a lot more romantic. Kind and caring. Roman always has such a range about him, always somehow knowing just what she needs and how she needs it.

But, this…..this is different.

Solana has never said anything like this.

Never demanded anything like this.

She’s thought about it. Thought about it so much to the extent that her head started to hurt.

She knows she loves Roman. Knows that she’s in love with Roman, but she’s never been able to settle on a final answer regarding if he, in fact, loves her.

So, such a thing escaping the cages of her deepest fears is an unfortunate thing indeed.

The body takes a second to respond, so there’s a delay that prevents Solana from freezing and settling into the panic that ceases all movement. But, it’s an unnecessary thing.

It’s unnecessary, because Roman responds.

“I love you, baby.”

Now, that….that definitely takes the cake.

Because what?

Solana has no time to process that, either, because Roman is sitting up, pulling her chest flush against him. He stares at her, gradually dragging her against his length, never breaking eye contact. She just continues to stare back, mouth partially ajar, as he brings his hand to her face. A tenderness in the way he cups her cheek matched by the shift of wild, erratic fucking to an almost gentle type of lovemaking.

“I love you, Solana.”

It’s the second reiteration that breaks the shock, that has Solana scoffing quietly in disbelief. Eyes shut, he kisses her lips, Solana holding onto and hugging him as he buries his face into her neck. Another utterance occurs, pressed into her skin, lodging into her soul, shattering what little defenses remain.

Clutching the back of his head, hugging him tighter as he fucks her deeper, she whimpers, “I love you, too….”

—------

She doesn’t say anything after that.

Nothing regarding that mind-blowing, unexpected confession. Part of it is fear, part of it is disbelief. A lot of it is still being in a state of shock.

Skepticism, even.

A lot of things get said during sex. Especially sex with Roman. What if it was something just said in the heat of the moment without much thought? After all, she was the one who kicked it off, who brought it up in the first place.

What if he just wanted to get his nut and didn’t want to risk upsetting her by telling her the truth? By rejecting her?

All valid questions, in her mind. None of which she wants the answers to.

A few hours later, Solana stands in the kitchen, having just finished washing up the dishes from the dinner she’d cooked for them. Nothing nearly as nice as she’d like, given limited supplies and resources but enough, enough for them.

She’s drying her hands and hanging the wash towel over the faucet when Roman comes up behind her.

A small smile on her face as he holds her and kisses the side of her neck. Solana grasps onto his arms and readies to ask him to lay down with her.

She’s exhausted.

For more reasons than he realizes.

“I’ll be out sometime next month.”

Solana’s eyes widen. It seems the day is just full of surprises.

She turns to look at him, whispering almost, “what?”

Roman makes a sound, lifting his hand to her face. His index finger traces the outline of her full lips. “That’s why they were here earlier. To give me the update.”

The they he speaks of refers to his two cousins, Jimmy and Jey, as well as his older brother, Matteo. On a couple of occasions, during their EFV visits, the men who are also apart of his inner circle, have come over. They never stay long, never over an hour. The four of them talking quietly amongst themselves as Solana sort of hides out in the bedroom, door closed.

It’s not a thing of fear. Any and all interactions with the other men have been pleasant. Silly, almost, as the twins are certainly characters. Matteo is very much like his brother, more on the quiet side. But, he’s always been kind, always respectful. The three of them, in a weird sort of way, the kind of people she could see befriending.

If not for the weird circumstances.

“About fucking time….” Roman trails off, an undeniable sense of relief on his handsome face and in his voice. But, it doesn’t extend to Solana. Not in the way that it probably should.

It can’t. It can’t, because what she’s been avoiding for almost five months now can no longer be avoided. That terrifying question of what happens when Roman is released from prison. It’s a question she finally has to ask.

There’s no more room for avoidance.

“So…what happens now?”

A heavy frown falls on his face as he eyes her, asking with understandable confusion. “What do you mean?”

Solana swallows. This is the last conversation she expected to be having today, even if it’s something she should have seen coming. She knew it would come at some point. Just not this point.

“What—what happens when you’re out?” Wording it is significantly more difficult than she could have imagined. Each question feels like a slow slice of the knife into her gentle, sensitive heart. “Will this….will this all be over?” Her eyes glaze over with unshed tears. “Is….is this the end?”

A terrifying, devastating question she’s not sure she wants or can even handle the answer to.

Solana doesn’t want this to end.

Ever.

“Sol….” Roman’s frown deepens as he turns her around completely, hands lifting to gently cup her face. “Baby, where is this coming from?”

There’s something about that question that irrationally upsets her. Annoys her for reasons she can’t identify. “You’re—you’re leaving, Roman. We won’t—we won’t see each other anymo—”

“Solana.” His voice lowers, shifting into something authoritative. “I’m leaving this shithole. Not you.” He looks around the trailer with disgust before landing his gaze back on her. Confused and sympathetic. “I could never leave you….I love you, Solana.”

Solana can only look at him, briefly returning to that state of shock at hearing him say something she’d stupidly tried to convince herself was a fluke.

“You….” A hushed, almost whispered thing, weighed down by continued apprehension. “You do?”

Roman’s expression of shock only deepens her shock. “Of course.” He sounds almost offended that she could even ask such a thing, like she should already know. “You have to fucking know that, Solana.”

No, she doesn’t. She didn’t.

“Why do you think I do everything I do for you? Look out for you the way I do? Make sure you’re safe and taken care of?” Him listing off each question is the equivalent of that same knife previously digging into her heart, now gradually being pulled out.

Solana swallows, suddenly feeling just a little stupid. Stupid for not putting all of the glaring pieces together. Still, he deserves an answer. Deserves the truth. “The sex….”

“I’ve fucked a lot of women in my life, Solana.” It’s not a boastful announcement. Nothing arrogant. Just the beginning of a profound point. “And never have I done any of the shit I do for you for them. You know why?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just dips his head to ghost his lips over hers. “Because I never loved them the way I love you.” His eyes flutter shut, his volume dropping. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

Stunned.

Solana is stunned.

The day she’s dreaded has just, in a matter of seconds, with a few, powerful, life-changing sentences, has become the day she’s vied for since the moment she laid eyes on Roman Reigns.

Roman loves her.

He actually fucking loves her.

It’s such a wonderful, overwhelming feeling, to say the least.

And since they’re in the space of confession, and she feels so loved in this moment, Roman kissing the top of her head, his other moving to the small of her back, she has to take advantage of it.

Has to share her own confession of sorts.

“Roman….” He looks down at her, and her heart, for lack of better term, skips a beat. Here goes nothing. “I—I’m pregnant.”

Something about telling Roman that she loved him was always terrifying, but there was something even more intimidating about sharing that piece of information with him. Info she’s been sitting on for almost a week, but something she’s known even longer.

As a woman and a nurse, Solana was certain she already knew what her test results would come back with. She knows herself, knows her body, and she definitely knew that the chances were high. A bad experience with the IUD left her sworn off birth control, along with Roman not once ever even mentioning a condom, conjoined with the fact that they fuck almost several times a week. It all made sense.

Of course, she would end up pregnant.

The very thing she wanted.

And, maybe, just maybe, he wanted as well.

Because the small smile on his face doesn’t seem like something from a man who’s upset at such life altering news. “Yeah?” She watches him shift that hand from her back to her stomach, where he slides his hand under her shirt and over her belly. “Are you sure?”

Solana hesitates. It all still feels so unreal. “Yeah….” She licks her lips, something calm coming over her as he moves his hand in small circles. “I’m—I’m six weeks.”

Another unexpected response. “Good.”

Solana feels even more stupid just staring at him, but the response she’s receiving isn’t exactly what she was expecting. “You’re…you’re happy?” It’s less a question and more an assessment. Solana didn’t think that he’d be upset, per se, but she also wasn’t expecting such an….almost jovial response and disposition.

“I told you I was going to put a baby in you,” he reminds. Even more, she’d asked him to give her a baby. Another important detail. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, Solana.” Her chest tightens. It’s the first time he’s referred to beyond this prison ordeal. His big hand stills, planted flatly and protectively on her belly. “Our child is just the beginning of that.”

She scoffs in waning disbelief, as Roman lifts her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “I don’t want you working here anymore.”

Solana’s smile falters just a bit. “Wh–what?” Yet another unexpected thing to leave his mouth for the nineteenth time today. “W–why?”

