#all the fun stuff this time...(sorry wars) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Note

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting.

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself…

Now that is pure hell.

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you."

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.

"I'm just…"

Jesus, this is just humiliating.

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–"

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…"

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know."

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to.

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok."

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."

Whoa.

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop."

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…"

He sounds dazed.

Relieved.

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fluff #soft simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon riley x you #fluff and smut #call of duty

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incorrectbatfam · 1 month

Note

It's movie night but they can't use the home cinema, what do they do?

[week 1]

Bruce: Thanks for letting us use your place for movie night while we fix that leak at home.

Dick: No problem. Besides, I have plenty of snacks and the director's cut of Dumbo.

Everyone: *gathers around*

Dick: *puts on the movie*

~ 10 minutes in ~

*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*

Tim: My crime alert's going off.

Harper: Mine too.

Duke: Must be big.

Bruce: Suit up and rendezvous in three.

Dick: *sighs and pauses the movie*

Dick: Can't get one night in this damn city.

———————

[week 2]

Tim: Steph, why are we at a karaoke lounge?

Steph: I know the owner's cousin's hairdresser's dog walker's sister's girlfriend and I convinced them to let us use the party room. Don't worry, it's just like a TV screen.

Steph: *puts on Pitch Perfect*

Steph: Ooh, I love this part.

Steph: *grabs a mic and starts singing*

Everyone:

Damian: *stuffs napkins in his ears*

———————

[week 3]

Jason: Since we decided on Pride and Prejudice, I thought I could play it at my safehouse.

Dick: Sweet, thanks!

Jason: *unlocks the door*

Dick: *tries to step in*

Jason: *stops him*

Jason: I said I could play it. I never said you could come in. I don't want your you-ness all over my new stuff.

Bruce: Jason, be reasonable.

Harper: Yeah, you got this junk off the side of the road.

Jason: My junk, my rules.

Tim: Then what are we supposed to do?

Jason: Fire escape's around the back. You'll get a decent glance.

~ 20 minutes later ~

Dick: *leans his head in to hear better*

Jason: My air, my rules.

Jason: *closes the window*

———————

[week 4]

Bruce: Cass, it's your turn. Got the movie?

Cass: *nods and plays Rambo on her computer*

Barbara: Uh, why isn't there any sound?

Cass: Volume button broke. Just read lips.

Jason: Kinda hard to do that with the brightness at zero. Did that stop working too?

Duke: Looks fine to me.

Jason: Shut up, Flashlight.

———————

[week 5]

Tim: I brought my entire Star Wars collection.

Bruce, dodging a space laser: Not the time.

Tim: Okay.

Bruce: *punches an alien robot*

Tim: How about now?

———————

[week 6]

Barbara: Sorry I got a cold, but at least we can still have movie night on Zoom. I torrented a copy of The Matrix.

Barbara: *shares her screen*

*movie plays*

Barbara: *leaves herself unmuted*

Barbara: *starts crinkling Sun Chips*

———————

[week 7]

Everyone: *crowd around Damian's phone watching My Neighbor Totoro*

Bette: Why is your phone so small?

Damian: I have tiny hands.

———————

[week 8]

Harper: Because we're watching Cars this week, I thought I could put together an all-immersive experience.

Bruce: BY LOCKING US IN A RUNAWAY SEMI-TRUCK?!?

———————

[week 9]

Duke: I called this company and since we're heroes, they're letting us use their electronic billboard for this week's movie at a huge discount. Kill Bill should be coming on right about...

*movie starts playing*

Jason: Not bad, Narrows.

*billboard switches to an ad*

———————

[week 10]

Carrie: Since Steamboat Willie is now public domain, I thought we could do something different tonight.

Carrie: *pulls out a flipbook*

———————

[week 11]

Everyone: *watching Love, Simon in a dark living room*

*lights flick on*

Apollo and Midnighter: *standing there in date night outfits*

Steph: Um, Cullen, who are these guys?

Cullen: *laughs nervously*

Cullen: Everyone, meet Apollo and Midnighter. They're kinda-sorta my gay uncles and we're kinda-sorta in their apartment and I kinda-sorta didn't expect them to come back early.

Midnighter: Remind me why we gave you a spare key?

———————

[week 12]

Kate: *sets up a projector and plays Glass Onion*

Bruce: Kate, this is a crime scene.

Kate: The fun part's already done, let Gordon do cleanup this time.

———————

[week 13]

Alfred: Back in my day, we did not rely on scrupulous use of technology. Which is why I propose watching a classic Sherlock Holmes tale on a classic instrument.

Alfred: *pulls out a zoetrope*

Steph: Anyone know what that is?

Dick: Not a clue.

———————

[week 14]

Luke: Nothing like a good ol' drive-in movie. Great idea, Helena.

Helena: I know, and the Godfather is perfect for this.

*Batmobile crashes through the screen*

Steph: Sorry we're late.

Duke: I'm still figuring out the PRINDL.

———————

[week 15]

*TV playing the Aristocats*

Bruce, trying to flirt: I like what you've done with the curtains.

Selina: Thanks, but it was Snowball's after-dinner surprise.

*TV blinks off*

Tim: Hey, what gives?

Selina: *takes a chewed-up cord out of a cat's mouth*

Selina, sighing: This is why I married rich.

———————

[week 16]

Luke: May I present the ultimate Snakes On A Plane drone show!

*phone rings*

Luke: Hello? ... Yes, this is he. ... Mhm. ... Yep. ... Okay.

Luke: Never mind, the FAA says I can't.

———————

[week 17]

Everyone: *watching Legally Blonde at Bette's place*

*dogs barking*

*sirens*

*loud music*

*car honk*

*neighbors shouting*

Bette: Sorry, we have thin walls.

Bruce, shrugging: Eh, still not as bad as HOA.

———————

[week 18]

Damian: Where is movie night this time, Father?

Barbara: My money's on another crime scene.

Bruce: Actually, I rented out the theater just for us and they're playing a special edition of The Mark of Zorro. Everyone got their snacks?

Duke: Popcorn, check.

Cass: Licorice, check.

Steph: M&Ms are obviously the right answer by the way.

Dick: I got a slushee.

Jason: I got the slushee machine.

Bruce: Alright then, take your seats. The movie's about to begin.

*movie plays*

*Rogues break in, make a mess, and leave*

Bruce:

Bruce: I miss my parents.

503 notes · View notes

aezuria · 1 month

Note

okay now we need those Percy hcs immediately

*ੈ✎ love grows (where my rosemary goes)

"there's something about her hand holding mine, it's a feeling that's fine and i just gotta say 'hey!'" —edison lighthouse

note: OKAY ANON GOT TO WORK AS SOON I SAW THIS 🫡 idk what happened im sorry this is kinda ass 😔😔

content: percy jackson x reader; dating hcs

warnings: cursing

this man is a menace

he's head over heels for you but also almost drowned you

he claims the wave "wasn't supposed to be that big" SIR??

that was like typhoon level shit right there

he just wanted to put you under a littleee bit so he could be your knight in shining armor and save you 🥺🥺

spoiler: you ended up saving yourself

(it's okay he made it up with lots of cuddles and kisses)

you were wading into the water, eager to join percy in the deep end, when suddenly, an unnatural wave crashes into your back and sends you falling into the deep end

you gasp too late and take a mouthful of salty seawater

with your arms flailing in the water, you swam to the surface and gulped for air

you wiped at your face, opening your eyes to see percy near you, but at a distance as if he was afraid of invoking your wrath

you narrowed your eyes at him, his skittish behavior obviously telling you that he was the culprit

"JACKSON!" you swam towards him at a frighteningly quick pace, leaving the poor boy scrambling away and screaming apologies

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE!"

anyway

he swings your hands while you walk

its so silly and he loves it

also a fan of running while your hands are interlocked

the first time was purely out of instinct, him grabbing your hand as a monster crashed behind you guys (because when can demigods catch a break?) and he started sprinting, dragging you along

likes skipping??? he's so weird

says it conserves energy and it's fun (he's not wrong but he forgot to mention the downside of looking like a dumbass)

imagine him skipping into battle

or better yet: "greeks! let's, um, fight stuff!" and they all skip menacingly

that was kinda off topic my bad

if you wear a ponytail he loves spinning it around like a helicopter

makes the little noises too

you feel a tug on your hair, already knowing who it is

"percy? what the hell are you doing?"

"helicopter."

back to almost drowning you, you got back at him by draining all the water in his cabin

to this day, he still doesn't know how you did it

all he knows is that after the sink wouldn't turn on, he knew exactly who it was

he was a man on a MISSION as he ran across the whole camp to catch you

"Y/N!"

"IT WAS THE STOLLS!"

"YOU FILTHY LIAR!"

your relationship is full of prank wars and all that good stuff

once it's over you settle down and cuddle on the shore

he laid out a picnic blanket for the two of you and you talked for hoursss into the night

the two of you were sleepy, heads resting on each other as a gentle breeze swept the salty air into your faces

percy was rambling on and on about you, but you were already half-asleep

"you're just so amazing and wonderful and i'm so grateful for you, you know? you're so fun to be with, and you're so beautiful.. y/n?" he looked down at you after your lack of response, finding your pretty eyes shut

he smiled down at you and pressed a kiss to your forehead

"goodnight."

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy #percy x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #*ੈ✎ stories

361 notes · View notes

l3viat8an · 4 months

Note

Ok we all know how much you love streamer Levi but what about an au or something with Streamer Mammon?

I do love streamer!Levi <333 still so happy it’s canon now too!!!! But!!!! Streamer!Mammon sounds fun too- so plz enjoy some headcanons!!! cuz apparently I had a lot to say :) also it’s been so long since I’ve done hcs so these are all over the place- sorry jsjsjs

Listen Mammon only started streaming after he saw how much money Levi made streaming- manz could not believe people actually pay other people to play games???- weirdos.

He’s like really good at COD- idk why or how he just is-

Honestly whenever he plays games, he’s either the first or the last to die…..there’s just no in between. Mammon plays so aggressively, his plan either flops right out the gate or he wins the game.

He’ll play just about any game that’s popular or trending thinking it’ll get him good ratings (and it usually does-)

Makes a big deal out of ‘playing games for the first time ever!!’ on stream because his fans love watching him skip tutorials “who has time for that crap???” and fail the first time.

He calls his subs, his grimm and they call him pookie jkjk-

He’s really good at survival games and games that require a lot of precision timing. Even if Mammon acts like a goofball he can focus and it’s impressive!

He’s in this ‘war’ with Levi where they raid each other’s streams all the damn time which is really funny cuz they share a ton of fans, so it’s more like fans running back and forth.

When they’re not ‘at war’ Levi and Mammon actually play together a lot!! Subs love when they have devilcart tournaments or team up and speedrun some dungeon.

Mammon always clams he’s more popular then Levi and makes more money!!! But they’re pretty even all around. Their numbers are only a few thousand followers off and tips are almost the same.

He has tons, and I mean tons of sponsors / sponsorships. He’s really good at casual product placement, showing the label / name of what he’s drinking or snacking on, on stream and sponsors love that shit-

If you two are dating your relationship is very public. He loves to posts about you on all his social media and show you off!!! Your his and he makes sure all his fans know he’s taken <3

Always invites you to come on stream with him!!!

Or he’ll start streams like “Come watch me beat my (gf/bf) at (game name)!!!” and the stream almost always ends with you winning ;)

After you’ve beaten him a few times he switches to playing only sillier games with you, stuff like Minecraft, devilcart or generic domestic / cooking games.

Speaking of cooking games- he once played cooking mama on stream and had to rage quit because he kept messing up-

He’s always a blushing mess when you’re on camera, which is something his chat teases him about endlessly!!

Bonus points if you give him a little kiss on the cheek after he wins a game and his fans can watch him turn bright red~

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canthandlethishit · 5 days

Text

what if tim and jason relationship isn’t like ‘you hurt me but it was the pit rage and youre sorry now so we good’ but tim absolutely retaliate by making jason’s life hell and it turns into a full out prank-war and they become friends again from that

like Jason fully meant to hurt tim in the titan tower and tim going ‘pffft you robin on steroids’ ‘omg Jason finally some age-appropriate clothing and real pants’ ‘bro you gotta lay-off the cows with all that leather’ <- tim has the pass to make these jokes because *points at titan incident* he makes damn sure he uses the pass with grace and excellent execution

like i want Jason to slowly go like ‘im sorry for legit trying to murder you’ and his reasoning being because i legit meant it and that was horrible and the pit influence was real but it only served to amplify all the other fucked up stuff and not the root of all his actions

and tim accepting the apology on his terms like ‘its chill bro ig i understand where it came from and it was fucked up asf but hey i got to vocalize all this morbid too soon jokes i would’ve never got to so’

like a more gradual jason - tim relationship being built up, and tim being a lot more of a little shit and jason is like damn you earned your robin place in the snark-roasting department alone

also when damian comes in the picture and after the whole time stream thing jason and tim can make fun/ one up each other form their being replaced reactions

‘you literally dressed up in traffic light colors with shorts and beat up a minor’

‘you literally joined an assassin organization, became an international criminal and lost a spleen’

‘that’s rich coming from you, red hood, the CRIMELORD’

#theyre each other fav robins your honor #dick: :(#<- sorry my man but maybe you can be jason’s 1.5 favorite robin #robin #jason todd #tim drake #batfam #batfam prompt #idk this all might be real ooc but i just want crack and dumb fuckery bonding #robin!jason #robin!tim #damian #red robin #red hood #the red hood #batfam writing prompt #incorrect batfamily quotes #incorrect batkids #incorrect batfam quotes

326 notes · View notes

coffeeshades · 1 year

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). filthy smut. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: i know i made you guys wait a lot for this but i wanted it to be perfect and i was really busy but it's finally here now! thank you for the love on the first two parts, i love all of you. happy reading!!!

"Oh yes! I forgot about the most exciting part. It's your friend, Pedro Pascal."

You're not sure who it's exciting for, because it's certainly not you. Sure, Jon had no idea what had happened between you and Pedro, but you were hoping he did at the time. Because if he did, he wouldn't be gushing about how exciting it is that the two of you are going to collaborate.

You try to hide your dismay and muster up a smile as Jon continues to talk about how great Pedro is. You can't help but wonder how you're going to make it through this project without letting your personal issues with Pedro get in the way of your work and finally driving you into insanity.

Regardless, you know you have to remain professional and focused. It's just a job.

"Does he know about me?" you hesitantly ask.

"Yeah, he's known for awhile." Jon replies, "We asked him not to mention anything, but I've gotta say I'm surprised he actually didn't."

"I've got to say I'm surprised too."

•••

For the next few weeks, the only thing on your mind was Pedro. You couldn't stop thinking about what he might have said or what he thought when he found out you were going to work together. This war between you and your brain was pretty stupid because you could just call him or send him a quick text.