His answer is simple and firm. “It’s not safe.” Solana goes to protest when he reminds her of the basic facts. “You being pregnant and working as a correctional nurse in a maximum security prison is a disaster waiting to happen, Sol.”

He doesn't have to bring up her attack for her to know that's largely what he's indirectly referring to.

“It won’t happen again,” she points out, softly. Her hand is planted on his chest. “You—you made sure of that.”

Prisoners taken to her infirmary have barely even looked at her, let alone had the balls to get smart—or worse since Roman's act of vengeance. His grisly message was loud and clear.

She’s off limits. Something about her being pregnant doesn’t seem like it’d change anything, but Roman seems to think otherwise.

“I won’t risk it,” he announces. “I won’t risk anything happening to you.” He resumes his circular movements across the span of her belly. “Or our baby.”

There’s something almost soft and caring about the way he says it. About how he says our baby, because that’s exactly what and who this is. Their child. A child he’s clearly only looking out for. The same way he always looks out for her.

And, Solana knows he’s right. Knows that her continuing to work at the prison probably isn’t the best. Not for a lot of reasons.

The smart decision is for her to quit and find another job.

“Okay,” she agrees, looking up at him. “I’ll—I’ll put in my two weeks Monday.”

Relief flashes in his hazel eyes. “Good.” He leans down and kisses her. Soft, slow, and sensual. Just the way she likes. The ways she loves. He wraps his arms around her once more, Solana’s eyes shutting from the instant comfort and warmth he grants. “I’m gonna take care of you, Solana. I always will.” A beat. “I promise.”

—----

Solana waits to tell them.

Waits until she’s showing and therefore unable to keep it a secret any longer.

The table is filled with conversation amongst her siblings and parents. Her nieces and nephews playing out back, being watched by the older kids. Teenagers.

Solana’s been on the quiet side the entire evening. Not that it’s noticed by anyone or any different from most of their family gatherings. Rarely does anyone ever notice much about her, period.

But, they did notice the 2025 Range Rover parked out front in her parents driveway. A gift from Roman. One of many.

Just like the penthouse he gifted her. Separate from the one he lives in. The one they live in together.

“I’m pregnant.”

It goes largely unheard and unaddressed. Not that Solana is surprised. That’s usually the case. However, one hand on the bump concealed under her babydoll shirt, and she knows this is one of those times where she can’t let it go.

She has to say something.

So, she does.

“I’m pregnant.” A repeating that’s louder and firmer, even though it only catches the attention of her older sister, Zuri.

Zuri looks at her, instantly scowling. Also unsurprising. Zuri, of all her siblings, is the most….difficult, to say the least. “What?” The smile on Isabella’s face dims when she notices her big sister scowling at Solana. “What did you just say?”

It’s only then that Solana has gathered the attention of almost everyone at the table. A stressful thing but something she wanted.

Here goes nothing.

“I said….” Solana takes a deep breath, continuing to rub her belly under the table. “I’m pregnant.”

She’s met with an array of expressions, some confused, some amused, and some floored.

“You’re kidding, right?” DJ scoffs, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin, looking around the table for some indicator of him being the only one not in on the joke. “You’re not serious?”

“Of course, she’s not,” Isabella laughs. It’s a nervous laugh. “Sola isn’t even seeing anyone right now, how could she be pregnant?”

Zuri remains scowling, wisely pointing out. “You don’t have to be dating anyone to get knocked up. Fucking is a commitment free thing.”

“Language,” Nina, Solana’s mother scolds her oldest daughter. She then looks over at Solana, nervous as all outdoors. “Sweetheart, what do you mean you’re pregnant?”

Having a set of speculative eyes on her does little to settle Solana’s nerves, but it doesn’t deter her from carrying through with her task. “I mean that I’m pregnant.” Realizing a more….visible display is required, Solana stands up and lifts her shirt up just enough to show her baby bump. A round of gasps and sounds of shock. Solana rubs her belly in a small circle, a small smile falling on her face. “I’m almost four months.”

But, while pride fills Solana thinking about her baby growing inside of her, terror and horror is struck amongst her family.

“What the hell, Solana?” Harris, her second oldest brother, has an expression of ardent disapproval. “How the hell did you get yourself knocked up?”

Zuri scoffs. “I think we know the answer to that, H.” Solana sits down, suddenly uncomfortable with sharing her exposed stomach with such a judgmental crowd. “I think a better question is why.”

“I agree,” Darnell, Solana’s father, speaks for the first time. His gaze is stern and even. “Solana, you just started that job not even a year ago, and already you’re pregnant?”

It’s then Solana drops another bombshell, attention on the now cold plate of unfinished food. “I quit.”

Another round of gasps and sounds of disapproval.

“What do you mean you quit, Solana?” Nina questions, sitting forward at the table. She shakes her head. “That was a good job you had. A good paying, stable job, honey.”

Solana doesn’t necessarily disagree, but the point she’s about to make made the most sense given her situation. “The baby’s father and I agreed it wasn’t safe for me to be working there while pregnant.”

“And just who is the father, huh?” DJ presses, though it feels more like a demand than anything. “And how long have ya’ll even been dating or screwing or whatever for you to let him get you pregnant in the first place?”

Solana knew she wasn’t going to be met with overall enjoyment. Almost all of her siblings had their children out of wedlock, and though her parents never outright said it, she’s always known their hope was she wouldn’t fall in line.

That she’d stick with that outdated, traditional timeline of dating, marriage, and a baby.

All things she’s achieved, just not in that order, per se.

However, their tumultuousness from just the first part of her news has her even more nervous about how they’re going to react to this next part.

Regardless, it needs to be done.

She clears her throat. “His name is Roman.” Another deep breath. “Roman Reigns.”

Silence.

More silence.

And then….then laughter.

Around her, Solana looks to see every member of her family with amused smiles on their face, oblivious laughter leaving their mouths.

“Lil' girl, you almost got us there.” Her dad chuckles. “Roman Reigns? That’s a good one.”

However, it’s her mom who detects that Solana remains with the same neutral, almost nervous expression that she’s had since first making her shocking announcement, and it’s that unchanging piece that allows the rest to come together.

“Oh my God….” She gasps, grabbing her husband’s hand, forcing him to look at her. “She’s serious.”

And, that statement from the matriarch transcends around the table, bringing on the clearly uncomfortable truth.

And the judgmental, floored stares have returned with a newfound intensity.

“Roman Reigns?” Comes from Zuri who’s no longer annoyed. She’s pissed. “What the fuck do you mean Roman Reigns is the father?”

“Solana, do you know who that man is?” DJ asks, like she’s stupid. Like she’s some illiterate child who needs to be educated. “He’s a fucking mafia kingpin.”

“He’s a murderer.”

“A monster.”

More hurtful, judgmental adjectives used to describe the man Solana loves more than anything in this word.

“How did you even me—” Her father starts to ask, but Solana watches him. Watches as the horrifying reality sets into him. “Solana, tell me you didn’t.” She looks away, tears suddenly burning her eyes. “Tell me you weren’t sleeping with that man while he was in the prison where you worked.”

More gasps.

Silence from Solana.

She can’t and won’t deny the truth.

“I love him,” is all the response she can muster. She hates how weak and soft her voice sounds. “And—and he loves me. We’re…we’re in love.”

A loud bang on the table startles her. Solana looks up to see her father as the source as he stands from where he was previously sitting. “He’s not capable of love, Solana! He’s a fucking sociopath, and I can’t believe you could be so naive to fall for his bullshit!”

“Darnell, please.” Nina also stands up, placing her hand on his arm. A comforting act to hopefully help calm him down. “Sweetie—”

“Why haven’t you aborted it yet?” Zuri suddenly asks the question Solana should have expected but wasn’t necessarily anticipating.

Her hand moves back to her stomach. “What?”

“You can’t keep that thing,” she sneers. “It’ll probably end up being the next Ted Bundy or some shit.”

“Zuri,” Isabella says in a soft voice. Solana senses some level of sympathy from her family. She casts Solana an almost empathetic glance.

“Zuri’s right,” Harris scoffs. “Why the hell would you want to have a fucking psychopath’s baby?”

“He’s not a psychopath,” Solana defends. For the first time in this whole shitshow of an announcement, she feels a new emotion. Defensiveness.