Hey, guess what? We're finally going to work together! :)

Simple as that.

The problem was that you didn't want to be the one to bring it up first. You weren't the type to hold a grudge over trivial matters, but here you were, silently punishing him for what he did last month.

One of your last shows on the tour was in New York, and as usual, you invited most of your friends. Even though Pedro had been living in London for the last few months, you still sent him a text inviting him. He had taken a flight for other stuff, so it was safe to assume he would make the effort for this as well.

You: Hey! I know you're in London, but my show at MSG is next week, and everyone's coming. I would like for you to come too :)

Pedrito: Hi, my schedule here is pretty tight for next week. I'm sorry. Next time?

You: Bummer. Sure.

Despite your disappointment, you understood the situation perfectly. His work schedule has become quite hectic recently, as he has been traveling and shooting movies in various locations such as Hawaii, Boston, and now London. Your schedules no longer seemed to be in sync, and neither of you made an effort to rearrange your plans to fit the other.

Those months he spent filming with Oscar in Hawaii were by far the worst. Mostly because they were having fun and you weren't part of it. To put it mildly, the FOMO nearly killed you. The group chat and his Instagram were filled with pictures of them surfing, hiking, and exploring the island while you were miles away alone.

The night of the show arrived, and everything went smoothly as planned, leaving you with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. That later changed when, backstage, in the midst of winding down, Oscar approached you with a smile, "Too bad Pedro couldn't make it, he would've loved this outfit."

You smile as you look down at your own stage outfit, knowing he'd like it because of its purple color.

"Too bad he's in London," you reply back.

Oscar's face falls slightly as he responds, "London?"

You nod as you chug down the last of your water bottle.

"No, he got here days ago," he says, huffing a laugh. "I called him so we could ride together, but he never answered. I figured I would run into him here."

"Oh."

Oscar's expression is slightly puzzled, as if he's trying to connect the dots between the two statements. "Is everything okay between you guys?"

You wanted to lie so bad; say yes and play it cool. After all, that's what you two have been doing for the past nine months: playing pretend. But this whole exchange has caught you off guard, and you're not sure if you want to continue with the facade or finally be honest about the situation.

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

For days, you tried to brush it off and convince yourself that it was no big deal, but deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and hurt. He had been there and chose not to go. Not even a call or text to explain or apologize. Nothing.

So, no. You weren't going to text him first, were you?

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

If somebody had told Pedro three years ago that he would be starring as a bounty-hunting badass in a signature Star Wars series, he would've laughed in their face. But here he was, about to start the table read for the first episode of The Mandalorian, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as he waited to see how his character would come to life on screen.

It was a pinch-me moment. He had come a long way since his early days as a struggling actor, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work with such talented people on a project that was sure to be groundbreaking. As he looked around the room at his fellow cast members and crew, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Until his eyes landed on you.

He then felt shame and guilt for how he handled things a month before. He knows he fucked up. You're sitting across from him, the heavy, discerning quality of your gaze sending shivers down his spine. It's as if you're peering right through him, past the gleaming politeness to the rough edges beneath. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

Your expression says, "Wipe that smile off your face. There's nothing to be happy about."

He was convincing himself that he didn't exactly know what drove him not to tell you the truth about his availability. Except he did. His time away from you had allowed him to get you out of his system, and he didn't want to fall back down the maybe-I-have-feelings-for you rabbit hole again. So in true Pedro fashion, he avoided it.

He knew he'd be back in New York for your concert when you texted him. Yet he boldly lied. And it bit him in the ass.

He couldn't throw away all the progress the two of you had made, so he knew he had to make amends for his behavior before it was too late. He made a mental note to talk to you after the reading was over.

•••

The reading was over in what seemed like an eyeblink. You were so thrilled to be part of this, and even given everything that has happened between you two, you would be lying if you said you weren't happy you're doing this with him.

Though you weren't doing a particularly good job of displaying it. You barely talked to him when you got here, quickly exchanging hellos and moving on to something else.

You were settling into your trailer with your agent, going over some details, when you heard a knock. Your agent quickly rises to unlock the door as you continue to put some of your things in a drawer. When the door opens, you hear him before you see him. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and you can't either. A smile formed on your lips as you closed the drawer before collecting yourself and remembering that you were really mad at him.

"Pedro, long time no see!" she says as they hug and exchange pleasantries.

Taylor looks my way. "I am going to get some of those snacks we saw earlier," she says, "I'll be back in a bit."

As she exits the trailer, you make your way to the door. Pedro is standing there, dressed in a black sweatshirt, olive green trousers, and white sneakers, which you can only describe as attractive.

Needless to say, he was making it difficult for you to hate him right now.

•••

Pedro's mind goes completely blank when he sees you; it's as if he has forgotten everything else around him and all he can focus on is you, making it hard for him to form coherent sentences.

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

"Is that why you came here?" you inquire, "to tell me my hair's pretty?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he replies back as he steps into the trailer and closes the door behind him. He watches you sit on the edge of the sofa that adorned the room, hands on each side of you, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I just wanted to make things right, kid."

"Why?"

"Because you’re the last person in the world I want to upset. That would be, like, devastating."

"Hmm," you hum, a blank expression on your face, "you're not doing a very good job at it."

Pedro couldn't help but smirk at your jab, "Clearly. You looked like you were plotting my murder in there."

"Oh, I already know where I'm going to hide your body."

His laugh fills the room, and your face softens. He began walking towards the couch, and you both slumped back into it at the same time. "It's nothing really; I'm over it," you say, staring at the wall.

Pedro tilts his head to look at you, "When will you learn that you're so bad at lying that it's not worth even trying?"

You face him, your beautiful eyes catching him off guard. "This is the worst apology ever, by the way."

"I know, princesa," he says softly. "But I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't go, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize."

You slowly nod, your face displaying a hint of uncertainty. As if you're trying to figure out whether he's sincere or not, which he wishes you didn't have to even wonder about. "It's okay if you didn't want to go; I just wish you would've said that instead of lying and making me look like an idiot, P."

No, no, no. I wanted to go, but I'm a fucking coward.

Your words pierced him like a dagger, and the pang of guilt washed over him again. He's been drowning in it for the past few weeks, but to actually hear the disappointment in your voice is a completely different beast.

Before he could even muster up a response, you speak again, "But I forgive you."

Pedro's breathing slowed down as you placed a hand on his thigh, and he heard those words. He reciprocated the gesture and then put his hand over yours, gripping it softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he says, "because now we can properly freak out about this," excitement overflowing through him as he couldn't keep it in anymore.

He needed to share this with you. When the creators of the show approached him, you were the first person that came to his mind. One of the things you've always wanted to be part of was Star Wars, so he knew you would be jealous to find out he was cast in this and couldn't wait to give you a hard time, just like Oscar did when he got the role of Poe.

That plan quickly fell apart when the creators revealed they were bringing you aboard, and even though it meant he couldn't torture you any longer, he was overjoyed you were going to be by his side in this.

“You must be ecstatic,” you tell him, your hands still connected, "this is a big deal."

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

"I did," you attempt to correct yourself, but it’s too late. Pedro has already saved the words for later in his mind. "I mean, we did! We all did. Your friends, I mean. We knew things were only going to get better for you. Even before I met you, I knew you were going to do great things. Sarah talked about it all the time, too, and we're pretty sure this is only the beginning."

He's stunned at the rambling explanation of your thoughts about his rising career. He looks at you with gratitude in his eyes, feeling fortunate to have supportive people like you in his life who believe in him.

The lack of hesitation in your voice did the opposite of what your words had done; it cooled down the hope that had lit up like a flame in his chest.

"Now, come on, let's find Taylor and those snacks," you tell him as you rise up from the couch and extend your hand to him, "I'm hungry, and we still have costume fittings," you add. He puts his hand in yours, restraining himself and letting you struggle to pull him up as you try your hardest to do so.

"You asshole!" you yell, tightening your grip on his hand, "Stop that and get up!"

He can't stop laughing as you finally manage to pull him up. "you need to work on your strength, baby," he says between chuckles.

You scoff and playfully hit him on the shoulder, "My strength is fine, thank you."

"Ow! Who's the asshole now?" he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.

“And don't call me baby,” you tell him. "I forgave you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"I don't think it works that way, baby."

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

The next two months were amazing, to say the least. It's as if all the two of you needed was to work together on a TV series to realize how much you needed to be together. Just like your on-screen characters, you two were tied to work together by a third thing, that thing being, of course, the child.

Speaking of the child, you were obsessed with it. You couldn't believe a green, Yoda-like animatronic puppet could win your heart in such a short period of time, but here you were. It was magical. Truth be told, everything about The Mandalorian was magical.

Every day you had to step on that immaculate set that's built and surrounded by volume, which creates an infinite sort of visual experience in terms of skies, planets, space, ships, and all kinds of things, was magical.

It just felt like you were stepping onto these highly sophisticated amusement park rides, with very little being left to the imagination because of how incredible the design work is from all the departments.

Another magical thing was seeing Pedro bring the character to life. His ability to convey so much depth and complexity to a character that is mostly hidden behind a mask is truly impressive. From crafting his "Mandalorian" walk and stance to his deep, jarring voice.

That voice.

That voice was made to torture you and send shivers down your spine. That voice made you forget all of your life's problems. Actually, that voice was made for one thing and one thing only, the bedroom.

"Oh my god, it doesn't sound like a bedroom voice!" he protested, as he highlighted lines in his script.

You were joining him and the creators in the recording booth for his voiceover session.

"It does! It's a sexy bedroom voice." you teased, making everyone laugh. "That's not very Disney of you, P."

He gets closer to the mic and whispers, voice altered because of the modulator, "Bite me."

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

You were having as much fun as you could. Simply put, you two were menaces on set.

You could tell Jon, Dave, and the rest of the crew were patient with your antics, but it was clear that they were also entertained by your on-set dynamic. It's not everyday that you get to work with your best friend, and you two made it everyone's problem.

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.”

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious.

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons.

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family."

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation.

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—"

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to."

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision.

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?”

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.”

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay.

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy."

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun."

No, he hasn’t changed his mind.

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.”

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.”

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise."

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead.

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text.

You: I'm here, tonto.

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta.

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab.

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate.

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?”

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.”

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often."

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home.

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.”

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side.

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect.

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?”

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face.

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake.

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.”

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.”

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly.

��Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here."

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added.

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired."

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap.

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor.

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.”

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?”

“I love it,” you tell him.

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.”

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling.

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to."

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh.

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him.

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him.

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along.

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.”

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.”

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.

“Sweet dreams.”

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.”

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.”

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.”

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."

“That's better,” you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.”

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission.

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail.

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen.

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.”

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.”

“Don't tell me what to do," you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera.

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack.

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore.

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa."

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t.

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel, "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.”

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.”

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.”

“Please do.”

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it."

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again.

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question.

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home."

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.”

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.”

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate.

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—"

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone.

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.”

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...”

“But what?” Pedro interrupts.

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. “But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass.

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing.

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.”

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug.

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.”

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!”

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.”

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes.

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind.

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway.

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way.

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room.

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!” he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver.

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race.

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.”

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you.

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it,"

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk.

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back.

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.”

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself.

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly.

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile.

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel.

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.”

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?”

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm.

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck.

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks.

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his.

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs.

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds."

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?”

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.”

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.”

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say."

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.”

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster.

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch.

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you.

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him.

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.”

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.”

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard.

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over.

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum."

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel.

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself.

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer."

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours.

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.”

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.”

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.”

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me."

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?”

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again.

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you.

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.”

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick.

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.”

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house.

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?”

You chuckle, “Leaving.”

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page.

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.”

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.”

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?

“Okay, I'll stay.”

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you.

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world.

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex.

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it."

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse.

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.”

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them."

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?"

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas."

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.”

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.”

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire.

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart.

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you.

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace.

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful,"

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?”

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it.

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss.

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend.

“Can I wash your hair?”

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.”

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy.

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out.

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!”

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island.

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress.

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing.

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content.

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.”

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.”

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that."

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this.

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen.

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew.

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling.

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week.

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this."

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.”

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels.

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end.

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid.

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story.

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity.

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart.

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go.

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything.

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

#love is complicated fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fic #my writing

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samkerrworshipper · 7 months

Text

found family | arsenal women x reader

no warnings just sickness, comfort and a little bit of angst

blurb: when r decides it’s a good idea to go out in the snow for the first time after training they suffer the consequences, and then suffer the consequences of trying to conceal their sickness

sorry if this draws on, wanted to give y’all something so this is from the drafts lol and idk how i feel about it

Doing snow angels after training in nothing more than shirts and shorts was never going to be a good idea, but I’d done it anyway. Me, Katie, Caitlin, Alessia and Beth having snuck out without telling any of our other teammates to have a moment in the snow. It was some harmless fun that we were sure our coaches and captains wouldn’t approve of, so we’d snuck out of the recovery room without anybody taking notice and had some fun in the snow. We hadn’t been out in it for much longer than 20 minutes, just long enough to slip out and in. It was rare for there to be so much snow so early in the year, I had hardly been expecting it and it wasn’t the normal sludge that North London was renowned for, it was proper fluffy white snow, the stuff you see in hallmark movies. I was the only player on the team who had never seen real snow before, so when I’d pleaded with Katie to take me out in it, she could hardly say no to me.

Beth, Caitlin and Alessia had just been casualties. Katie had taken Lessi under her wing since her start at Arsenal, the two had very quickly become bonded and there wasn’t much you could do with Katie anymore without Alessia and Caitlin being her companions.

Beth and Viv had happened to overhear our conversation in recovery and Beth had pleaded with us to let her come, Viv just shook her head at us, clearly in disapproval of our decisions but also not bothering herself with trying to stop us, there wasn’t any point, she wouldn’t win.

So we’d somehow managed to sneak out of the recovery rooms and out onto the spare field, which was covered in a blanket of white snow. Almost immediately I’d thrown myself down into the powder, shivering slightly at the coldness but not really caring, it was an experience that felt so incredibly surreal that I was in complete ignorance over my senses.

The four other women just sat and watched as I rolled around in the snow, Katie and Beth shaking their heads at my antics. Alessia busied herself with getting in a snowball fight with Caitlin. It had stayed fairly tame until I’d thrown one at Katie’s head and then it had turned into a full on war, ending with Katie and I wrestling in the snow.

Our snow escapades had ended with Beth forcing me out of the snow and into a jacket, I was shivering all ready but I didn’t care, my heart felt mended in a way that was inexplicably perfect.