She feels defensive over her lover. Over the father of her child. Over the man she loves.

“You don’t know him,” she continues.

“No, you don’t know him,” Darnell snaps, pointing his finger at her. “Solana, I’ve spent my entire career putting scum like him behind bars. But, you know what I’ve had to do more of? Investigate and clean up all the murders he’s committed over the years.” She looks away, unable to withstand his disgusted expression. “Do you have any idea how many bodies—body parts—he’s left scattered around this city? He’s not even human, because no human being could do the things he’s done.”

This kind of response, specifically from her dad, was something she did sort of anticipate. It made sense. The police chief’s daughter falling in love with a mafia kingpin who’s been a thorn in his side for 20+ years?

It only made sense.

“I wasn’t….” Solana speaks again, needing to somehow wrap this up. She’s not sure how much more she can take. “I wasn’t expecting any of you to understand or even agree with the decisions I’ve made, and that—that’s okay.” Her voice cracks at the end, giving away the fact that it’s most definitely not okay. From feeling forgotten by her family her whole life, to now being shunned and judged so harshly, it’s a borderline traumatic experience. “I just—I just wanted to let you all know, because we’re going out of town for a little while, so—”

“You’re what?” Darnell interrupts. “The hell you are. You’re not anywhere with that damn man!”

At that, Solana’s defensiveness returns just a bit. “I’m not a child anymore. You can’t—”

“Maybe not, but you are fucking stupid.” DJ scoffs, also now standing, his arms crossed, largely reflecting their father, the man he was named after. “It’s bad enough you let that man impregnate you, but now you're talking about going away with him? To where?”

She swallows. “He owns a private island—”

“Great, so he can kill you and scatter what remains in the ocean in the middle of fucking nowhere.” Zuri smiles, rubbing her temples, shooting Solana a wink. “Great fucking idea, lil’ sis.”

“Roman would never hurt me or our baby—”

“Solana….” Nina speaks, her voice surprisingly soft. “Did he…did he force himself on you?” A heartbreaking, almost horrified question that has Solana’s eyes widening.

“No! He’s not like that!”

“That’s exactly what he’s like!”

“It’s like he’s….brainwashed you or something.” Nina whispers, eyes glossing over. “Oh, mija, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“You’re terminating that pregnancy first thing tomorrow, Solana.”

“No, I’m not.” She shakes her head, both hands planted on her stomach. “This is my baby. It’s our baby, and I’m not getting rid of it! We—we were trying to get pregnant. We—wanted to have him. We want—”

“Him?”

Solana closes her eyes.

Shit.

She hadn’t meant to disclose that part.

“It’s a boy?” Isabella whispers, looking over at Zuri.

“You definitely have to get rid of it, then!”

“Of course, she is.”

“No, I’m not,” Solana reiterates, sitting forward in her chair, starting to push back in her chair. “This is my body. My choice. My pregnancy, and my baby that I am keeping.”

“Solana, you’ve already been stupid enough to ruin your whole life and reputation by breaking not only rules but laws by getting caught up with that man,” Darnell dismisses her wishes. Completely washes over her sounds of protest. “Don’t further that stupid by tying yourself down to that thug for the next 18 years.” Another level of disgust and disdain mars his aged face. “Having a baby for a man ten years your senior is one thing, but having a baby for that man is something entirely different.” He shakes his head. “You’re not keeping it.”

It’s probably the culmination of the conversation as a whole that pushes Solana over the edge. Has her slamming her hand down on the table, forcing the surprise and focus of her family around her. “I’m keeping my baby, and that’s that!” Completely done with being attacked and slammed beyond a hurtful response, Solana stands up from the table. “I’m leaving.”

“Sweetie, please, don’t leave,” Nina implores, starting to round the table, stopping about halfway. As if feeling uncomfortable being too close to her. It stings. For sure. “We need to figure this out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Zuri cuts through, taking the side of her dad and siblings. “Either she gets rid of it or—”

“Or what?” Solana presses. “I said I’m keeping my baby.” Not only is that something Solana could never personally see herself doing, though she supports any and all women who make that choice, she knows that she’s too far along in her pregnancy to go about it, at least in their state, even if she wanted to. Knows as someone who’s in the medical field. The same field her mom and sister are in, so them not saying anything to express disagreement with such a thing being suggested is….hurtful, to say the least.

“Solana Esmeralda Miller.” Her father’s use of her full name stalls Solana as she reaches for her purse, back towards her family who continue to throw insult after insult at her, ruining what should be a beautiful time in her life all because they don’t understand. They don’t want to understand. “As long as you are with that man, you aren’t welcome in this house.”

Solana doesn’t have to be facing the group to know it’s her mom that gasps. “Darnell, please, she’s still our daughter—”

“My daughter would never get herself caught up in some foolishness like this!”

“She needs our support right now!”

“She needs to stop being so damn dumb!”

“So let’s help her, not persecute her!”

Solana’s eyes shut. Too much. It’s all too much.

“Would you all just shut up!” Solana turns around and snaps, unable to keep the reins on her emotions any longer. “Stop acting like you all care!” Because they don’t. Their entire disposition and response thus far have concerned just as much. “For years, years, I’ve felt invisible in this family. It never mattered how good I did, how unproblematic I was, I always came last.”

Nina’s shoulders drop. “Honey….”

Solana shakes her head. “Roman loves me. He makes me feel special and wanted, and…I need that. I’ve needed that for so long, and now I finally have it, and I’m not going to let any of you take that away from me.” She sniffles. “I’m not going to let anyone take him away from me.”

But while there’s a sort of relief that comes from speaking her mind, sharing with them trauma she’s sat on for so long, the relief is quickly snatched away through her father’s emotionless response.

“So that’s what it was? That’s how easy you were for him?” He sneers. “He shows you a little bit of attention, and you go opening up your legs?”

“Daddy, stop,” Isabella murmurs, continuing to look empathetic but not really doing anything to speak up for her sister. To defend her.

“I’m done here,” Solana angrily jerks her body away as her mother tries to reach for her. “None of you will ever have a relationship with my child.” And with a heartbreaking realization, she shares the part she feared the most. “And I may not, either.”

—------------

That’s how many people Roman kills.

All fuckers who’d betrayed him or played a role in the plot that got him locked up for all those months. Slowly, methodically, and with great detail and precision. He ensures to prolong their suffering for as long as humanly possible.

And, even that, even being practically bathed in their blood, in human flesh, pieced of severed organs and other grisly remnants of his butchering, does little to settle him. To settle that uncontrollable rage that influenced the gruesome murders.

Because, the people he really wants to hurt are the people he can’t touch. Solana’s family.

Her mother.

Her two sisters and two brothers.

Her fucking father.

Chief Miller has always been a fucking pain in the ass, but this incident has crossed a fucking line. Roman coming home to find his wife sitting on the floor. At the edge of the bed. Crying her eyes out because of how awful they all responded to her pregnancy announcement, about her relationship with him. The only thing he could do after comforting her and soothing her to sleep, was commit murder. But, he couldn't have the victims he really wanted.

Because his wife is kind and good, the things he is not. She doesn’t want them dead. He might, but she doesn’t. And, she doesn’t even have to specify as such, because that’s just not Solana.

She’d rather take it all on the chin and eventually work and move past it.

Not Roman.

Fuck that.

In his eyes, they all deserve to fucking burn.

But, as much as they hurt Solana, Roman knows she still loves them. She loves her family, and that’s why their reaction hurt her so much. Because while he knows a part of her knew they wouldn’t respond well, he also knows that she was hoping maybe, just maybe, they would be a little understanding.

He knew better though.

He knew they wouldn’t react well, but for the fucking Hallmark type people they tried to portray themselves to be, he didn’t anticipate they’d be so cruel to Solana.

His pretty girl.

It’s why he partially wishes he’d gone with her.

The same way he wants to go with her now.

“Solana, are you sure this is a good idea?”

She turns around from where she just placed another bathing suit in their suitcase. He’s not sure why she’s packing clothes at all. He doesn’t plan for them to do anything but fuck, relax, and enjoy each other for the next two weeks.

She sighs, walking over, Roman unable to resist a chance to glance at her stomach. The fabric of her dress falls perfectly against the swell of her bump.

Their baby.

His son.

Solana moves in front of him, hands on his chest as he holds her, kissing her temple. “I have to try.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t agree. After the shit they pulled last week, her piece of shit family deserves nothing from her, let alone another chance.

But, he loves her and respects her, so he has to respect her decision.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Largely due to him wanting to be the much needed buffer if anything goes left. Also because he wants to be there to support her.

However, she shakes her head, pulling back to look up at him. “I—I think it might make it worse.”

He’s quiet, once again, because she’s probably not wrong. As much as Roman loves the woman in front of him, he’s not sure he’d be able to control his temper if her dad and/or brothers were to say some shit. Doesn’t know if he’d be able to end the night without dropping at least one of them.

He nods, hand moving up and down her back. “Fine, but at least take your security detail, Sol.”

That’s the thing that he really still isn’t okay with. He understands why she didn’t want them with her before, because she wasn’t ready to tell her family about them, but now that they know? He’s highly uncomfortable with her going over there completely alone.

“Roman….”

“Solana, it’s for your protection.” Not even just her. Their unborn child as well.

“My family is being mean and unsupportive, but they would never hurt me, Roman.” He can see the way she catches herself, forcing a correction. “Not physically, anyway.”

Roman wants to believe her. He truly does, but something feels off. He can’t put his hand on it. “Solana, I—”

“Trust me,” she interrupts in a small voice, her eyes pleading. “Please?” He does. Probably more than what defies logic. “I won’t be long, and it’s just my parents who want to meet and talk. Not my siblings. Not yet, at least.” That helps him feel a little better. Only a little. “Roman, I—I won’t be able to enjoy this trip without at least hearing them out.”

Roman takes a deep, loud breath, rolling his neck and stroking his beard. Going against his better judgment seems like the wrong move, but there’s something that bothers him more about depriving her of this.

“Alright,” he finally caves, adding a stipulation. “An hour. You have an hour, and after that, I’m coming to get you.”

She nods. “Okay.” Solana leans up and kisses his cheek. “Thank you.”

Roman says nothing, just watches as she continues to pack, wanting to have it all done tonight, as they’re set to board the jet and fly out tomorrow.

All the while, he still can’t manage to shake the feeling that something is wrong.

—--------

True to their word, it’s only Solana’s parents when she arrives at their house.

And, it’s not that she believed they were lying, per se. She just didn’t know if they thought she wouldn’t agree to come over if she knew it would be an intervention of sorts involving her siblings.

They wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

Solana settles on her parents sofa, shifting to get comfortable as her father sits in his seat across from her. He’s yet to say anything.

Nina wears a warm smile as she walks in from the kitchen with a tea kettle. “I made you some raspberry leaf tea.” She pours some in the mug sitting and waiting on the coffee table. “Your abuela used to make it for me when I was pregnant with you all.”

The mention of Solana’s late grandmother is enough in and of itself to evoke a set of fresh tears.

Paloma would be turning over in her grave to know what’s happening within the family. She never liked or approved of dissension. Especially among family.

Solana says nothing, just takes the cup and brings it to her mouth. The flavor feels a bit off than how she remembers it tasting, but her taste buds altogether have been off this pregnancy, so she doesn’t think much of it.

“Solana, we want to apologize to you.”

Nina kicking off the conversation with that as she takes a seat next to her daughter is most definitely not how Solana predicted this whole thing kicking off. Naturally, she’s skeptical.

“What?”

Darnell’s deep voice takes over. “We feel….we feel we may have been too hard on you.” Solana continues to sip on her tea, eager, wanting, and maybe needing a reason to not respond. She’s not entirely sure what she expected from this conversation, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Oh,” she finally mumurs, nervously tapping her short acrylic nails against the glass mug.

“I’m sorry about how I spoke to you, Solana,” he apologizes. Solana places the mug down, wanting and needing to be fully present for whatever else he’s about to say. “I—I was out of line, and I was upset, but that gives me no excuse. It’s just….” He trails off, looking away, fist gently hitting his lap. “Of all our children, with all the issues your siblings have had over the years, we never would have suspected you.”

And, that is where Solana gets lost.

Suspected what?

She voices as such.

“I—I don’t understand.” She honestly, truly doesn’t. “What—what are you talking about?”

Darnell looks at her. Voice even and calm as all the outdoors. “We never would have suspected you also struggle with mental health issues.”

Solana’s eyes widen.

What?

Barely able to process what’s just been implied, she finds herself scoffing. “I—” Solana looks between them, between her parents who have turned what she hoped would be a calm conversation into something entirely different. “You—you think I’m crazy?” The silence is all the answer needed. Solana shakes her head. “I’m not crazy. I’m in love. Why can’t you guys understand that?”

“Sweetie….” Nina leans over, placing her hands over Solana’s. “We—we realize now that we should have been paying closer attention to you over the years.” Solana blinks twice, suddenly struggling to focus on the conversation at hand. “That….that Zuri wasn’t the only one who needed help.”

It’s only when that is said, and Solana looks over at her father who only raises his chin, she realizes that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

A horrified look between the two people who swore to love and protect her. “What—what have you done?”

Solana goes to stand up, only to be hit with another unexpected wave that has her almost stumbling to the ground.

“You’re not well, Solana. You need help.” Her father’s voice sounds much too distant for a man who’s only steps away from her. “And, we’re going to make sure you get it.”

Blinking increased, Solana again attempts to walk away, only to fall to her knees, her hand planted down on the rug to prevent her from landing on her stomach. A glance back at the table where the mug sits, mostly entirely consumed.

Terror fills her.

“What—” Solana moves her other hand to her belly. Speech is now another thing that feels impaired. “What did you do to me? What—what did you put—” Eyes clenching shut, breathing has been added to the list, though she’d suspect it’s from her anxiety versus whatever was placed in the tea. “My baby….”

Because, that’s the only thing she can think about in this moment.

About whatever she’s just ingested could be doing to her baby.

She has to get out of here.

But, the second Solana attempts to move up to her feet, she falls to the floor, on her side, hand never leaving her belly.

Distant sounds around her followed by several sets of feet. Three new people. All men. Two dressed in all white apparel. Familiar. But not as familiar as the third man with them. Even with her waning vision, Solana can make out the man dressed in a fine suit, expensive glasses on his face, dark brown hair carefully styled, that empty, void, deranged expression in his eyes as he looks down at her with only cruel, unholy thoughts.

Crane.

Dr. Jonathan Crane.

A local doctor who bounced around from clinic to clinic for years, unable to find anyone willing to support his inhumane research. That was until a few years ago when he landed his current position. The lead psychiatrist at the local insane asylum.

Rumors have ran rampant for years about his sick, twisted, unsanctioned treatment methods for the unwell at the asylum.

A place that should be burned to the ground, if you ask Solana.

With him in it, because the devil doesn’t always come clothed in red horns and a matching cape. He sometimes wears designer shoes and parades himself as a medical provider eager to “cure” the sick.

A sociopath.

He’s the real sociopath.

And, her parents are handing her right over to him.

Tears fill her eyes. “No…..”

“Don’t worry, Ms. Miller.” Another distant declaration from the devil himself followed by him kneeling before her, his smile just a show for all of his wicked, twisted perversions. “I know exactly what you need.”

Solana opens her mouth to protest, any and all sensation and autonomy in her body all but gone.

A final act of protest, but it’s a failed effort.

It all goes dark.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #arisnotebook

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baseonezero · 27 days ago

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𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: ricky x fem!reader

warnings: adultery, raw p in v, degradation, choking

wc: ~1.1k

a/n: wrote this a good while ago and barely did any proofreading :(

trying to leave your work building as soon as you can for your lunch break, you quickly walked down the hall, your steps being heard in the quietness.

you thought you felt something in your heel so you moved to one side of the hallway, leaning against the wall as you removed your heel and flipped it over, trying to get rid of whatever was inside it.

you hurriedly slipped your heel back on but right before you could get back to walking, you were pulled through the door right by where you had stood, your mouth and eyes being covered.

you struggled against the strong grip only for you to hear a voice you were too familiar with. "caught ya,” he whispered into your ear, his hand easing off of your eyes and mouth.