I’d been forced into a hot shower by Katie, her overbearing motherly tendencies also making Alessia and Caitlin join me. Beth had been the only one to not enter the snow so she’d slipped her way into the dinner room whilst us other girls had been busy warming our bodies back up. Caitlin and Alessia were fairly quick, but I took a little bit longer, my body still shivering even as I exited the shower to throw on some sweats.

Katie’s furrowed brow was enough to tell me that she was a little worried about the fact that I was still shivering and cold, but she didn’t vocalise her worries, instead opting to rush me and the other girls into the dinner room. Somehow our absence had gone unnoticed, something that I was shocked by because we were hardly the quiet crew of the group.

I’d slid into a seat across from Viv and beside Steph, my body still a quivering mess. Viv’s eyeroll was enough of an ‘I told you so’, the older dutch woman clearly disapproving of our decisions. I tucked into my dinner, pesto pasta with chicken and garlic bread. It didn’t take long for Steph, my fellow Matilda to notice my shivering body. My fingers struggling every once in a while to hold my fork still.

“Little bit cold, y/n/n?”

I smirked and chuckled at the light implication from Steph, trying my very hardest to not give away the intense chills that were wracking my body, I was sure they would fade eventually.

“Just not fully used to this London weather I suppose, had someone warned me it was going to be so cold I think I would have stayed in Perth.”

Steph nodded at me knowingly, before returning to her conversation she’d been having with Beth, leaving me face to face with Viv, who had worry weaved between her brows as she studied me. Beth and Viv had just been two of the people who had taken me under their wing since my arrival at the Arsenal. Viv especially, although she’d never admit it, had particularly gone out of her way to look after me. On top of the two captains, Leah and Kim who had practically adopted me as soon as I’d walked through the doors. Leah was harder on me then anyone else, considering she was also a mentor to me on the defensive side of the pitch, so when she’d taken me under her wing I’d been a little bit terrified. She was always on my ass, I was always the first person in trouble with her and the first person to be blamed for anything. I was also the youngest on the team, and my personality was loud and bubbly, something that didn’t assist in helping me keep my head down around the team.

It was one of the reasons Beth and I got on famously, the both of us always looking to cause a little bit of mayhem but most of all have fun, Katie normally getting caught up in our antics considering she was the team's designated prankster.

Right now though, I felt anything but bubbly, my head beginning to pound against my trembling form as I pushed the pasta around my bowl, no longer feeling the overwhelming hunger I’d left a few minutes ago.

It was the clambering of a teammate sitting down beside me that pulled me from my daze, dropping my fork on the bowl as I turned to see who was sitting next to me.

“Hey lover girl.”

Kyra’s hand found it’s way to my head, ruffling my hair, her hand retracting back quickly though as soon as she made contact with my scalp, her eyebrows furrowing into a similar expression to what Viv had given me a few minutes ago when I’d been caught out by her.

“Why’s your head so cold? Feels like you’ve just come out of the ice baths.”

Kyra’s voice was nothing but friendly, but with the mixture of my sudden headache and my annoyance over people telling me that I was cold I couldn’t help but give her a bitten back response.

“I’m fine, just leave me the fuck alone.”

Kyra visibly flinched back at my words and everyone around us went quiet fairly quickly, everyone sensing the sudden tension and confrontation occurring between me and my teammate. Kyra slid into the seat beside me, one of her hands falling to my thigh which I immediately flinched away from.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

I moved myself away from Kyra, inching myself further towards Steph, my other national teammate who seemed as equally confused by my behaviour as Kyra was.

“Y/n, a word?”

It was the voice from the other end of the table that captured my attention, Leah standing from the table already, clearly having detected the awkwardness between Kyra and I.

I clambered my way from my seat, scuffing my feet against the carpeted floor of the dining room as I tagged along behind Leah, following her out of the room and out into the corridor. I flicked the hood of my jumper over my head, toying with the drawstring as Leah turned to face me as soon as we were out of earshot from the group.

“What was that about?”

Her facial expression was as stern as ever as she looked at me, I kept my eyes on my feet, my head fucking hurt and I was still shivering, it was less noticeable though as I stood, I kept my hands out of sight and tried my very hardest to keep my body still.

“She was pissing me off.”

I could hear Leah frowning from in front of me, I didn’t need to look at her face to sense it.

“Does her pissing you off make it okay to tell her to fuck off, because I would hardly say that she deserved that, what’s up? This whole attitude is hardly normal for you.”

I kept my eyes focused on my shoes, toying with a bit of fluff that was stuck on the carpet, edging it slowly across the material with my shoed foot.

“Nothing’s up, I’m fine.”

Leah’s arm grabbing for my sleeve covered hand hadn’t been what I was accepting, the action drawing my eyes up to meet her own.

“I won’t have this piss poor attitude, go home, get some sleep and be here with a fresh mind tomorrow morning, understood?”

I pulled my hand from Leah’s, not letting her hold on to mine long enough to feel the tremors coursing across my skin.

“Aye, Aye, captain.”

I rolled my eyes at Leah, fake saluting her as I walked back into the dining room, picking my keys and phone up from the table quickly before exiting the building, not leaving any room to ask any questions as I stormed out of the room.

I somehow made it back to my apartment without passing out at the wheel, a miracle if you asked me. I didn’t have the will to do anything besides fall straight into my bed, very quickly changing into a pair of flannel pyjamas and stacking a pile of blankets on top of my sheets before climbing into the bed and relaxing into the mix of blankets, the mixture of heat and darkness calming my symptoms just enough to lull me into a fever induced sleep.

I woke up multiple times during the night, vomiting, coughing, sweats, chills, it all. My sleep was restless and by the time my alarms were going off I felt worse than ever. I was supposed to be at training by 9, but I could hardly manage to get out of bed to get to the toilet, let alone even attempt to try and put my training gear on and run around on a football pitch for three hours. I let my phone snooze one last time before flicking a text to Jonas, telling him that I was feeling a little bit under the weather and was just going to take the day to recuperate, all though something in my gut told me that one day wouldn’t be enough, not with the croaky cough that was wracking my whole body and the fever that I knew I was running. It was winter in London, I’d probably just picked up a 48 hour bug.

Jonas replied fairly quickly, telling me that he hoped I felt better and that it was a good idea to take a rest day.

With that text I turned off all of my alarms and burrowed back into my blanket fort, the effort of even having to look at my phone and piece together a text being too much for my head. My whole body hurt, my chest and ribs hurting every single time I took a breath, let alone coughed. The chills from yesterday were yet to pass, my whole body feeling like I was still out lying in the snow, even though I knew in reality my whole body was overheating. That thought still didn’t stop me from piling more blankets on top of my body, settling back into my bed with a groan as a wave of nausea and pain washed over me.

I faded in and out of the day, similarly to as I had done at night, my fever induced state making even my conscious moments feel like a dream. I ignored the incessant sound of my phone buzzing on my bedside table, opting to ignore anybody or anything that was popping up on it, I had one job in North London, play football, and I’d alerted my coach so that was as far as my social correspondence needed to go, any teammates or friends who decided my life was their business didn’t matter to me right now, my body hurt to much to care.

Somewhere around 5 or 6 the incessant coughing came to be too much for my body and I found my body keeled over the toilet bowl, dry heaving as I coughed up the mucus and phlegm that was caught up in my lungs. It was a painful experience, my lungs burning with every single breath that left my body, the oxygen burning on its way in.

I dragged myself back to my bed once I was done, the sun just beginning to set and my body having the capacity to do nothing more than lie down in my bed and wait for darkness to come so I could go back to sleep, tomorrow was our day off, so at least I didn’t have to worry about explaining another absence to Jonas.

My sleep through the night was even worse than the previous day, probably credited to the lack of energy I had in my body. The pain in my chest worsening drastically and in the wee hours of the morning I dragged a blanket and pillow into my ensuite, coming to the realisation that I didn’t have the energy to walk back and forth from the bathroom every time I had to go to the bathroom, which was fairly frequent with the amount of shit I was coughing up. I contemplated calling a teammate or Sam, whose apartment was fairly close to mine and I trusted her enough to ask her to come over. I didn’t though, opting to fall asleep on my toilet seat instead of getting up to go fetch my phone.

I stayed like that for most of the night, I think, honestly somewhere along in the night it all blurred into one. Until I was awoken brutally at 8am by the sound of pounding on my apartment door. I ignored it, half not believing that the sound was real and that it was just the sound of my fucking skull pounding against my brain in my head, a reflection of how my head had felt for the past 24 hours.

The knocking only grew louder and more persistent though, until it finally ceased and not much longer than 30 seconds later I was face to face with my two arsenal captains, both of their faces pink and rosy from the London cold and slightly exasperated.

“Hey skippers.”

My voice was laced with delirium, the only thing keeping me conscious at that point.

“Hey Joey, how you feeling?”

Leah walked cautiously towards me, letting Kim do the talking whilst she approached me and pressed the back of her palm to my forehead, grimacing almost immediately as her hand made contact with my own skin. I leant into the contact, her hand a relief from the fluctuating temperature my body had been upholding.

“Fuck, she’s burning up.”

Leah’s accent was thicker than normal, her voice covered in a blanket of concern that I’d never heard before.

“I’ll get Katie and Viv to come up, they can help get her into the car, we’ll have to take her to A&E, it’s bloody impossible to get an appointment with a doctor at this time of year.”

I shook my head at Kim almost immediately, or shook it as much as I could with the headache I had.

“M’ fine, just a 48 hour bug.”

My voice made me sound so much smaller, like I was a six year old and it was doing absolutely nothing to get my point across, in contradiction probably making my argument far weaker.

“Viv told us about you playing in the snow. What were you thinking? Playing in the snow with no clothes on after training, different breed you aussies.”

Kim mused at me, smiling a little bit as she watched Leah hurry around my bathroom, searching around. I frowned guiltily, knowing that once I felt better, once this was all over I’d be on the receiving end of a rather lengthy lecture about not endangering myself, a lecture I was sure Beth and Katie would have already received, considering Viv had snitched on us.

“I’m fine, I feel fine.”

My words were followed up by a fit of coughs that had me leaning back over the bowl of the toilet coughing up more phlegm, hardly a convincing point. My cough was dry, from the lack of fluids I’d consumed and the lack of liquids that were left in my body from the vomiting. My throat completely raw from the continuous retching.

“Don’t sound fine, sweetheart.”

Kim’s words were paused by Leah exclaiming as she located my first aid kit, that the two of them had put in my apartment when I’d moved in, claiming I was far too clumsy to not have one. She pulled out a thermometer almost immediately.

“I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, if you are below 38 then we’ll stay here. Me and Leah will look after you, like we could have yesterday if you had called us, or anyone. If you are above 38 though then we have to go to the hospital, because we don’t want you getting seriously sick, I know it sucks but we have to keep you safe sweetie. Kerr would have my neck if I didn’t return her best defender back in perfect condition when the international break rolls around, understood?”

I frowned at Kim, her stern scottish accent leaving no room for argument. I opened my mouth up to Leah, letting her slip the piece of metal into my dry and inflamed mouth. Waiting patiently until it beeped and frowning almost as soon as she saw it.

“41.”

Fuck. That number even made me frown a little bit, because that was unsafely high and all of us knew it. It explained all of my symptoms, and the cloud that I’d been floating on for the last day, a fever induced high that was the cause of my incessant sweating and shakes.

Kim frowned down at me, I shrugged at her in defeat, both of us knowing what it meant.

“C’mon sweet, let's get you changed and in the car.”

I looked up at Leah, my body folding in defeat as she bent down to lift me from the floor. I immediately wrapped my arms around her, letting her carry me back into my bedroom. She made quick work of changing me out of my pyjamas into a plain grey pair of sweatpants and an arsenal hoodie, giving me a peck to the forehead once she was done getting me changed. Her lips, cold from the London air felt so good on my burning skin, relaxing the itching and searing sensation that had covered every surface of my skin.

“Kim?”

Kim had busied herself with collecting a bag of my belongings, chargers, electronics, a change of clothes, and my toiletries. I had pretty much gone limp in Leah’s arms, letting her brush through my hair and comb it into a plait at the back of my head. The vice captain whispering sweet nothings in my ear as I groaned and coughed, my body tired from the constant pain.

“Yes, Joey?”

She took a pause in her hunt for my things, turning to face me, one of her eyebrows quirked at me in questioning. .

“Do you think you could text Sammy for me, please, and maybe Macca, I don’t want them to worry about me.”

My voice was so quiet I wasn’t even sure she’d heard it. The worry was growing on me though, the realisation that I really wasn’t as well as I’d been telling myself and Sam would want to be the first person called. Kim gave me a little smile before nodding and getting back to her job, collecting the last of my things just as I heard my front door open again.

“Of course I can sweet, let’s just get you in the car and then we can text whoever you need, alright?”

I heard Katie and Viv making their way through my flat, eventually making it to the doorway of my room, poking their heads around the side of my bedroom door.

As soon as I caught sight of Viv I bursted into tears, no longer being able to hold in the emotions that I’d holed up for the better part of the past 24 hours.

She was quick to be at my side, not protesting whatsoever as I threw myself into her arms, soaking the shoulder of her jumper with my tears and snot immediately. I was a blubbering mess, murmuring a flurry of apologies and admissions into Viv’s collarbone, the guilt of my actions settling into my gut.

“Hey, liefje, it’s okay, take some deep breaths for us.”

I burrowed my head into Viv, the feeling of sickness washing back over my body and making me feel worse.

“We’ve got you kiddo, I know you feel icky, but we need to get you to the hospital, to get you some help, so you can feel a bit better.”

I groaned into Viv’s body, rolling my eyes as she snickered a little bit at my reaction.

“I know you don’t want to, but we’re all really worried about you and you need some help, you're burning up like crazy, so let us take you, please?”

Leah’s palms were rubbing circles into my back, relaxing the muscles that were so tense. Viv’s arm was wrapped tightly around my shoulder, like she was protecting me from the world.

“C’mon kid, Katie and I have the car downstairs, all warm for you.”

Viv’s offer was enough to have me sighing in defeat and pursing my lips. I nodded half heartedly, letting Leah pull me from Viv’s arms so she could stand up. Leah helped me to pull my ugg boots over my feet whilst Kim and Katie finished collecting my things. I tried valiantly to walk by myself, but only made it to my doorway before my legs were weakening below me and Leah had to catch me. She carried me bridal style to the car, squishing me into the backseat between her and Kim.

My head found its way into the nook of Kim’s neck, silent tears and snot making its way down my face as we drove slowly towards the hospital. Leah, with a tissue at hand, very discreetly wiped at my face when I needed it and kneaded my arm muscles with her hands, helping my trembling hands to relax just a little bit. Slowly as we continued to drive any energy that I had previously possessed started to fade.