“ricky, just what are you doing?” your eyes having no trouble adjusting to the dim lights, looking at the janitor supplies in the small space you two were in.

a scoff left his mouth before grabbing a handful of your hair, pushing you down your knees and bringing your face to his crotch. “what am i doing?”

he shoved and moved your head around his bulge, tugging at your hair harshly. “did you actually think you would get away with sending me photos like that at work? hm?”

your hands landed onto his thighs, trying to push him away. “it was an accident,” you retorted.

he let out a huff, annoyance evident in the way he did so. he crouched down to be in level with your face, “yeah, right. accidentally sending nudes to my work email? you know just how easily my wife can access it. do you want to ruin my marriage? is that what you want from this?"

he pulled your head back and you yelped, your eyes shutting.

“you wanna act like such a slut but when it comes down to it, you wanna back out.” he snarled, standing up straight and using his free hand to lock the door of the closet. “now you’re gonna fix this— deal with the consequences.”

“stand up,” he spat as he pulled your hair up which caused you to stumble.

ricky undid his tie before wrapping it around your head, over your eyes.

you bit onto your bottom lip, feeling aroused by the situation. you knew you had it coming to you and you loved getting ricky mad.

your excitement could be felt against your heat. juices coating your core and dripping onto your thighs.

he roughly pushed you against the wall, making you grunt. you could hear him removing his belt and you immediately placed your hands behind your back, expectantly.

“tsk, whore.” ricky muttered as he worked the belt around your wrists, making sure it was tight and wouldn't get undone.

his fingers found their way to the bottom of your pencil skirt, slowly rolling it up to expose your bare cunt.

you shivered at the coolness of the air now that there was nothing covering you, goosebump covering your skin.

ricky laughed, slapping your ass. “holy shit, you really are a whore.”

you yelped once more and jolted into the wall, the sting of his force with the addition of his rings hurting you deliciously.

he pulled you back by the belt around your wrists, using your restrained hands to palm his clothed bulge. “how are you gonna fix this?” he hummed.

“my mouth..?” you suggested, earning a scoff.

“i wasn't actually asking you.” he pushed you back against the wall, holding onto your hip with a hand before smacking your ass over and over again, the slaps echoing off the walls of the small space.

a moan slipped out with every hit, pushing your ass out in hopes to meet his clothed erection, wanting nothing more but to take him in any of your holes at this point.

his hand then slid down the back of your thigh and to your sopping cunt, fingers sliding through your filth and circling your sweet bud.

your breath hitched at the feeling only to whine right after he took his fingers away, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. “as if i’d let you enjoy yourself,” he snarked but you could sense the smirk plastered on his lips.

a confused hum left your lips just before breathing in sharply, not having been mentally or physically prepared for ricky to ram his dick into you.

he let out a deep groan, hissing at the tightness of your cunt but he thrusted into you anyway, forcing you to take every single inch of him.

“wait ricky, it hurts!” you whined, trying to move away but he held onto your hips tightly—you were sure that it’d bruise later.

“nah, you’re gonna take me as is.” he fucked into you mercilessly, using you however he thought was fitting.

his hand gripped your neck, pulling you against him so that your back is pressed against his chest. he forced you to turn your head, his lips meeting yours in just a split second.

you moaned into the kiss, overwhelmed by the way he pounded into you and how hungrily he kissed you, his hand tightening around your neck. you couldn't breathe properly but god this was so hot. it’d probably make for a great porno.

he let of your neck, his hands now snaking down to your breast, giving it a squeeze before taking the bud of your nipple between his fingers. he flicked at it and pinched it, taking the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth once you gasped.

if it weren't for his mouth muffling your lewd moans, you two probably would've been caught by now. god forbid a janitor walks in and reports you two for having sex at work.

your knees began to buckle, feeling your climax inch closer. ricky caught onto this and pulled away from the kiss, pushing your chest to the wall as he held onto your hips, holding you up as he continued to rut into your pussy.

“i think ‘m gonna cum soon— mmgod..—” you bit at your lip a little too hard, tasting the bitterness of your blood.

“don’t you fucking dare. last thing i need you to do is get my pants dirty.” he pulled out, fisting his cock at your now empty cunt. "fucking whore," he mumbled, holding back his moans.

your cursed at the feeling of emptiness and lack of orgasm.

"shut your mouth, slut." he sighed before moaning, his seed shooting onto your ass and thighs. "holy fuck.." he groaned, milking himself dry.

once he fully finished, he zipped up his pants and buttoned it back up, taking his sweet time to remove the belt from your wrists and the tie from your eyes.

"stop sending shit to my phone. if i need you, i'll let you know." he spoke rather coldly, adjusting his tie.

he ran his fingers through his hair, shooting a glance at you as you cleaned yourself with the paper towels you found on the shelf of the room.

"meet me at my car after work. i'll buy you dinner since i took up your lunch time," his eyebrows rose a bit before he walked out of the janitor's closet, leaving you alone in there.

#zb1 hard hours #zb1 smut #zerobaseone hard hours #zerobaseone fanfic #zb1 fanfic #zb1 x reader #zb1 drabbles #zb1 ricky #ricky x reader #ricky smut #shen quanrui

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love-hs28 · 1 year ago

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You're the strongest person I've ever known.

Summary: JJ’s had another fight with his dad and needs some comfort and help cleaning up. CW: same stuff that’s in the show gn!reader Routledge!reader, but doesn't really effect the story Hurt/comfort & fluff 1.3k words Posted on: 5-24-24

a/n: This is my first post ever, lmk if you guys like it! Been wanting to start posting my stuff on here for a while and figured what better time to than now!

It’s almost 2 am when you hear a knocking on your window. You had been lying awake since you got home from the party and already know that it's JJ, so you get up to open it. You slide the glass open with a smile and he climbs in.

“Hey Jay,”

As he’s setting his foot down, he loses his balance a bit and you have to place your hands on his shoulders to steady him. It’s already obvious that he’s a bit drunk.

“Whoa, hey, careful,”

You hear him groan as he attempts to straighten up, and he hobbles over to flop down on your desk chair. You’re not new to this, and know what this behavior usually means.

“Had a fight with my dad. I’m fine. Just wanted to, uh, come over,” He groans again as he adjusts himself to sit more comfortably, and you sigh and come over to kneel in front of him.

You tilt your head down to get a better look at him, and gently put a hand on the side of his face to angle it towards the dim moonlight. The room is too dark for you to see any damage that’s been done, and he hisses at the contact.

“Shit, sorry,” You quickly take your hand away but he grabs it and holds it against his chest. He sets his forehead against yours and takes a deep breath, knowing what comes next.

“Can I see?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

He does a combination of shaking and nodding his head and reluctantly looks up, but avoids eye contact and looks just to the right of your face. There’s enough light on him now to see a black eye forming and the cuts on his lip and cheek.

You let out a shaky breath and squeeze his hand. It’s not hard to imagine what the rest of his body looks like.

“Oh, Jay,” you whisper, and he shakes his head and squeezes your hand back.

“I’m alright, y/n. Just a little roughed up. ‘s good for building character, right?” He laughs softly, but the tears in his eyes tell more than his words. You know he uses humor to cope, and your heart breaks at the sad smile on his face.

You stand up, not letting go of his hand, and lead him to your bathroom.

You softly pat the counter next to the sink as a signal for him to take a seat, and he does. You open the bathroom closet and grab the first aid kid, careful to keep quiet so as to not wake John B. You can see JJ watching you with a loving but tired look in his eyes that causes you to slightly blush.

As you’re setting up the supplies on the counter, he gently puts a hand to the side of your face, halting your movements. He smiles drunkenly and uses his other hand to brush the hair from your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your pajama shorts.

You smile and gently rub his thigh. You whisper back “So are you,” and gently kiss his less-hurt cheek and get back to setting up the supplies.

JJ starts swinging his feet, accidentally kicking the counter and earning a soft glare from you, which he just chuckles at.

“Yeah, but you’re beautifuler. Most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he sighs, still staring deep into your eyes, and you grab the alcohol and put some on a cotton ball.

“Oh, you’re too sweet” you say teasingly, and brush his hair out of his face. “Alright, this might sting a little. You can hold on to me if you want.”

JJ messily shakes his head, “‘s okay. I’m strong.”

You look into his eyes sadly with a little sad smile, “I know you are,” Regardless of his strength, he sets his hands on your waist preparing for the all too familiar pain.

You gently dab at the cuts on his cheek and lip and he hisses and closes his eyes, trying to act strong in front of you, but squeezing hard on your hips.

“I’m sorry honey, almost done,” You dab a few more times and wipe a few until it looks clean enough. You softly kiss his forehead and he rests it on your shoulder. His breathing feels heavy against you.

“You’re okay, Jay. You’re safe now, I’m right here. I got you,” You rub his back and he starts to cry a bit. He looks up at you with a shaky lip.

“I’m sorry. I hate that you have to see me like this. I just didn’t know where else to go.” His voice is shaking and your heart breaks as you shake your head and put a hand to his face to brush his hair.

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you came to me. Come to me everytime, please. Seeing you like this doesn’t make me think you’re weak. It makes me think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and I hate that you have to go through this shit.” A tear rolls down your cheek and he gently wipes it.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

Bitting your bottom lip between your teeth to stop it from shaking, you shake your head and look down to get the bandages. When you look back up at him he’s looking at you with so much emotion that you feel your heart skip a few beats.

“I love you.” He says, and pulls you in by your waist.

“I love you more” you whisper, and lean into him and hug him close, careful to avoid his abdomen, which you’re 99% sure is bruised.

You hug for a minute or two, giving you both the chance to calm your breathing, and you eventually lean back and quickly wipe your eyes.

You brush the hair out of his face again, “Let me get these bandages on you and then we can head to bed, yeah?”

He nods and lets his eyes fall shut, hands not leaving your waist. After covering up the cuts on his face, you look up at him reluctantly.

“Can I.. Could you lift up your shirt? I just want to make sure nothing else needs, um, tending to.”

He slowly nods and lifts his t-shirt up, exposing the bottom few inches of his torso. Your hand immediately comes up to cover your mouth and you choke in a sob as you see the bruises already beginning to form on his stomach. You can’t even begin to imagine how he must feel.

JJ shakes his head and uses his hand to gently guide you to look back into his eyes.

“Hey. No crying, remember? I’m okay, promise. They’ll be gone in a few days. Week tops. Nothin we can do about it, you know?”

You can't get your eyes to meet his, and bite your lip to stop it from shaking as he pulls you in for another hug. You grip onto his shirt for a minute, then he leans back to kiss you gently.

“You look tired. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

You shake your head and kiss his hand. “No, don’t be, I was awake when you got here, couldn’t sleep.”

JJ tilts his head with a concerned look. “Everything okay?”

You softly laugh and shake your head, setting your hands on his knees and looking into his eyes. “You’re sitting here on my sink all beaten up and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

He returns the soft laugh and rubs your cheek with his thumb.

“What did I do to deserve you,” you whisper as you look deep into his eyes and gently rub his leg. JJ looks at you like you’ve just said something crazy.

“You kidding? I should be the one asking that. I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re my everything. My best friend. My favorite person.”

You try harder not to cry, failing a bit, and moving the remaining few inches closer to rest your forehead on his, pressing a soft kiss to his cut lips.

You eventually have to put the first aid stuff away, and you take one more deep breath, smoothing your hair and wiping your eyes one last time.

“Alright, big guy, let’s get you to bed, okay?”

He nods as you hold his hand to guide him off the counter, the sleepiness beginning to set in for the both of you.

You head back to your room and help him get situated in bed, climbing in next to him, careful not to hurt him any further.

“I love you,” he whispers as he’s falling asleep.

“I love you more,” you whisper back, kissing his shoulder and finally letting the sleep overcome you, silently wishing that you'll wake up tomorrow and this will have all been a dream.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading!! Let me know what you think and if anything should be changed. I might upload some more in the future, depending on how this does! :)

Also lmk if I should change the POV, like if third person or first person would be better :) I will prob be coming back to edit this every now and then if I find something to change, which is very likely.

And PLEASE send in any requests if you have any!!

xoxo

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misfit0789 · 5 months ago

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Holidays from Hell

Alyssa Naeher x Reader

Summary: Alyssa and R's Christmas is crashed by R's family. It doesn't end well.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Nose bleed, emotionally/mentally abusive family, hurt/comfort, homophobic comments

This has been done for a couple of months, and I wasn't planning on posting it just yet, but since Uncle is officially retired from the national team, I thought there was no better time to post it! Hope you enjoy!

I slowly open my eyes to adjust to the morning light peaking in through the blinds. I stretch as best as I can

with one arm under my partner of 4 years. I feel her start to stir as I cuddle back into her from behind.

"Merry Christmas baby," I whisper into her ear as I press a kiss just behind it. She turns in my arms to look me in my eyes, before she presses a kiss to my lips. I relax into the kiss savoring it knowing we will face chaos shortly.

"Merry Christmas my love, are you ready to see your mom?" She asks her left hand coming up to cup my cheek. I sigh and lean into her touch.

"I don't think I will ever be ready to face her. It was a lot easier to ignore her when I moved out and could put the blame on practice and other stuff. But when she shows up on my door step 2 days before Christmas demanding to spend the holidays with us I'm not sure I can ignore her then. I'm pissed that she ruined our plans though. I was so excited to spend the holidays with your family. I was looking forward to seeing them all." I take a deep breath to try and get my emotions under control. She gives me a soft smile before she leans in and places another kiss on my lips.

"We will power through this together. Besides my sister will be here this afternoon to help prepare dinner before my parents arrive at 5. We only have a couple hours of your mom alone today. We can do it." She says, I give her a small nod and one more kiss before moving the blanket to the side. Knowing my mother she will find some way to fuck this up just as she has everything else in my life.

I stand and stretch before making my way to our ensuite bathroom to do my morning routine. Alyssa not far behind. As we make eye contact through the mirror I pull a funny face with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth causing her to laugh. I smile at the sound as we both finish our routines before returning to our bedroom to get dressed.

"Remind me why I let you talk me into matching sweaters?" Alyssa sighs. I give her a smile before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Because you love me, and because you are stuck with me for the rest of your life and you know better than to argue." I give her a cheeky smile before pressing one last kiss to her cheek as she rolls her eyes. I stand in front of our closed bedroom door and take a deep breath as I reach for the door knob. Just before I can open the door though it flies open smacking me right in the nose.

"Shit!"

"Oh my god! Y/n! Are you okay?" Alyssa runs over to check my nose. I tilt my head back to help control the bleeding. I peak one eye open and see my mom standing there.

"Oh please, you are fine. Allyson there is no need to worry over her. She will live. Now what is for breakfast? I am starved. You'd think it's our first Christmas together in years and-"

"Mom! First off her name is Alyssa, second you invited yourself here. There is no reason for you to barge into our bedroom demanding food. It will be ready when it is ready. Go sit in the living room. We are doing gifts before food anyway." I say before taking another deep breath, moving to the bathroom to get a tissue to plug up the bleeding. I can feel Alyssa following behind me.

"Are you okay love?" I sigh and give her a nod before starting to clean up the blood from my face.

"I've had to experience her like this before. It's nothing new unfortunately. I'm just happy we were dressed. She once did that and acted that way to an me and an ex. Let's just say that ex and I were over by that night. I'm just happy you stuck around after your first go around with her." She gives me a soft smile and presses a kiss to my cheek. Taking the towel from my hands to help me clean up. She steps in front of me and leans her back on the bathroom counter. My hands move to rest on her waist.

"That's why I said 'I do' when you put this on my finger." She holds up her left hand showcasing her wedding ring. I look at her with what I know is a love filled look.

"And I would ask you all over again in every lifetime." She gives me a smile and continues to clean up my face. "Besides at least she didn't ruin my sweater," I give her a cheeky smile before she leans up pressing a kiss to my lips. "I love you,"

"I love you too, now lets go get this over with before she comes back in here and does worse than bruise your nose." I laugh and nod taking a step back from her so she can throw the towel in the laundry.

We walk out of our room and make our way to the steps, though I stop when I hear more than my moms voice in my living room. A voice that haunted every memory from my childhood since the day she could talk.

"She did not," I whisper. Alyssa looks at me confused. "Looks like you are about to meet the favorite child that you've been lucky enough to avoid. Her and mom together are never good." She widens her eyes in surprise.

"Don't tell me your sister is here," I sigh and give her a nod. "Why is she in our house? We did not invite her!" She whisper shouts.