Kim called Sam, at my insistence, Sam was worried as soon as she heard Kim’s voice and after the explanation practically begged Kim to let her speak to me, so I was put on the phone with Sam, even at my reluctance.

“Joey?”

“Yup.”

“Hey sweet, how you feeling?”

I gulped slightly, not wanting to make Sam worry but also not wanting to lie to my skipper.

“Shit, I’m fine though.”

I could hear Sam’s eye roll from the otherside of the phone.

“41 degree temperature doesn’t sound too fine to me, what were you thinking?”

“Just wanted to have some fun.”

Sam’s scoff from the other side of the phone was enough to tell me she was more than displeased with my actions, something that most of the people in the car seemed to share.

“Next time you want to have fun, can you do it with someone other than McCabe, I hardly think she’s a role model for you, considering both of your reckless personas.”

Somehow Katie managed to overhear Sam’s words, a look of complete offence washing over her face.

“I’ll have you know Kerr that she practically begged me.”

Leah shushed Katie with a glare, the guilty look on Katie’s face told me she’d already had to hear a mouthful from our captains, and she would be on the receiving end of another one if she didn’t shut her mouth.

“Mm, sounds like our girl, well I’m going to go collect Alanna, Macca and Caitie, who are all very concerned about your wellbeing and we’ll see you at the hospital, okay?”

“Mm kay, thank you Sammy.”

As soon as the phone call ended I passed my phone back to Kim, relaxing my body back against hers, the actions of the day taking a toll on my body and resulting in a dramatic drop in my energy levels.

When we did arrive at the hospital I was hardly coherent, back on a fever induced cloud that made me hardly conscious. Katie was tasked with carrying me into the ER, Leah not being able to carry me much further than a few feet with her recovering knee injury. When we made it into the ER I was immediately tended to and sent straight into a room. My body was immediately connected to a series of machines and wires.

I fought against the nurses, to the point where Leah had to actually climb into the bed with me to keep me calm, my delusional body unhappy with the cold hands and cords connecting with my body. The contact with Leah though had seemed to calm me enough though for the doctors to be able to do their jobs and connect me up to monitors and IV fluids that my body was in desperate need of. There was a lot of bustling happening around me, but I kept my eyes closed, feeling instantly better when some pain relief and medicine was administered to my body, making me sleepy enough to fade into a deep sleep.

When I woke up I was hit with a reminder of my throbbing headache, my whole body hurt. Chest, ribs, head, it all hurt. I struggled to open my eyes and when I did my headache was only worsened by the light flooding into my room through the gaps in my blinds. I was shocked by the sheer amount of people crowded in my room, a different room to the one I’d fallen asleep in. My eyes flashed across my body, taking in all of the wires that my body was connected to, wires, leads, IV cords, my body was covered in more wires than it was skin. I panicked almost immediately, reaching to pull at the cords but my hands were stopped almost immediately.

“Hey Joey.”

It was Kim’s eyes that caught my own, her deep Scottish accent getting my attention and taking it away from the crawling feeling across my skin that all of the wires were causing.

“W-What happened?”

My eyes were darting across the room, my brain trying to remember what course of events had lead to me being in this position. My eyes caught onto my teammates, who were piled on sofas and chairs in the room.

“You went out in the snow, do you remember that? Katie took you out and you got a chill from it, because your body was vulnerable with the cold you developed pneumonia, pretty serious, you had us all worried for a little bit. Leah and I came to your apartment, because you hadn’t shown up to training and we were all worried about you, and we found you and took you here.”

It was a lot of information to take in, I couldn’t do much more than nod my head at Kim, like a goldfish.

“M’ sorry for worrying you.”

Kim smiled at me, shaking her head.

“It’s okay Joey, all forgiven, we’ll talk about it another day, right now you need to focus on getting yourself better.”

I pursed my lips, eyeing Sam who was sitting at my bedside, looking me up and down. There was a lot of emotions on her face, her jaw was locked and I could see some disappointment and concern in her eyes, amongst other things.

“Sam-.”

“We’ll talk about it another day Joey, I’ve already laid into McCabe about not giving into you, I don’t think Williamson is going to be letting you out of her sight anytime soon. I just want to know why you didn’t call me, or anyone. Sweet, there are so many people around who care about you and you worried us all, had you called anyone when your symptoms had started to show, or even the previous morning this all could have been avoided.”

Sam’s voice was stern, the voice she used when she mad at one of her girls for getting in unnecessary trouble.

“Didn’t want to bother anybody.”

Sam stood up at my reply, taking two short steps to my bedside and looking at Kim.

“Nobody in this room would have felt bothered, you were sick y/n, seriously sick and had Kim or Leah not decided to come and check on you, you could be dead right now, or in the ICU. You are so lucky to have a group of people that genuinely care and love for you and it worries me that you aren’t utlising that, what did I promise your parents when you told them that you were going to be making the move to London?”

I bit down hard on my lip. Sam had always been like my second mom, or older sister, ever since I’d started playing with the Matildas, when I was 15. She’d been a major influence in my life, so when my parents had found out that I had plans to move to North London to play for Arsenal at 19 they were displeased to say the least, I was hardly 18 as well, still a baby. They’d made Sam promise a bunch of things to them, considering we were both in London together.

“That you wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and you’d keep me safe.”

Sam’s jaw locked even more than it previously had, her eyes were dark brown, stormy almost, I could feel the internal conflict she was going through just by looking at them.

“Exactly, so how do you think it makes me feel when you are endangering yourself? It makes me feel like I should be calling your parents and telling them that maybe this wasn’t the best decision, maybe you need another year or two at home before you can live by yourself out here.”

I shook my head at Sam, that was the last thing I wanted. After all, it had taken so much begging with my parents to get me out here in the first place, being sent back practically ensured they’d never let me come back out here.

“Sam, please, this is where I need to be.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that those words are true, on a playing level you should be here. But you continue to prove that you can’t be trusted to make decisions for yourself. Going out in the snow was crazy, not telling anyone you felt sick was crazy. You're not proving to me or your parents that this was a good idea.”

I could feel tears brimming up in the back of my eyes. It had taken a lot of effort to get my parents to let me be here, there was nothing they wanted less than to send their eighteen year old daughter to London, all by herself, playing in a senior women's team.

“Please, please let me stay. I can’t go home, if I go home then that’s the end for me, Perth won’t take me back after how I left. My parents have enough on their plate with six other kids, let alone having to deal with me, please, I need to stay. I’ll make better decisions, I promise, please just let me stay.”

I’d shot up in the bed, tugging the cords and blankets up with me. Sam sat herself down on the edge of my bed, looking at me eye to eye.

“I know you’re sorry, and I really want to believe that you can do this, there is nothing that I want more than for you to be here and proving how amazing you are, but your risking your own health Joey, and I toe the line there. What happens when you get injured and decide not to tell anybody, I know you and I know that you are never going to ask people for help and I can’t be around 24/7 here to look out for you, if I could I would. I can’t trust that you are going to look after yourself when I’m not here.”

I felt a series of big, fat, wet, warm tears drip down my cheek, I felt like shit and all of my dreams were being crushed.

“We’ll look after her, we’ll take her in if we have to. Nobody wants to see y/n/n going home because of this, we’ll look out for her, please don’t make her go home.”

It was Beth’s voice, from the other side of the room that caught my attention. There was a guilty expression across her face, Alessia, Katie, Caitlin and Beth all carrying the same similar guilty expression, my accomplices.

Sam turned to Beth, it was clear she was tossing up her options.

“Beth’s right, she should stay, she’s worked hard enough to stay and we can hardly afford losing any defenders right now. I’ll take her in, she can move into the spare room in my house, I run a tight ship, I’ll keep her under control.”

It was the voice of Leah that was both my saving grace and sent a chill of fear down my spine. Moving in with Leah didn’t exactly sound like my dream situation, I knew that Leah would hold me accountable for my shit, something I wasn’t necessarily ready to deal with. Sam had immense respect for the England captain though, often times she’d expressed to me how much she admired Leah for doing what she did at such a young age, she was stern though, she didn’t forget anything and nothing got past Leah.

“Okay, if she can move in with Williamson then she can stay, this is all stuff we can talk about when you are feeling better though, you need your rest joey, with all those meds running through your body god knows how tired you must be, hm?”

I squirmed a little bit under the covers, not wanting to give into Sam’s words but also not denying that she was right, I did feel tired. Sam’s hand found its way to my cheek, wiping away the tears I had shed and giving me a little smile, the smile she kept for these moments, the rough ones that warranted some kind of assurance that it was all going to be okay.

“Go to sleep Joey, we’ll figure it all out when you are feeling better, right now you need rest, so you can feel better.”

I relaxed back into the uncomfortable hospital pillows, that all of a sudden didn’t feel so uncomfortable to my body, which was slowly starting to fade into a deep cloud of sleep. Sam pressed a kiss to my hairline before sitting back down in her seat and watching me drift off to sleep. Maybe everything wasn’t perfect, maybe I still had things that I needed to learn but I did have one thing, and that was a family that I’d found in my teammates.

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #arsenal x reader #arsenalwfc #kim little #sam kerr #sam kerr x reader #kim little x reader #katie mccabe #alessia russo #beth mead #vivianne miedema #caitlin foord #sickfic

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phoenixyfriend · 9 months

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Hey have a fun AU I came up with the other day after reading a bunch of fics with related tropes

It's a raised Sith AU. Anakin was found by Sidious well before he was found by Qui-Gon. He was raised by the Sith, is a classically horrible monster stalking about TCW to be Vader (mask and all, just as an intimidation factor instead of life support) while Ventress and Grievous and Dooku do their own things in a different section of the war. He's got a Really Fucking Weird dynamic with Obi-Wan, mostly attempting to kill him etc.

At some point, Palpatine allows Anakin and Padme to meet. The romance that blooms is one that Sheev decides is useful to him, so he lets it happen.*

Padme gets pregnant. Sidious arranges for her death. Anakin loses his entire shit and tries to kill Sidious. Obi-Wan is off trying to save Padme, unaware of Anakin getting his remaining limbs cut off by his this-universe Master. (This is important, because Anakin does remember Obi-Wan trying to save Padme.)

So we have Anakin, who was raised Sith, and just lost the only things that have mattered to him since his mom died when he was a kid, and Palpatine has pushed him further into the Dark than he ever has. Anakin… knows more about the Sith Secrets in this universe.

Anakin finds a Sithly Time Machine. Maybe on Malachor. There's an owl? Whatever.

Anakin, someone who's been Vader for the vast majority of his life, wakes up at age nine. Maybe even younger, like six. His mother is already dead at Sidious's hands. He's already roommates with Maul. He's already being trained as a baby Sith.

Anakin, being a 20 year old war veteran, is much better at escaping than Sidious has planned for. He reprograms a medical droid to take out his slave chip, steals a ship, etc. All the stuff that Maul wasn't very good at, and Anakin was too young for, so Sidious didn't have the preventative measures in place for yet.

Anakin heads for the one place and person he thinks he can trust: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(Obi-Wan is still a padawan. But this Baby Sith just declared him Adoptive Teen Dad, so.)

@lizasweetling (all indented bits from here will be hers):

Because Sith. Bad for mental health of the user and generally bad for their environs But also baby. And if hes dragging Maul around no doubt the dude is constantly himself confused why he is here Like yeah, Sidious sucked, and this 6-9yo is way powerful and knowledgeable on the dark side (?????) But why are we going to the Jedi? And not even trying to kill them apparently?????

Anakin is very much being affected by Baby Brain and Baby Endocrine System. He cries a lot more than he should.

I WASN'T THINKING OF HIM BRINGING MAUL BUT YEAH. THAT'S. THAT'S A POSSIBILITY.

Jedi Council trying to decide if this is more "Adult Sith got shrunk" or "child got evil man's memories." Vader wants to know why it even MATTERS. (He didn't actually plan on telling them, but he has very little self control right now.)

The first Good Act he does is tell them where to find Ventress and Ky. (In the original timeline, he viewed Ventress as like. Cool older cousin.)

Vader's right, that distinction does not matter Aaaw, she deserves that, that's nice Maybe she will be like 20% less homocidally traumatized

Anakin is furious when Maul and Obi-Wan pick him up under one arm like a package. He is a GROWN MAN he is an ADULT he was a SITH LORD and about to be a FATHER, he is TOO OLD FOR THIS.

They point out that he is Baby.

😂 sorry lord of evil, you're too baby, have a nap and maybe your feel better. Assuming the crisis on Naboo is still happening, and as such the vote of no confidence is right now, it might be a great time to report Sidious as a Sith lord. Post-escape from Sidious, both he and Maul definitely will need a nap. It's that kinda place.

Oh, it's probably at least a year before. Anakin keeps trying to sneak off to kill the man himself, but the Jedi are more ready for his Sneaking than Mustafar was, so he keeps getting caught before he can reach the Senate.

At one point he tries to just CHARGE the place and you get Mace and Obi-Wan sprinting after him. The News captures videos of this very small child getting chased by an older Padawan and a Master and they are mostly yelling for him to PUT DOWN THE SABER.

(Sidious might see him but what's he going to do? Might cause too many problems for Sidious to be aware of Anakin's presence with the Jedi, though. Best not.)

It's probably more expensive on average to hire an assassin on a child, just in general But on a jedi youngling??? If he can even find someone to do that, it will be so very, ridiculously expensive And likely 70%+ upfront payments

Ahsoka definitely seeks him out. Toddler baby child. She adores him for reasons unclear to anyone and everyone.

!!! Baby has baby!! Vader's probably a little thrown by this. Been a while subjectively since someone just loved him. And not even for like, a reason. Baby Vader coerced into sitting obediently for nap by tired kiddo: [The council liked that]

The number of times that vader could only be convinced to nap by Obi-Wan grabbing him, caging him in his own lap, and forced to Sit Quietly until he just fell asleep like that...

He has things to do, he's not tired 😡😡😡💢 (He's 9. Distances are between 150 and 195% longer when measured with steps, he's hungry (subjectively) all the time, and has only middling coordination He so is too tired)

Anakin doesn't know Qui-Gon at all but he keeps getting stuffed into the man's top because he's just. Small enough to fit.

Like the bomb boobs gif, but it's a small child.

the indignity

You just. You can't let him get too self-important.

Vader is Disgusted every time the pediatric healers try to talk down to him like they do to other 6yos.

The difference between this and other "Vader goes back in time to the Jedi" AUs (like Force of Many Sights) is that this Vader has never been a Jedi, and doesn't know anything about them except how they fight when he's trying to kill their friends.

Also Maul's there.

Because even he has a hard time taking himself seriously when hes so easy to manhandle Rest of the time; I am fear, I am death personified As luggage child: I am so small. The tiniest. I crave violence He's probably very annoyed they keep taking away his saber And hey! Obi gets practice not losing his! Woooo!