"We may not have but mom certainly did. I didn't even think she lived near Chicago!" I whisper back. "Text your sister and parents to warn them. Nothing good ever comes from those two being in the same place." The day has barely started and I can already feel the headache and its not the one from a door being smashed into my face either.

"Okay, Amanda and my parents have been warned. Amanda is coming by earlier. So are my parents they said they'll be here around 4 instead of 5. They've heard the stories of your mom and sister and don't want anything bad to happen." Alyssa whispers pocketing her phone. I nod before taking a deep breath.

"Let's get this over with." She presses a kiss to my lips before giving me a nod. I give her a smile and make my way down the stairs.

"Finally, we are starving. What took you and Allyson so long? And why is your face so red?" My sister asks once Alyssa and I make it around the corner.

"I already told mom. Food is after gifts and it's Alyssa not Allyson. Her and I have been together for four years you both know this. Mom opened our bedroom door smacking me in the face. Thanks for the concern." I end sarcastically. I feel Alyssa's hand on my back. I relax at her touch before reluctantly stepping away to start making Alyssa's coffee. I move towards the hooks on the wall we keep our mugs on stopping when my mom speaks.

"There's no need to do gifts." My mom says. I slowly turn towards her a confused look on my face.

"And why is that? It is Christmas is it not?" I ask giving my mother a sarcastic look.

"Well yeah but your sister and I have already exchanged gifts. There isn't anything else to give out." I look at her dumbfounded.

"What about Alyssa and I? You didn't get us anything?" I'm honestly not surprised, mom and Heather have already exchanged gifts. They did this all the time growing up. Heather would throw a fit so mom would give her all my gifts to placate her. I enjoyed the Christmas' I've been able to spend with Alyssa and her family as I finally got to feel the love of a family.

"Uhh, nope." Mom says turning to look at what Heather was showing her on her phone. I make eye contact with Heather over mom's head to see her smirking at me. I roll my eyes and flip her off with my own sarcastic smile before quickly looking to Alyssa.

"If your sister doesn’t hurry up she will have to drive you to the jailhouse to bail me out for killing them." I whisper. She chuckles and nods before giving my shoulder a squeeze in reassurance.

When it's just Alyssa and I we are very touchy and loving to each other. We even show some PDA with her family as we are comfortable with them. My 'family' and anyone else, even her teammates, we are less touchy. Both our love languages include physical touch so we are more lowkey with them. Instead of hugs, kissing and handholding, we usually interlock our pinkies.

"I already texted her. She's on her way my love." She whispers back. I give her a nod before reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I need a bit more than linking pinkies right now," I breath out. She nods leaning up to press a quick kiss to my temple. I release her hand and quickly move about the kitchen to finish up making her coffee while she works on my hot cocoa as I was never a coffee drinker.

As we work I can feel her hands brushing against me from time to time as she moves around the kitchen from the kettle on the stove for the hot water and the fridge for the whipped cream. I relax knowing she has no other motives than to keep me calm and from hurting my mother and sister.

~~~~~

"I'm here and I brought donuts." I let out a breath of relief before standing from my seat next to Alyssa at the kitchen island and turning in my spot to greet Amanda.

"I can't thank you enough for coming over sooner. It's been a nightmare already." Amanda waves me off moving to set the donuts on the counter in front of Alyssa who opens the box and grabs one, before Amanda is turning to give me a hug. I relax into it knowing Alyssa and I won't have to fend the demons off alone. She pulls back and cups my face in her hands slowly moving my head around as she looks at my red nose.

"Don't sweat it. Lyss explained it all. I had to get here before you killed them. Although they did a number on your nose. Have you iced it yet? You don't want it to swell." Just before I can respond my mom and sister walk in.

"Oh hello, who are you? You look like Allyson but she's sitting at the counter with - ooh donuts!" My mom is cut off by Heather pushing Alyssa to the side to grab the box from in front of her. I reach out and catch Alyssa before she can hit the floor.

"Hey! Watch it Heather! This is Amanda, Alyssa's twin sister. She's here to help cook dinner. Alyssa and Amanda's parents will be here at 4 for Christmas dinner. If you two aren't going to help please leave the kitchen." I let Alyssa sit in the seat I was previously in before moving towards the fridge to start grabbing ingredients for dinner.

"But-" My mom is cut off as Alyssa shoves the box of donuts, more so what's left that Heather hasn't eaten, into mom's hands. Mom and Heather share a look before leaving the kitchen.

"I'm sorry about the donuts but I will make you whatever you want for breakfast. I just needed to get them out of here before Y/n killed them. Her and her twin are nothing like us. They have competed all their lives, they will kill each other." Alyssa explains. Amanda nods in understanding.

"Don't worry about it Lys. I can tell from that interaction just how bad things can be for Y/n. I mean you two have been together for 4 years and they still don't even know your name." I roll my eyes setting the armful of veggies down before leaning on the counter.

"I still don't understand why they showed up here. I haven't spoken to mom or Heather for over a year. Hell they don't even know Alyssa and I got married!" I whisper to Alyssa and Amanda, knowing my mom and Heather are listening. They could never mind their own business growing up. "I know that day was ten times better because of them not being there. There is no way for Heather to ruin the day if she doesn’t know it even happened," Alyssa and Amanda laugh at my words.

"I know, and it was the best day of my life," Alyssa whispers moving over to me and pressing a kiss to my lips, her arms moving around my neck as my hands move to grip her waist. I smile into the kiss relaxing for the first time today since I woke up with my wife in my arms.

"Okay I get it you two are in love. Can we please start on dinner?" Amanda asks, the disgust clear in her voice. I reluctantly pull away from my wife leaving one hand on her hip, and turn to my sister-in-law.

"Fine," I fully pull away from Alyssa and move towards the knife block on the counter, grabbing a knife to cut the veggies.

Alyssa, Amanda and I work together in the kitchen to get dinner sorted and ready to be put in the oven for when their parents arrive. Thankfully mom and Heather seem to steer clear of the kitchen.

~~~

Just as I set the last tray in the oven for dinner the doorbell goes off. I turn to look at Amanda and Alyssa who are working together on cleaning up the dishes we used when cooking.

"I'll be back," I say before walking towards the front door, but Heather had beat me to it.

"Who are you?" She asks with a bitchy tone. I roll my eyes placing a hand on her shoulder pushing her to the side.

"These are Alyssa and Amanda's parents. They're here for dinner," I say looking at Heather, before turning to my in-laws with a smile. "Hi Donna and John. Merry Christmas!" I move toward Donna to give her a hug, as we pull back I press a kiss to her cheek and turn to John holding my hand out for him to shake. He shakes his head chuckling.

"Your family now Y/n come here," He reaches out pulling me into a hug. I laugh and return the hug, patting his back before pulling away.

"Oh honey what happened to your face? Your nose is all bruised." Donna says.

"Had a disagreement with a door this morning," I supply, "Mom barged into Alyssa and I's room this morning demanding food. She hit me in the face with the door when she came in,"

"Oh sweetheart! You need to ice that!" She exclaims.

"Your daughters have been helping me cook dinner all morning, they've been helping while I ice on and off for 20 minutes at a time. Is Abigail not coming?" I question noticing the absence of my wife's youngest sister. John shakes his head.

"Her and the kids are with Abby's husbands family this year they did send us with the gift for you and Alyssa though!" John says gesturing to the boxes he's holding in his hands. I chuckle and help him with the boxes before turning and leading them into the house.

"May I?" I ask gesturing to their coats once I had set the gifts by the tree next to the front windows. Donna nods and turns allowing me to help her remove her coat before hanging it on the coat rack by the door. I take John's from his hand and hang it next to his wife's.

"Thank you Y/n. I knew Alyssa did right by choosing you," Donna chuckles. Her husband nodding in agreement. I laugh along with them before leading them to the kitchen, but of course we're stopped before we make it there. This time by mom.

"Oh hello! And who might you be?" She asks. I can tell by her tone of voice she doesn't actually care who they are, she's just nosey.

"Mom, these are Alyssa's parents Donna and John. Donna, John this is my mom Y/m/n." I introduce them.

"Nice to meet you!" Donna says holding her hand out. My mom hums looking at Donna's hand in disgust before turning and walking towards the couch where Heather is sitting, some Christmas movie on the TV. I roll my eyes leading Donna and John to the kitchen where their daughters are.