Something something Anakin clinging to Maul's back (piggy back ride) and chewing on his head or something stupid like that. Perfect height for head biting.

You know, the classic anime head bite

Maul probably has been nominally talked into this because this 9yo is a powerful darksider But he is also the world's most annoying tiny kid Maul would've thought his phenotype would make him immune to this ridiculousness He was wrong At least the teeth are a bit less pointy than his other little brothers'? Appreciating the little things

tfw your unwanted little brother drags you to what you think is a cult but actually they're way less culty than your last two places so you just stick around to keep an eye on the little shit

Anyway. ObiMaul for this one.

They're peers They're tired They just want to sit down and not have to chase this weird little murder child They have a lot in common 😊

They are all just a little bit stupid, I love them.

Qui-Gon is a Cool Mom (throws condoms at them and books it).

Yeah, that's about as much involvement as would be appreciated They probably did a lot of sparring before the tension broke Which did not relieve said tension, generally made it worse (Competence, athleticism, sweat-) Vader is confused, but probably doesn't mind He's probably glad they're distracting each other from stopping assassinating a certain someone (Which- that is 9yo hubris. He would need help to do that)

I still can't decide where on 6yo-9yo he falls but somewhere in there

Babies means easier hiding in shirt, teenie Ahsoka, and longer for him to convince the Jedi council to do a Sith hunt before the Naboo situation

Also longer for Maul and Obi-Wan to faff about being all Tension

* Vaguely inspired by the backstory of Rulebreaker/Wildheart, which is great but significantly more of a romance fic than this.

#anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #maul #darth maul #obimaul #obi wan and anakin #anakin and obi wan #ahsoka tano #time travel #de aging #star wars #phoenix posts

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red-write-hand · 3 months

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"You're killing people?" "No, I'm killing boys." || thomas shelby x assassin!reader

pairing -> thomas shelby x assasssin!fem!reader

word count -> 2.5k (this took me two weeks)

warnings -> i was watching jennifer's body while i was writing the beginning and i think it accidentally started to seep into my writing, bisexuality??, hella tension, maybe some ooc tommy???, assassin stuff, a lot of dirty thoughts (i mean a lot)

notes -> yeah jennifer's body was a reeeally big influence of this. i had a good idea but this could have died, sorry yall!! also no beta read, we die like peaky fookin' blinders

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE LITERALLY SO HELPFUL Y'ALL HAVE NO IDEA

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An assassin is defined as someone who is paid to kill someone. In this business, you need to pay a handsome price to kill someone as important as Thomas Shelby. It wouldn’t be easy but no one saw a beautiful woman as someone who could kill you, but then again, that was usually the same people who called her sweetheart when passing her in the street. The very same people who would never be able to harass another woman after her. Y/n cut down any man that would hinder her fellow woman. Women too, if she viewed them as a threat. She was completely innocuous. She looked like every washerwoman in Birmingham. No one ever thought she was the one who was slowly taking out Peaky Blinders one by one.

No one saw her go in and no one saw her leave. It was easy for her. Men were becoming easier and easier for her to manipulate. Really, this is truly why she was bisexual. Women were truly better but sometimes she would find that one man who saw her. Saw her for what she was. A soldier who didn't know how to stop what she was doing. She had gotten so good at it that every time that she wanted to stop, another high paying aristocrat or politician would waltz in and give her a stack of cash to do away with their competition and she knew that her rent was due so just had to keep going. She was also supporting her family, all the family she had left after the war. She had grown up with brothers and most had gone to war and come back changed. There was nothing she could do about it. She just had to keep her head held up high and persevere, and persevere she did. She began to get very good at petty crimes, and more importantly getting away with them. Another thing she got good at was blending into the background. Become a nobody. Someone that people could easily see through. An excellent cover for an assassin.

There was another part of her that wanted recognition. Y/N wanted that fame and fortune. Nothing that she could have. Women had to work twice as hard in this world. Especially in the business of murder. Then again, those feminist rallies kept yelling about fucking over the patriarchy, why not instead, poison the patriarchy? Slowly? Maybe in the night? Maybe a little murder could do the feminist cause some good. She seemed to know every woman in this tiny town. She really didn’t but it was quite fun to see the men worry that all the pretty women they felt up would disappear. No one knew she existed and everyone knew her name. She barely knew how everyone knew her name. Maybe she did have a bit of that fame and fortune business. She just hoped that it would lead to women feeling a little safer to walk the streets, knowing that they had a silent protector who was not against a little homicide in the name of female comradery. It always feels a little warmer when you know you have a friend protecting you with a knife in the back of her skirt. It was never outright said but it was only men that saw through her. Women knew she was there. This is why she never took jobs that meant hurting or killing women. If it was a husband, she would leave the money for the widow. She was not going to be an asshole about it. No matter what, she would make sure that no woman would go without help.

She had no qualms about killing men. As much as she loved men, especially tall, dark, and handsome men, they can be a real pain to deal with sometimes. She tried to stay civil but really, how can straight women deal with them all the time? How do they not realize that the best part about married men are their wives?! And god, did the Shelby boys have the best pick of the women! God the women that hung around the Shelby betting shop were proper fit. Or maybe that’s just what drunk men said about them.

Tonight was special. It would be the death date of Thomas Shelby. The people who had paid her to poison him and make it look like a suicide. The only thing was that he was at a gala.

Great.

Using some of her extra earnings and her pay from doing laundry, she bought herself a tight fitting dress and some sparkling jewelry. She stood in front of her mirror and surveyed her body. She wasn’t well endowed at all, really she was the most average looking woman in the country, but not tonight. Tonight she would be the prettiest girl in the room. Tonight she would kill two birds with one stone. She would wreck Thomas Shelby’s public image and she would actually kill the devil. Her. She would be the one to kill the Devil of Small Heath. Oh what joy it would be to sit back and watch the Peaky Blinders scuttle around like sewer rats after their god and king died. They would never know who killed him, well, they would think they knew. She would make it look like a suicide but really, that was easy to stage. She would cry along with everyone else and wipe her tears with the cash she would receive after this job was done.

Stepping out of the car, making sure her dress wasn’t flashing anyone, she made her way up the stairs to the Shelby charity gala. Her dress was short and her faux fur shawl was draped around her shoulders precisely so that she would get all the right looks. She had studied men for too long without knowing what they looked for. Sauntering onto the floor, looking for the guest of honor, her trained ears could pick up the hushed chatter. Everyone here thought she was a prostitute. Figures. A woman dresses the way she wants and people call her a whore. Maybe it's for the better. It would ruin his reputation even more. Be here and be seen talking with a woman who people gossiped was a prostitute? Perfection. She hadn’t even planned this bit.

Finding him was the easy part. Talking was harder. He was surrounded by donors and grifters trying to weedle their way into his pocket. He just hadn’t noticed her yet. She perched herself on the edge of a stool at the bar and ordered what she usually liked to drink on the job. A daiquiri. Easy and plain. Continuing to accentuate her inconsequentiality. She wrapped her crimson covered lips around the rim slowly, watching him circle the room and finally alighting his eyes on her. She turned on her bedroom eyes and ripped more of her drink as she crossed her legs. She was trying to go for ‘come over and see if I’ll take a chance on you’ but really, it was more like ‘come over here and I’ll ruin you before you can finish whatever drink you order to look more casual’. This had worked plenty of times before so she was fairly sure it would work on him. At his core, Thomas Shelby was still a man. A man with a cock. A cock that needed a lot more than a regular man, or so Lizzie Stark told her. She loved Lizzie. Whenever Thomas was done with her, Y/N would always offer her a place to stay and open arms for her to settle in. Stroking through her hair was somehow calming to both of them at the same time.

The room seemed to heat up as he got closer. It really was a toss up if he would guess what she was really here for. Tensing up, she could feel him behind her. Shifting her hair so that it cascaded down her shoulder wasn’t a huge issue but it did wonders for her confidence. Her breath got shallower but gathering all of her courage, her foot spun her barstool to face the looming figure of Thomas Shelby.

“What are you ‘ere for, eh?” The head Shelby took a drag from his cigarette. Giving Y/n a once over, he chuckled. She obviously wasn’t a prostitute but really, he wanted to see what her game was. He was not about to impede a fellow business person while they are trying to do business. She tried to compose herself, tried to keep herself from falling into the endless pools that were his eyes. Endless pools that would ultimately drag her down and bring her to ruin before she could drive her knife into his chest and put an end to the whole ordeal. She could do it right now. She could see the blood seep out of him and see that look of pain that she so dearly needed to see from him. That look of pain that would be payment for all the harm he and his family had caused. She pondered whether or not she should actually fuck him here and now or fake wanting to and kill him just to get it over with. All this nasty business, gross man blood getting on this amazing dress.

“Here on business Mr. Shelby. Lizzie Stark gives her regards.” She would apologize to Lizzie later. Dear, dear Lizzie. Hopefully she would forgive Y/n for this later. She swung her legs around and walked closer to him, dragging a single hand down his chest. The easiest part of her job was having sex. She constantly thought about herself as a female protagonist written by a man made the process a little easier. Molding herself to the wants of the man.

She just wanted to hide away from the world but right now she was on the clock. Laying the charm on heavy and batting her eyelashes. His heart was beating faster and faster. This was getting easier and easier. Now she was divided. It was taking too long. The longer it took, the more attached she got. This is one target she didn't want to get attached to.

“Just because you look fuckin’ gorgeous, doesn’t mean you can just-” She gently plucked the cigarette from his pink lips and took a drag herself. Under her other hand, his pulse raced faster. She beamed at him. This time, she was actually feeling some semblance of happiness. Taking a small step forward, she got as close as she could so the smoke, ebbing and flowing from the smoldering edge of the cigarette, would be the barrier between them. She felt a strong hand at her waist, the hand away from the crowd, so the interaction would still look inconspicuous.

The cigarette hung her from her dark painted lips. They stood an inch away from each other. Each one wanted the other to move first. In his mind, he dreamed of slick thighs, breathy moans, painted breasts, fucked-out expressions, and those perfect gummy walls hugging his cock so well as she screamed in pleasure. In her mind, she dreamed of a perfectly executed mission…and nothing else. Definitely not his perfect jaw and how strong his hands felt at her waist. Definitely the way he was looking at her. Well, at least that meant she was doing what she did best correctly, but still…there was some part of her that had that morbid curiosity. Lizzie had told her what Tommy was like. Rough but loving. Rough enough to satiate himself but since he had taken all this effort to bring you here, he would not snap you in half. Maybe she could do that for one night. That would make a good story. ‘I spent the night with Thomas Shelby and survived’. Definitely something Lizzie would find funny.

Her mind just kept going back and forth in the span of a minute. Does she give in to her curiosity and see what the Devil of Small Heath would do to her or does she put on even more of a show just to ruin his reputation and then pull him outside to finish him off quietly. ‘Pun very much not intended.’ Truly, this was the worst situation to be punny.

To try to keep her mind on the man in front of her, her eyes just kept alighting on his sturdy looking chest. There was something strangely mysterious about what lay under that perfectly pressed tux. Just to be able to slowly pull every layer off of him was tantalizing. Maybe she might.

All of this took place in two minutes. They had gotten impossibly closer. His hands had started to slide down, slowly and even slower as she played with the edge of his tie. Oh how much fun it would be to pull him by his impeccable tie, just for him to land on top of her. This could be very fun.

His thoughts were undressing her, meticulously feeling every curve and every fold, kneading anywhere he could elicit a reaction, kissing, biting, anything she wanted. Feeling her under him. Hearing all those pretty noises as he devoured her completely. He knew that all she wanted to do was destroy his reputation but really? What’s so bad about having a little bit of fun? No one could comment because no one messed with the King.

No one.

They were forcibly shoved together at the hip. His grip was harsh and she was grinning. Sliding the cigarette behind her ear, she gently, temptingly, tantalizingly brushed her plump lips against the edge of his jaw, leaving trace amounts of her lipstick and perfume with it. Giving him one more flash of her sultry eyes and ghosting her hand against his face, ever so delicately holding his jaw, she grabbed her clutch and escaped expertly from his grasp. But not slipping her number into his jacket pocket so he knew where to find her. This was a different kind of mission now. A longer game. A game where she would move up the ranks. Infiltrating the Shelby operation at every level. Finding out their secrets. Knowing what shouldn't be known. She’d make a pretty pound for what she would know.

Of course, there was that added bonus. Now she had her snares in the most powerful man in Birmingham. Now she could manipulate him as she liked. She would make him fall for her completely. Make him promise her the world. Make him believe that she was what she told him. See her as she wanted him to see her. Control his judgment if someone decided to try to sow seeds of doubt into her darling. Making sure that when she was finally ready to stick the gilded knife in his back, that he would smile and tell her that he loved her one last time. Till next time Mr. Shelby, until next time.

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thank you for reading (and if you reblogged/commented, double thanks) !!

@birminghamshelbyboys @pinguwrites @forgottenpeakywriter @hanawrites404 @runnning-outof-time @no-fooking-fighting @no-1peakyfan @hllywdwhre @floralcyanide @cilldistilled @stridingseer @darlingsfandom @mrkdvidal1989 @lunavelha @aphroditeslover11 @henrywintersdearestgirl @thatwitchybitch420 @classicsandfantasy @marilynmonroefanfics @ninja-potato-shelby-solomons @scorpinelle @chellyrps @maxwell-demon @atrwriting @cassius-casim @your-nanas-house @sherwoodknights @munstysmind

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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

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Chapter 12- I Love You. I Know.

Summary: As the end of October approaches, you and Javi learn more about celebrating Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos together. After a sleepless night, and a Halloween party at the Murphy's, Javi begins to open up to you about his past.

Word Count: 15.6K (I'm sweating)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, semi-public sex (Oh the poor Murphy's...), PTSD/Anxiety around grief, loss and Javi's past, some angst/tension, mentions of drinking/being drunk (Steve is getting PLASTERED), mentions of food/eating, SO MANY STAR WARS REFERENCES, literally this chapter made me sob while I was writing it, editing it, and re-reading it, I am SO sorry

A/N: You guys. Holy shit. This chapter really had me in my feels. This chapter was def a labor of love, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!! Thank you for as always for all you kind words, you truly, truly, TRULY have no idea how much your support means to me 😭💖 Also please don't kill me after you finish reading this chapter I PROMISE *things* are happening so soon I can literally taste it, but I needed for this chapter to happen first, and you would be silly to think that *things* didn't get its own whole ass chapter and I am just as excited as you AH

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

The excitement of October’s conclusion was in the air, and the joys of getting to celebrate what you hoped would be the first of many holidays with Javi was at the forefront of your mind. While the end of summer meant school was here and your carefree days were gone until next June, October meant it was time for one of your favorite holidays- Halloween. It was one of your most cherished things to celebrate as a kid, and even still as an adult. The memories of jumping into leaf piles off your swingset with your brothers, dressing up in goofy, homemade costumes to trick-or-treat (because your mom was not about to buy 4 new sets of costumes every single year), carving pumpkins, and stealing as many of your brother’s Kit Kat bars as you could without getting caught, filled your heart with a warmth and joy that you couldn’t quite describe. While the 80 degree temperatures and lack of bright reds and yellows painted across the leaves falling from their trees was much different from the Chicago Octobers you were accustomed to, it hadn’t stopped you from heading full steam into Halloween.

“So do you have any thoughts on what we should be for Steve and Connie’s? I have no problem going out to buy stuff for costumes, but I can already hear my mom yelling at me for wasting my money on cheaply made clothes I’m gonna wear for 5 hours when I have something perfectly good in my closet.” You rolled your eyes as you shuffled through the hangers, Javi sitting on the edge of your bed folding the laundry you were working on putting away.

The two of you had gladly accepted the invitation from Steve and Connie to spend the weekend with them in San Antonio, as the Murphy’s planned to host a Halloween party at their house for their friends and co-workers, giving you and Javi a chance to have a fun weekend out of town together.

“Hmmmm?” He asked, looking up at you as you grabbed a few shirts, examining them for costume potential. “We’re dressing up for this thing?”

“Yeah, that’s like, the whole point of Halloween, dummy.” You giggled, throwing a few options on the floor before making your way over to your pants. “Didn’t you dress up as a kid for Halloween?”

Unlike yourself, Javi had spent his whole life celebrating Día de los Muertos, Halloween having nowhere near as much relevance to him as it did to you, spending the end of October and first days of November gathering with his family to spend the day making Pan de Muerto (Day of the Dead sweet bread), watching the parades on the streets of Downtown Laredo before visiting the cemetery where his grandparents were buried, decorating their graves in cempasúchil (marigold flowers), candles and photographs with his primos (cousins). Since his mom had passed, Javi hadn’t been home to celebrate with his family, and had almost forgone the tradition completely during his time in Colombia, the pain and loss of his mother and the solemn sadness of celebrating alone leading him to try his best to forget about the holiday all together.

“Uh, no, not, not really. Didn’t really do Halloween, isn’t really as much of a thing down here. My family always celebrated Día de Los Muertos instead.” He replied, almost embarrassed by his answer, not wanting to damper your excitement as you dug through your closet for costumes.

Your heart sank to your stomach, feeling awful that you hadn’t even taken into consideration that Javi's traditions around this time of year were completely different from what you were used to. The two of you had never really talked about how you wanted to celebrate future holidays, and always had wanted to make sure that the important parts of your lives were celebrated equally. Javi hadn’t said anything after you had spent the past few days putting up Halloween decorations around your apartment, and now you felt like an idiot assuming he had spent his whole life celebrating just like you.

“Oh… Shit. Javi, I’m so sorry, if you don’t wanna do costumes, we don’t have to, you just hadn’t said anything about Día de Los Muertos so I just assumed that-”

“Baby, it’s okay.” He pushed himself up off the bed, the width of his broad palms wrapping around your hips, trying to ease the guilt he could tell was rapidly consuming you. “You’re right, I never told you about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything to celebrate it, and I haven’t been home for it since I’ve gotten back from Colombia. I just- I don’t really know how to feel about it, I guess. The last time I did anything for it was before my mom died. I was never able to bring myself to do anything about it while I was gone, and I guess now I just feel really shitty that was the way I decided to handle it.” It broke your heart to see the pain in his eyes, pulling yourself closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his stomach, leaning your head against his chest. It was then, the realization had hit you too- This would be your first year of holidays without Patrick. You didn’t know as much as you would have liked to about Día de Los Muertos, but you did know that it was to celebrate the lives of loved ones you’d lost, a feeling that you and Javi were both all too familiar with.

“Listen…” You raised your head, looking up at him, arms still intertwined around his waist. “I don’t- I don’t wanna make you do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. I guess this is the first time we’ve ever really talked about this kind of stuff. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Jav, and that means celebrating the things that are special to both of us. The things that are important to you are important to me too. I want our lives for us, for our future family, to be filled with all the things we care the most about, whether that means keeping old traditions or making our own new ones. It would mean a lot to me to get to celebrate Día de los Muertos with you, and if it’s okay, I would love to sprinkle in some Halloween too, because I’m fucking dying to carve a pumpkin.”

You smiled up at him as his hand slid under your jaw, his thumb tracing across your cheek as he tried his best to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. It took everything in him to not ruin his plans, wanting to run into the bedroom, grab the ring out of his sock drawer and propose to you that very instant. Even after all this time, Javi still couldn't believe that he was the person you wanted to share the rest of your life with. That you wanted to intertwine your past, present, and future with his, to have a life, a family, together that the two of you could cherish forever. Never in a million years had he assumed he’d be anywhere close to where he was today, holding the world’s most beautiful, perfect woman in his arms, as she told him how she wanted nothing more than to build a family and spend the rest of her days with him.

“Osita… I fucking love you so much, you know that?” He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and deep kiss, your heart racing as he pulled you in tighter.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess, just a little bit…” You giggled, poking fun at him, considering not a day had passed since the first night he had said it that Javi hadn’t told you just how much he loved you.

“Shut up, you dork.” He chuckled, making you squeal as he picked you up, playfully shaking you in his grasp before setting you back down. “I’d love nothing more, Hermosa. I don’t know how the fuck you’re supposed to carve a pumpkin or what the hell you have planned for these costumes, but I’m all in. I want it all with you, Osita. Thank you.”

“Of course. For as much or as little as you want to do for Día de los Muertos, I’m all in too. I’m gonna be honest, I love Hallowen. Not as much as Christmas, but it’s a close second. It means you’re gonna have to trust me with a giant ass knife and cover yourself in pumpkin guts, though.”

“My trust is quickly starting to fade. Seriously though, what the hell are we supposed to dress up as?” He raised an eyebrow at you, nodding over to the pile of clothes you had pulled from your closet, now piled on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some ideas.”

The weeks leading up to the holidays had made for fun at home date nights, the both of you genuinely looking forward to learning about the traditions you had both held so dear to your hearts. Almost every night after work, you had done something to celebrate the events leading up to the day. You had shown Javi a few of your favorite Halloween movies, including It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Beetlejuice, and Ghostbusters, very adamantly insisting to him that those movies were about as scary as you were going to get, blaming your brothers for scarring you after forcing you to watch The Exorcist at the ripe age of 7 years old. In addition to the movies, you had told him about other funny Trick-Or-Treating stories from your childhood, Javi’s favorite being how your brothers, (being the ruthless idiots they were) paid one of their friends in all of their halloween candy to jump out of a bush dressed as a terrifying old lady to scare the absolute shit out of you, and making you quite literally pee your pants. In return Javi shared his favorite memories of cooking in the kitchen with his mom as she made Pan de Muertos for his family, the two of you even attempting to make it one of the nights after work, milling about the kitchen together as Javi told you about his family you had yet to meet, or had passed away long before you.

After a lengthy hunt, you were able to find pumpkins, bringing them to Chucho’s house to carve them since you had nowhere to put them inside your apartment. You offered him the rest of your Pan de Muertos in exchange for a place to work on your pumpkins, and while he gladly accepted the bread, the three of you knew Chucho was always happy to have you and Javi over, regardless.

“So tell me, mija,” Chucho spoke in between mouthfuls of sweet bread, rocking back and forth in his chair, “is there a meaning behind carving the pumpkins, or is it just for fun?”

“Just for fun! Okay, it looks like we’re ready, you want me to show you how to do it, or just let you go for it?” You smiled at Javi, the two of you sitting cross legged on Chucho’s porch, pumpkins open in front of you.

“You just scoop them out, right?” Javi questioned, looking into the pumpkin with an unsure grimace. “It seems like there's a lot in here, Osita. I have to get all of it out?”

“Yeah, or else you can’t see the design when you carve it. C’mon you big baby, just stick your hand in there and pull the guts out!” You laughed, digging your hand into your pumpkin, scooping out hearty globs of pumpkin guts, slopping them into the bucket Chucho had set out for you. Reluctantly, Javi joined, you and Chucho both absolutely dying at Javi’s face as his hand met the squishy fibers inside his pumpkin.

“Jesus, that feels fucking gross!” He laughed, shaking his head as he threw some of the seeds and strings into the trash next to him.

“You need me to do it for you?” You giggled, flicking a pumpkin seed at him as he winced with the second handful he pulled out.

“No, cabrón (asshole), I can do it.” Javi grumbled as he rolled his eyes at you, the both of you scooping hearty handfuls of goop.

“You hear that, Chucho? Calling me an asshole because he’s too scared to pull out pumpkin guts.” You looked back at his dad, giving him a playful grin, his smile already wide from the enjoyment of watching the two of you. With your back turned to Javi, you hadn’t noticed the small handful of seeds he had collected in his hand, lining up his arm to aim right at the back of your head. “I can’t believe that- HEY!” You whipped your neck around, running your hand over the back of your neck, picking seeds and strings out of your hair, seeing Javi snicker to himself as your jaw dropped open in shock. “Did you seriously just throw pumpkin guts at me?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, must have been a ghost.” He shrugged, smirking to himself before digging his hand back into his pumpkin.

“You see this?!” You looked back at Chucho, pointing your finger at Javi, pretending to be stern, although your laughter quickly escaped. “Absolutely ridiculous, I swear.”

“Javier, that is no way to treat your future esposa! (Wife) No quiero mis nietos ser cubierto en calabaza! Me encantáran en cualquier caso, pero todavía! (I don’t want my future grandchildren covered in pumpkin! I will love them either way, but still!)” Chucho scolded with a smirk, you and Javi silently smiling to each other at the thought of one day doing this with your own children. Javi had tried to stop fighting off his dad’s comments about grandkids a while ago- Chucho knew just as well as the two of you that he would have his grandchildren soon enough.

“Ella lo pído… (She asked for it…)” Javi muttered under his breath, shooting his gaze up at you as he felt cold goop hit the side of his cheek, wiping the pumpkin you had just thrown at him off with the back of his hand, watching you smirk silently to yourself as you continued to scoop out your pumpkin.

“Ahora… Estamos a mano. (And now… We’re even.)”

The 3 of you chatted on the porch, the sky now painted a dark black, filled with twinkling constellations above as you finished carving your pumpkins. Yours, a cute ghost with a little smiley face, and Javi’s, what he had tried to convince you and Chucho was also a ghost, even though it looked more like he had just carved a squiggly hole in the middle of his. It took a little prodding and convincing, but as you all talked about how the Peña family had spent many a Día de los Muertos, you and Chucho were able to get Javi to agree to go visit his mom’s gravesite on the Sunday after you got back from Steve and Connie’s party. Chucho had even promised to keep his tias, tios, and primos (aunts, uncles, and cousins) completely out of the picture this year, wanting to give Javi all the time and space he needed to go see his mom for the first time since her funeral. He was reluctant at first, riddled with the guilt of leaving her unvisited all these years, but as he felt the gentle squeeze of your hand, your silent reassurance was all he needed to know that you would be by his side, every step of the way. As you said your goodbyes, Chucho hugged you just a little extra tighter than normal, as if to thank you for everything you had done for his son, and just how thankful he was to have you in his life, too.

Even though the Murphy’s had very graciously offered to let you and Javi stay on Friday night as well as Saturday, both Steve and Connie very much understood when you had told them on the phone that the only thing that you wanted to do after coming home from the chaos of managing an elementary school Halloween party was take a very, very long nap. You and Javi had spent the night ordering pizza and watching Young Frankenstein, only lasting about 20 minutes into the movie before you were dead asleep, snoring against Javi’s chest, still dressed in If You Give A Mouse A Cookie costume from earlier today. Carrying you to bed and undressing you from your mouse ears and oversized overalls, Javi curled into bed next to you, pulling your body against his as he stared at the ceiling. Despite how hard he tried to fall asleep, he laid there, wide awake as ever, as his head raced with the tornado of thoughts brewing inside his brain.

Javier Peña had never really considered himself to be an anxious person. For most of his life, he couldn’t be. For the sake of his job, the sake of his family after his Mom passed, Javi had survived the only way he had known how- Block it out, and ignore it. And so far, that strategy had seemed to bode for him pretty darn well. But that was before he had anyone who depended on him, cared about him, anyone who made his life worth living for. That was before he had met you. Now, Javi found himself at the crossroads of a moment he had been waiting for since the moment he had first laid eyes on you. Something that brought him absolute joy and sheer terror at the same time- Javier Peña was going to propose to you, and he was an anxious fucking mess.

If that in itself wasn’t enough, things at the Laredo County Sheriff's Department had been an absolute shit show. Mexico was the only thing on anyone’s radar, making for long days and high tension at the office, trying to do anything to slow the spread of the cartel’s influence across the border. Day after day, report after report, it felt like the department was drowning in the endless shitty news of new death tolls, record breaking trafficking stats, and lack of control as cocaine moved across the Rio Grande at a groundbreaking pace. Even though he found himself even further removed from Mexico than he ever was in Colombia, he couldn’t help but feel that painful, searing wrench in his gut when he sat down to really think about it.

You.

Spending your lives together.

Having a family.

Protecting his wife and kids.

The things he would do to keep you safe.

The terrible things he had done he had justified were keeping other people safe.

The imagines of the things he wish he could unsee.

The pain and hurt he wished he could take back.

The fear of what he was capable of doing.

So with a knot in his chest from work, a ring hidden away in his sock drawer, and the beginnings of a plan to ask the woman he loved more than life itself to marry him, Javi coped with the weight of his stress the only way he knew how. He couldn’t fucking sleep.

The thoughts played in his mind on repeat, torturing him with every loop around his brain. He tried his best to close his eyes, to empty his head for a moment of peace, but no matter how much he wished he could have willed himself to sleep, it was no use. By the time the alarm clock on his nightstand read 2:05 AM, Javi had completely given up on the idea of rest for the night, quietly making his way out of bed to go wander around the living room. It wasn’t long before you too were also awake, rolling over in your sleep to find Javi’s space in the bed cold and empty. Rubbing your eyes and propping yourself up against your pillow, you scanned around the darkness of your room as you came to, realizing that Javi was nowhere to be found. Draping one of the blankets from your bed over you, you crept into the hallway, greeted by the soft light of one of the living room lamps painting shadows against the wall.

“Javi, are you up?” Your voice still soft and sleepy, rubbing your hand along your face, squinting from the sudden brightness that lit up the room.

“Osita, baby, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry. Go back to bed, okay?” Javi shot up from the couch, setting down whatever book he had been half focused on reading as he watched your bed headed figure meander into the living room.