"Remember at the wedding you had asked why my family wasn't there?" I whisper to the two. I glance back seeing them nod. "That's why. None of them care for me, they would have made the day hell. I'm glad they weren't there." I say once we were in the kitchen. Amanda and Alyssa look up from where they are drying dishes, eyes lighting up when they see their parents. They set down the dishes and rags before moving to greet their parents. I stand off to the side letting the family talk, getting lost in my thoughts.

Why can't my family be like that?

"Babe?" I jump feeling Alyssa's hand on my arm.

"Sorry, what?" I ask, she gives me a soft smile bringing her hand from my arm to rest on my cheek. I sigh and lean into her hand relishing in the comfort she provides.

"You zoned out on us. Are you okay?" She asks brushing her thumb along my cheekbone. I bring my hand up resting it over hers, rubbing my thumb along the back of her hand.

"Yeah, just wish we didn't have the holiday crashers here. I was looking forward to a holiday with just us and your family." I press a kiss to her forehead pulling back to rest our foreheads together.

"Our family," She whispers into the air between us, "They became yours too the day we said 'I do'. Those crashers will not ruin our first Christmas married, Amanda and my parents won't let them," She says pressing a kiss to my lips, "I won't let them," I give her a smile and nod, pressing another kiss to her lips before turning to see her parents and Amanda talking but glancing at us every so often. I turn back to Alyssa looking into her eyes.

"I love you," I say. She smiles pressing another kiss to my lips sensing I need the comfort.

"I love you too. Now lets go enjoy our first Christmas as a married couple," I nod taking her hand from my cheek and intertwining our fingers, before letting her lead us to the island where her-our family is sitting.

"Oh Y/n! Alyssa was telling us that your getting ready to publish your new book. It's the next one in the Awaken series right?" John asks. I smile and nod.

"Yea, the detectives story isn't over yet. Alyssa has been a big help with the details and helping me work through the story line. I think I have at least two more books worth of ideas." I say happy to finally be able to talk about my writing with people other than Alyssa and her team. Those girls are obsessed with the series and keep asking for spoilers.

"Oh that's so exciting! What is the publish date? I want to be sure to get a copy before they sell out!" Donna asks. I move from my spot next to Alyssa to grab the 3 of bags from the counter.

"For you guys? Now," I say handing them each a bag before moving back to Alyssa, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Wait? Really?" Amanda asks in shock, pulling out her copy of the book. Donna and John doing the same giving me a questioning look.

"Yeah, I had asked the published for a few copies before they hit the shelves in the new year. I wanted my family to have the first copies." I shrug as if it were no big deal.

"Aww thank you! I look forward to reading it!" Donna says setting the book on the counter before moving around it to pull me into a hug. I remove my arm from Alyssa to be able to return the gesture. Donna pulls away and cups my face in her hands looking into my eyes. "I'm proud of you. You've accomplished so much since Alyssa first introduced you to us 4 years ago." I try and blink away the tears ultimately failing. "Oh honey," Donna whispers pulling me into another hug. I feel three more sets of arms around us, without having to look I can tell it's Alyssa, Amanda and John. We stand there for a few minutes before breaking apart at the sound of the doorbell. I turn to Alyssa confused.

"Did you invite anyone else?" I ask, she shakes her head in response.

"No, everyone we invited is here," she says returning the confused look. I excuse myself from them before making my way to the front door. But of course mom is already there. I look at her confused when she turns around with a pizza box in her hands, after shutting the door.

"What's with the pizza? Dinner is almost done," I question. She shrugs handing me something before moving towards the couch, setting the box on the coffee table and sitting next to Heather. I take a deep breath seeing my wallet. I open it and see the cash I had in there gone. "Why do you have my wallet? This was upstairs in my room." I continue to question.

"Your sister wanted pizza, and neither one of us had any cash. I know you always have cash on you so I didn't think you'd mind." She says as if that's enough of an explanation as to why she'd steal my wallet and why they'd order pizza on Christmas.

You've got to be kidding me.

"We've been cooking Christmas dinner all day! Why would you order pizza? Why did you go into my room and take my wallet and money?" I try and keep calm knowing I've been on the verge of lashing out all day.

"What's going on in here?" Alyssa asks walking out of the kitchen. The rest of her family following behind, all looking confused.

"Y/m/n and Heather ordered pizza for dinner meanwhile we've spent all day cooking Christmas dinner." I say, closer and closer to finally losing my cool. Alyssa, sensing this, moves quickly to stand by my side resting her hand on the small of my back rubbing small circles knowing that clams me down. I let out a sigh and slightly relax into her touch.

"It's okay baby, relax." Alyssa whispers into my ear. I relax further at her words but my eyes snap open at the comment from my sister.

"Gross, haven't you gotten over that gay thing yet? I thought that was just a phase in high school." she scoffs. I glare at my 'sister' looking to my mom who is standing by nodding in agreement with Heather. "You could do so much better than her any way. I mean look at her-" she gestures to Alyssa who's touch halts on my back.

At that point all I see is red.

"Seriously?!?" I exclaim cutting her off from continuing. I slowly push away from Alyssa finally at my breaking point. "You can say anything you want to about me. I'm used to your bullshit having been exposed to it all my life, but when you start talking bad about my wife. That! Is where I draw the line." I say moving towards the guest bedroom my mom was staying in.

"Wife?" I hear behind me but I ignore it continuing on my way. I stuff all of her belongings into her bag before moving to the front door. I open it and throw her bag onto the front porch. I turn to her and Heather who look at me like I'm crazy.

"I've had enough of you two ruining my life. You need to leave. Now. Or I will not hesitate to call the police and have you forcefully removed from the premises." I stand and point to the open door waiting for them to move.

"But sweetheart, it's Christmas you can't throw your family out onto the streets," Y/m/n says trying to guilt me like she used to. I walk towards her stopping behind the couch.

"No, you haven't been my family for a long time. My family is those people over there who actually care about me unlike you who has always put Heather over me. For once in my life, I will not back down. Now leave or I will call the cops." The two share a look before moving to the front door. I grab the pizza box off the coffee table before following behind them to the front door.

"Don't forget your Christmas dinner," I call as they get to the steps on the porch. They turn to me, Y/m/n reaching out to take it, I smile sweetly opening the box before throwing it at her causing her to scream and shock. "Oops…I tripped." I shrug before closing the door. I lean my back against it letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Baby, are you okay?" I feel Alyssa's hand on my cheek, muck like earlier, softly brushing her thumb over my cheekbone. I bring my arms up to wrap around her waist before taking a deep breath, opening my eyes looking into hers. I lean forward pressing a kiss to her lips letting it linger for a moment before pulling back resting my forehead on hers.

"I've never been better. Now I get to peacefully enjoy our first Christmas together as a married couple with your- sorry our family," I whisper, she smiles pressing another kiss to my lips. I pull her closer to me, resting my head on her shoulder as her arms move to wrap around my neck holding me in a hug. I glance up over her shoulder to see Amanda, Donna and John back in the kitchen sitting around the island laughing together.

"Yea, definitely our family," I sigh pressing a final kiss to her lips before moving so one arm is around her waist as I lead us into the kitchen to enjoy Christmas together.

~~~

I watch from my place on the bed as Alyssa gets ready to sleep, moving around the room doing her night routine. The others in the guest rooms having decided to head to bed after we all watched a Christmas movie with hot cocoa. The TV remote in my hand ready to press play on The Santa Clause, one of Alyssa and I's favorites.

"Are you sure you're okay? Today was a lot," Alyssa asks as she climbs under the covers, snuggling into my side. Her head resting on my shoulder but tilted up to be able to look me in the eyes looking for signs I'm lying. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Of course, I mean my nose will be bruised for a few days but other than that I am fine. This has been a long time coming. I'm sorry it happened on Christmas but I don't regret that it happened. I hope they take the hint and never contact me again." I explain, she smiles leaning up to press a soft kiss to my bruised nose. "I love you Alyssa," I whisper as she pulls back.

"I love you too Y/n, forever." I send her a smile before leaning back in bed pressing play on the remote before setting it down to wrap both arms around my wife.

Best Christmas Ever.

#alyssa naeher #alyssa naeher x reader #woso community #woso x reader #x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #uswnt #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine

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