“No, it’s okay.” You grumbled, holding out your blanket covered arms for Javi to melt his body into yours, wrapping you in a tight hug. You pressed your head into the bare skin of his chest, snaking your hands around his waist as he planted his lips against the the top of your head, burying his nose in your tangled hair. “Baby, what’s going on? Why can’t you sleep? I’m worried about you, Jav.”

“I’m… Yeah, I’m okay, Hermosa. Just a lot on my mind.” He sighed, his exhale still buried in your hair as he savored the smell of you, still lingering even in your sleepy state.

His pause alone was enough to know okay wasn’t the word that you would use to describe Javi right now. His words were burdened and fatigued, making it clear that whatever was on his mind was weighing on him more heavily than he wanted to admit.

“Are you sure? Javi, if you wanna talk about anything, you know I’m always here, right?”

You wanted so desperately to pry. Everything in you had a feeling that whatever was keeping him up were entangled in the parts of his dark parts past, the last secrets holding up the final wall between the two of you. You knew from your brothers how hard it was to talk about the pain and suffering they had witnessed, and begging them to talk about it before they were ready only seemed to make it worse. Hell, after Patrick died, it felt like you didn’t sleep for weeks, and it had taken you months to open up about it. You knew Javi hurt, and as much as you wanted to, digging deeper into the things that plagued him in his restless nights wasn’t what he needed right now. Right now, he just needed someone to be there for him.

“Is there anything I can do, Javi? I just wanna help.” The breath of your sympathetic whispers were hot against Javi’s skin, squeezing your arms to pull him as close to you as he could. He paused for a moment, letting out another deep breath as cradled the back of your head with his palm, running his hands through your hair.

“Will- Will you stay up with me? Just a little bit longer?” His voice trembled as you turned your head to lock your eyes with his, the gentle nod of your head bringing him a moment of relief.

“Of course, baby. Of course I’ll stay up with you. Do you wanna turn on the TV or put on a movie? Sometimes that helps me sleep.” You stretched your arms over your head, scrunching your face as you yawned before tugging your blanket tighter around your body.

“Believe me, Hermosa, I know it does.” He let out a soft chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Oh shit, yeah that is true. I don’t even think I made it halfway through Young Frankenstein tonight, which is a crime. It’s such a good movie. I don’t even remember getting into bed.” You yawned again, this time taking one of your blanket covered fists to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake.

“Well, if you give a mouse pizza and a movie after a long day at school, then she’ll probably need her boyfriend to carry her to bed because she’s so tired.” Now awake enough, Javi’s cute jab at your costume for school made you let out a little giggle, giving him a little shove with your blanket wrapped body. “Why don’t we turn the rest of it on, so you can finish watching?”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you, Javi.” You grumbled, pouting up at him, considering he had just asked you to stay awake with him.

“It’s okay. As long as I have you by me, I’ll be alright, I promise.” Reluctantly, you nodded in agreement, plopping yourself on the couch as Javi turned on the TV, rewinding the VHS tape to the point where you had fallen asleep earlier before joining you, draping his arm around your shoulder as you tucked in your knees and scooted closer to him. You sat for a few minutes in silence, letting the sounds of the movie fill the background. As you turned your head to look up at Javi, you could tell that even though his eyes were pointed at the screen, there was no way he was really watching the movie. Reaching up your hand, you ran your fingers across the length of his strong jaw, his stubble scratching against your palm, forcing him to look back at you. Your eyes met his, the sweet, chocolate brown looking back at you, with a confusing mix of exhaustion, guilt, want and helplessness. You brought your face closer to his, your lips now only inches apart as your whispers danced against his mouth, desperate to find something to ease his pain.

“What do you need, Javi? Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

His tongue swept against his bottom lip, taking one last shaky breath before his words left his body with his exhale.

“You. I need you.”

His hands found their way to the bare skin of your thighs, his fingertips barely brushing against your flesh as he traced his way up to your torso, toying with the hem of one of his shirts that always looked so much better on you than him. Pressing his palm against the soft curves of your stomach, he tugged at the waistband of your sleep shorts, causing you to shift your body so he could slide them down your legs. Reaching over towards his lap, you grasped at his boxers, feeling him already half hard under the fabric as you rubbed your hand against him. Javi held your hips, slowly guiding you to straddle him as you kicked your shorts off your feet, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Slowly, you began to grind deeper into his lap, the feeling of him now fully hard beneath you. Gently prompting you to raise your arms over your head, Javi lifted your shirt, leaving you bare as he dropped it next to your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Javi rasped, pressing languid kisses against your neck and collarbone as you ran your hands against the width of his broad shoulders.

“Of course, baby.” Your reply low and horse as you began to drag the fabric of his boxers lower and lower, finally letting his cock spring free as his waistband pushed past. You brought your palm to your mouth, licking a long, wet strip across it before wrapping it around his length, thumbing over the precum already leaking from his tip. Javi tilted his head against the back of the couch as you twisted your wrist, stroking his cock, letting out a hushed moan before sitting back up to watch you.

“You’re fucking perfect, Osita. I don’t deserve you.” He dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your ass, his sweet, brown eyes locked on yours as you pressed against him, nibbling at his ear.

“You deserve everything, Javi. I could give you everything in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Javi grasped at your face, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss, his voice shaky and lustful as his mouth parted with yours before he spoke.

“I don’t need anything besides you, Osita. Eres mi todo. Estás todo lo que necesito. (You are my everything. You’re all I’ll ever need.) He shuttered, letting out a low groan as you continued to rub your hand along his length, Javi now reaching down to trace lazy circles around your clit before dipping his fingers inside your wet heat. His fullness made you whimper, wrapping tighter around his cock as you stroked him, now bucking your hips against his hand as his fingers curled, bumping against the spongy spot that made you lose control. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so wet.

“Mhmmmmm.” You gasped, rapidly nodding your head as his digits pulsed inside you, your cunt already drenched, desperate to feel the fullness of his dick, despite the thickness of his fingers. Carefully, you lifted your hips, moving yourself closer to him as you ran your fingers through the soft ends of his sleepy curls. Sitting up on your knees, Javi removed his hand as he watched you hover over him, his palms roaming to your hips as you guided his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before lining him up with your entrance. His jaw went slack as you lowered down on to him, taking your time as you savored the stretch of every sweet inch until you had bottomed out at his base.

“Fuckkk, baby.” He mewled, gently guiding his hands against your hips as you dragged yourself up along his length before headfully sinking back down, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix with each movement. Javi nipped at your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down your collarbone before stopping at your breasts, flicking this tongue along each of your pebbled nipples as you pushed deeper into his lap, whimpering at his touch. “My sweet girl, always taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me, baby. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Javi pulled you in tighter, caging his chest against yours as his arms wrapped around the small of your back as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” His words were desperate and needy against your bare skin, digging your fingers into his dark curls as you swirled your hips around his cock.

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.” You moaned as felt Javi shift his weight, thrusting upwards as he buried himself deep inside you. His fullness had you digging your nails into the nape of his neck, your body melting into his with each push and pull against each other. You could feel the all too familiar tingle creeping up your legs and through the base of your spine as Javi’s hand found its way to circle around your clit, already throbbing as the curled hair around his base brushed against your sensitive nerves. The lewd noises of your moans and tangled bodies drowned out the sounds of the TV behind you, practically hearing how wet you were as Javi cock slipped in and out of your heat, his pace pounding as he punched into you. You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, arousal pooling in your belly, Javi knowing you were close as you whimpered into the crook of his neck. “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Cum for me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Javi’s fingers rubbed faster along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone.

“Javi, Javi- fuck- Javi, Jav-ahhhhhh.” You could feel yourself gush around him, crying out his name as you reached your high, your legs shaking and fingers digging into his skin, pleasure flowing through your veins.

“That’s it, Hermosa. Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too, fuck myself so deep inside you. My perfect girl. Mierda- Quiero que seas mío para siempre, mi amor. Solo tú, por siempre y para siempre. (Shit- I want you to be mine forever, my love. Only you, forever and always). Fuck me, I- fuckkkk.” Javi hissed as he buried himself deep in your hilt, spilling every drop of his spend against your walls. You could feel the mixture of the both of you dripping down your thighs, soaking Javi’s lap as you slumped into his body, your heart racing as the damp curls of his hair pressed against your shoulder. You both sat there for a moment, letting your chests rise and fall together in sync as you came to. “Fuck me, Osita. I could stay like this forever, baby.”

“You and me both. Although, I feel like that would make things awfully inconvenient for the both of us.” Your soft, sleepy giggles making Javi smile as he ran his fingers though the twisted ends of your hair. Carefully, you lifted yourself up, hissing at the loss of Javi inside you.

“Thank you, Osita.” Javi whispered, tenderly circling his thumb along your jaw as you curled up next to him.

“For what?”

“Just- fuck, you’re so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. So, I just- thank you. Thank you for being everything I need.” Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, Javi pulled you tighter, holding you in his arms as you leaned against him.

“I’ll always be here for you, Javi. I promise.”

You hoped he knew. That he knew your words were true. That when the time came for him to open up to you, letting you into the painful past that loomed above him, that you wouldn’t run. You would be right by his side, just as you were right now.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Javi chuckled as you twisted in the passenger seat, stretching your arms over your head, scrunching your face, letting out a lengthy yawn.

“Fuck, how long was I asleep for? How much longer do we have left? Sorry, I wasn’t planning on sleeping that long, I just wanted to take a nap for a little while we drove.” You ran your hands over your face, looking out at the bright Texas sun shining over the neat suburban neighborhood you now found yourself driving through. Javi reached over across the center console, rubbing his hand along your thigh as he chuckled to himself.

“Baby, I knew from the moment you fell asleep you were gonna be out for the rest of the drive, it’s okay. I was just worried I was gonna have to wake you up in the Murphy’s driveway.” You grumbled as you looked over at Javi, giving him a playful swat against his arm, shaking your head, now emerging from your post nap fog.

“Well if we weren't up fucking at 2:30 in the morning, perhaps I wouldn’t be so tired, hmmmm?”

Javi rolled his eyes as you poked fun at how the both of you had found yourselves last night, trying to ease Javi’s sleeplessness. While your solution had worked enough to ease him back to bed, it had now left you wide awake, wondering what had been going through Javi’s head, torturing him enough to keep him up. It had also meant that the two of you had slept in much longer than you intended, leaving later than planned for Steve and Connie’s. The two of you had quickly packed your things and hit the road, stopping to grab lunch on the way before you found yourself dead asleep next to Javi for the last hour and a half of your journey to San Antonio. With only a few minutes now left in your drive, you peered out the window, admiring the houses that lined the quiet streets of the Murphy’s neighborhood.

“This is a cute subdivision.” You smiled over at Javi, admiring the houses, charming and inviting as they were freshly decorated from Halloween.

“Yeah, it is pretty nice.” He grinned back, wrapping his palm around your thigh, giving your leg a little squeeze. He took a deep breath, his voice now shifting in tone, becoming more shaky and nervous. “Would you uh- would you, um, wanna live in a neighborhood like this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, the houses are all really close together. I spent so much of my life in the city, and even at my house growing up, everything always felt so cramped. After coming here, especially after seeing your ranch, I don’t know, I would love to be somewhere with more space. But that’s a big ask, so, maybe one day if it works out, I guess.” You reached over, rubbing your hand along Javi’s arm, your soft smile meeting his tender gaze as he smirked, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, one day.”

Taking a last turn down one of the neighborhood streets, the two of you pulled up to the quaint two story home belonging to the Murphy’s. Turning off the ignition, Javi paused for a moment, grinning to himself as he ran the hand resting on your leg up to your face, cupping your check as his eyes roamed the length of your body, taking every inch of you in as his sweet brown eyes consumed you. “I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” Both of your heads tilted, your lips gently pressing against one anothers as you traced your hand through Javi’s dark curls, pulling him closer into you. You could feel his smile against your mouth as his tongue barely swiped against your bottom lip, the two of you so lost in the moment, you hadn’t even seen Steve make his way out of the house to greet you, let alone the fact that he was now standing at the driver’s side door, hands on his hips as he watched your impromptu makeout session in Javi’s truck.

“You two lovebirds want help bringin’ your bags in, or do I need to give you a minute?” Steve chuckled to himself as you and Javi shot up, hearts racing and faces going white hearing his distinct drawl and rapid tapping at the driver’s side window. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Javi placed one more soft kiss on your forehead before promptly turning around to flip off Steve and opening the driver’s side door. “You two are worse than a pair of horny teenagers, I swear.” You could hear Steve still snickering to himself as you exited out your side of the car, making your way over to find Javi and Steve in a tight hug, lovingly patting each other on the back.

“Fuck off, Murph.” Javi shook his head against Steve’s embrace, pulling away to grab your two bags from the backseat.

“Listen, I’m not the one makin’ out in my driveway.” Steve shrugged as you sheepishly emerged from your side of the truck, smiling at you as grimaced at him.

“He started it…” You glanced over at Javi, you and Steve now both giggling as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Of course he did, wouldn’t put anything past this old bastard. How ya doin’ sweetheart? Good to see the both of you, we’re really glad you guys could make it.

“She’s doing great after the hour and a half nap she took on the way here.” Javi interjected, slamming the truck door behind him, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

“Whatever, you meanie. In my defense, I was not planning to sleep that long, and I think Halloween exhaustion got the best of me.” You shot Javi a quick wink, trying to bite down on your lip before turning back to face Steve.

“Listen, I don’t blame ya. I’m fuckin’ exhausted after trick-or-treating with 3 kids, let alone tryin’ to keep ‘em wrangled at school all day. I love those girls, but I don’t think I could've gotten them in my parents car fast enough when they came to pick ‘em up this morning. Here, come on in, I won’t make you stand out in the driveway all day, unless you need to make out more.”

As you stepped into the Murphy home, you were greeted by an abundance of Halloween streamers and banners hanging in the living room and up the stairwell to the second floor, along with a few Barbie dolls and accessories scattered across the entryway, nearly stepping on one as you came through the door. You could smell the sweet scent of something baking in the kitchen as Connie came rushing through the hallway, arms outstretched to greet you and Javi. “Oh it’s so good to see you two, thank you so much for coming!” Connie squeezed you and Javi in a tight hug before she backed away, kicking one of the toys on the floor across the room. “Sorry about the Barbies, I told the girls to clean up before they left for their grandparents this morning but I think all 3 of them are still running on a sugar high from last night and that obviously didn’t happen.”

“Thank you so much for having us! Don’t worry about it at all, I totally understand! Javi was just telling me on the way over how much he was hoping the girls had Barbies he could play with anyways!” The 3 of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as you gave him a smirk and a little nudge.

“Fuck, I forgot how funny she was Jav.” Steve snickered to himself, picking up one of the Barbies and tossing it across the room into one of the toy baskets along the wall. “Seriously though, we are really glad you guys could make it. Your birthday party was fun as hell, old man. Glad to be close enough to actually see each other and do stuff like this again.”

Before Javi would respond, you all jumped, startled by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping rapidly from the other room. “Oh crap, sorry, I gotta grab the cupcakes out of the oven!” Connie grimaced apologetically, making her way back to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” You asked, excited to spend more time with Connie.

“Oh my gosh actually if you could help with frosting the cupcakes that would be amazing. I made these yesterday for Olivia and Abby’s class parties, and I had no idea it was gonna take so long and was worried I wasn’t going to have enough time for all of them before the party! Thank you!”

“Of course!” You replied, grinning at her before following her lead to the kitchen, giving a little wave as you disappeared around the hall, looking back at Steve and Javi. “Have fun, you two.”

Steve paused for a moment until the both of you were out of sight, waiting to forcefully slap his hand against Javi’s chest, making him groan from the unexpected pain.

“What the fuck was that for, you jackass?” Javi winced, glaring at Steve.

“Where the fuck’s the ring, man?! Steve hissed through gritted teeth, looking back at Javi in disappointment. “I thought you were gonna fuckin’ do it after you got back from Chicago and met her family?! I thought everything was all good with- oh shit, did something happen with the ho-”

“Shhhhhh! You fuckin’ idiot, please, talk louder, I don’t think the people at the end of the street could hear you.” Javi looked around the corner, clenching his jaw, praying that you hadn’t heard anything from the kitchen.

“I’m not that fuckin’ loud… Shit, what the fuck happened then?” Steve grumbled, looking over at Javi with concern.

“Can we maybe talk about proposal plans somewhere that’s not right by the woman I’m trying to propose to?” Running his thumb over his balled fists, Javi’s eyes darted back and forth, staying on the lookout for your return.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll show you where the guest room is and then you can tell me.” Steve motioned up the stairs, Javi trailing behind with both your bags draped around his shoulders

“Was I really that fuckin’ loud?”

“…Have you heard yourself talk?”

“So how’s everything been going at work? There definitely was a full moon sometime in the past week because things were crazy at the hospital, I’m sure they had to be equally as bad at an elementary school.” You and Connie giggled as you squeezed a dollop of orange frosting onto one of the cupcakes before taking one of the little bags to pipe on eyes and a mouth to make it look like a pumpkin.

“Oh my god, I think it must have been on Wednesday, I had a boy cut another girl’s hair with scissors and then had to call another parent because her daughter bit another kid at recess pretending to play werewolves. I felt really bad we didn’t come last night, I was exhausted after our Halloween party, I fell asleep on poor Javi at like, 8 o’clock.”

Although you found yourself laughing with Connie again, you couldn’t help but shake the uncomfortable feeling you had in your gut as you thought about after you had woken up in the middle of the night to find Javi wide awake and distressed. You carefully set down your spatula, taking a deep breath before glancing over at Connie, still frosting next to you. “Hey, uh, Connie? Can, um- Can I ask you something?” Connie immediately sensed the shift in your tone, putting down her cupcake.

“Of course, honey. What’s going on?”

“Did um, did- Did Steve ever- ever talk to you? About all the stuff that happened in Colombia? I mean like, I know you were there, but I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to ask, this is probably way too personal, I-” You could feel yourself shrinking, retracting in embarrassment at your overly intrusive question, unable to finish your thought before Connie cut you off, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, honey…” Her eyes were filled with sympathy as they looked back at yours, letting out a sigh before she responded. “Did something happen?” You began to nod your head no, even though you could feel the words yes burning in your throat. You took another shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears now welling in your eyes as you spoke.

“No I mean- well, yeah, I guess. Last night, I woke up and Javi wasn’t in bed. He was out in the living room and I could tell that something was bothering him. I don’t know- maybe it was nothing. I just- when my brothers came back from active duty, there were a lot of things that kind of just went unspoken. I knew it was hard for them to talk about. Charlie handled it okay, but my brother Patrick never wanted to talk to anyone about what happened, and it just- I don’t know Connie, I don’t think Javi would ever do anything stupid like he did, but- fuck- it scares me sometimes. I know Javi’s done things that he’s probably not proud of, and I get it’s part of the nature of what his job was. I don’t care. I really don’t. People do shitty things when they’re put in shitty situations. But he never talks about it. Ever. Does… Does he not trust me? I care about him so much, Con. More than anything. I get so worried about him.”

Your tears were now streaming down your cheeks, leaving your face wet as you wiped the back of your hand across your skin to try and do some form of damage control before Connie embraced you, pulling you in for a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around you. “Oh sweetheart. Of course he trusts you. When Steve came back, he was a mess. I don’t think it really all hit him until he was finally home. I guess you’re right, it was different because I was there, but even then, there were things that happened that I didn’t know about. After begging and begging him, I finally got him to go to see someone and it really helped, but even now, there’s times where it still creeps up on him. Honey, Javi loves you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day he was in love as he is with you. If he’s anything like Steve, he just doesn't wanna hurt you.”

You sniffled, taking a step back to wipe your nose with your sleeve, your lip trembling as you tried to keep from crying harder than you already were. “But that’s what hurts, Connie. It hurts me to think he has to keep this from me, like I’m gonna think less of him for what he’s been through.”

“I know. Have you talked to him about it?” Connie’s voice was gentle and sweet, rubbing her hand along your arm as she listened to what you needed to get off your chest.

“No… I guess I should have. I never wanted to pry. I know it’s hard to talk about, I just- I wanna be there for him Connie. I don’t want him to have to do it all on his own.” You shifted your gaze to the ground, guilt washing over you. After Patrick, you couldn’t live with the idea of letting Javi try to suffer through his past alone. You loved him more than anything- and even the slightest thought of going through anything similar to what had happened to Patrick again with Javi was almost paralyzing.

“I think the best thing you can do is to go talk to him.” Looking back up, you saw Connie smiling at you, trying to convince you that everything would be okay, even if it felt like it wasn’t. “Why don’t you go find him? Party’s starting soon anyways, you can go change into your costumes and come down wherever you’re ready. I’ll be just fine with the cupcakes, tell Steve can put himself to work frosting.” The both of you grinned as you tried to wipe your tears, nodding slowly in agreement.

“Thanks, Connie.” You whispered into her shoulder as you pulled her in for a hug before heading up the stairs to find where Javi and Steve had gone. It didn’t take you long to find the pair, hearing their voices carry through the hallway from the slightly cracked door of the guest bedroom. You were about to knock and interrupt their conversation, stopping yourself with your fist barely touching the door as you tried to make out what they were talking about.

“The offer was in fucking cash, too. I was trying to make it easier so I could speed up the process, but it’s been taking them so goddamn long to close on everything so I can finally go sign the fucking paperwork.”

“That fuckin’ blows, Jav. I’m sorry. It’s not like she knows any better, though. It’ll still be a huge fuckin’ surprise, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I know. It’s been killing me to wait this long. I just want it to be perfect, Steve. She deserves everything. Honestly, I’m kinda glad it bought me some more time. I need to find a way to get her to see it before everything’s official in case she fucking hates it.”

“Javi. She’s not gonna hate it. Fuck it, tell her Connie and I are lookin’ for somethin’ and we wanted you two to go see it for us. I don’t know, maybe that’s too obvious. Speakin’ of which, I should probably go check to see if she needs anything before this party, I’m already in the fuckin’ dog house for forgettin’ to bring the girl’s trick-or-treatin’ bags to school, I don’t need to be in trouble for anything else.”

What the hell were they talking about? What was Javi signing? Why was it taking so long? What the hell did it have to do with you? Wait… holy fuck. No way… Was he-

Before you could finish your thought, you suddenly realized Steve was making his way towards the door. You quickly rapped your fist against the wood, trying to play off the fact you had been eavesdropping and make it look like you had just unassumingly made your way upstairs, not overhearing the conversation the two were just having.

Knock, knock.

“Hey, it’s me! Uh, Steve, Con wants to know if you can help her with the cupcakes really quick.” You pushed open the door, trying your best to smile at the suspicious pair as Steve shook his head, looking back at Javi.

“It’s always fuckin’ somethin’. I don’t even know what I did wrong this time, I swear.” Steve held up his hands defensively, sliding his way past you in the doorway before heading downstairs, leaving you standing there awkwardly, unsure how to feel after your conversation with Connie and the one you had just overheard.

“Hey, Osita. How’s everything goin’ down there? Sorry, we were just about to come down and- Hey, baby, you okay?” Javi stood up, concern spreading across his face from the strange scrunch in your brow as you stared at the floor.

“Ummmm…” You froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, your conversation with Connie had you ready to confront Javi, to finally work up the courage to ask him about the past life he had tried his best to keep from you. But as you glanced over at him, seeing his sweet brown eyes and stupidly handsome face, remembering the discussion you had just overheard through the doorway, the other hand meant you weren’t at risk of ruining your night that the two of you had been so looking forward to, and right now, the other hand was going to have to be the one you needed to play. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I just- I was gonna ask you something but forgot what I was gonna say. I’m sure I’ll remember it eventually.” You smiled at Javi, neither of you completely convinced by your response. “But um, Connie said that people are gonna start getting here soon, so we can change into our costumes if you want.” A smirk slowly stretched across your cheeks as you nodded over to the black duffle bags laying on the bed.

Javi’s grin matched yours quickly, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer against him as you giggled. “You sure we’re not gonna be the only ones dressed up?”

“Well considering it’s a Halloween party and I literally just talked to Connie about what she and Steve are wearing downstairs, I’m gonna give it a pretty confident yes. Worst case, it just looks like you’re wearing a white shirt and vest, Mr. Solo. You stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking nerf herder.” You raised your eyebrows, playfully poking at his chest. Javi paused, shaking his head at your quote, firing one right back at you as he bit down on his lip.

“You just like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

“I happen to like nice men.”

“I am a nice man.”

Javi cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, heavy kiss before backing away to unpack your bags, shooting you a quick wink as you rolled your eyes. Jesus, he even found a way to make Star Wars sexy. Just when you thought you couldn’t be anymore in love, Javier Peña never failed to find a way to make you realize you’d never stop falling for him.

After putting in what felt like the 74th bobby pin into your hair after getting the last braid wrapped over your head, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror, pleasantly surprised by how well your costume had turned out. While Javi was disappointed you were adamant you were not going as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi and showing up in front of a group of strangers at Steve and Connie’s party in her slave costume, you and Javi both agreed that Hoth Princess Leia was definitely the next best look. Staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, Javi had been adamant about waiting with you as you finished getting ready, leaning his hip against the bathroom counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you finish the last of your hair and makeup.

“Okay, I think that should stay. All those years of braiding my hair for under my hockey helmet are finally coming in handy for something.” You snickered, pushing the final clip into your hair to hold it into place, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. As you looked yourself down, Javi’s eyes wandered up and down your body just as fast, practically undressing you as fast as you had put your costume on.

“Goddamn, Osita… Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Me? Jesus Christ, Javi. You put Harrison Ford to shame with how fucking good you look. I like Han Solo better with a mustache anyways.” You licked your tongue against your bottom lip, running your hands along the muscles of his arms, straining against the tight henley shirt he was wearing under his vest. You were no better than Javi, practically having to force yourself to not look in his general direction while you were getting ready to prevent yourself from pouncing on him. But given the lack of chatter downstairs, and the impressive speed at which the two of you had gotten ready, you really couldn’t help yourself. Slowly, you let your hands begin to slip down his arms and across his chest, palming at the denim of his black jeans as he let out a deep groan.

“Hermosa…” He hissed against your neck as you grasped at the bulge now growing under his pants, your other hand now making its way down to undo his belt, the clinking of the metal drowned out by Javi’s heavy panting. You began lowering your body, sliding Javi’s pants and boxers down his thighs as his cock sprang free, his tip already red and leaking with precum. You rested on your knees, face to face with his length as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him a few times.

“This okay, Captain Solo?” You batted your lashes at him, giving him a wink before letting your spit dribble onto his cock, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. Curling your fingers around his base, you began to twist your wrist, hollowing out your cheeks as you took him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck me. Holy shit, Osita.” He moaned, tilting his head back, letting his jaw go slack as your head bobbed back and forth. He gently rested his hand along the side of your face, helping to guide you along his length as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, that feels so good. You look so hot, god fuckin’ dammit.” Javi’s words were labored and shaky as you started to increase your pace, wrapping your free hand around the back of his bare thigh, digging your fingertips into his leg. Feeling the pressure beginning to build in his stomach, Javi began rocking his hips, his jaw completely slack as he looked down at the sight of how well you took him in your mouth, saliva dribbling down your chin as sucked along his cock, hard and heavy on your tongue. “Fuck, Osita. I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I cum like this, baby? Fill up that- fuck- fill up that pretty little mouth of yours?””

You glanced up at him, nodding, your lips still wrapped around his dick, the motions of your head and wrist now becoming faster and sloppier as you watched Javi’s brow scrunch and jaw clench, a sign you knew all too well that he was moments away from coming undone.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, baby- shit- se sientes tan bien, estoy tan cercaaahhhhhh-” (you feel so good, I’m so closeeeee-). The hot ropes of his spend coated the back of your throat, the salty, tangy mix filling your mouth as Javi whined, giving his hips one last push as kept your lips wrapped around him, making sure that you had milked him of every last drop before releasing. Letting your spit and his release fall from the corners of your lips, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking up at Javi’s blissed out expression. “Jesus Christ, Osita. You’re too fucking good at that. Holy shit. Lemme take care of-“

You held up your hand to stop him as you stood up, your gesture cutting off the rest of his sentence as you helped to pull up his jeans and boxers still resting along his thighs. “I’m allowed to give my hot ass boyfriend blowjobs without anything in return. C’mon, we better get downstairs before Steve walks in on us again.” You pressed up on your tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on Javi’s lips as he reached down to buckle his belt before the two of you tried your best to fix yourself up in the mirror to avoid the inevitable shit Steve was about to give the both of you. Giving Javi a quick nod in the mirror before turning off the light and heading out the door, he gave your ass a playful smack, making you squeal in surprise, making you turn on your heels. Resting his hand on his hip, he beamed at you, biting down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I know.”

The Murphy’s living room had begun to pool with guests as you made your way down the stairs, looking for Steve and Connie amongst the crowd. You and Javi both grabbed a beer from the cooler at the bottom of the stairwell, quickly turning around as you heard Steve’s familiar twang approaching behind you.

“Well I’ll be damned. You got this motherfucker in a costume? He must really love you.” Steve chuckled, shaking Javi by the shoulders. “And Star Wars too?! You asshole, how many times did I try to tell you they were good fuckin’ movies?! You shoulda dressed him up like Jabba the Hut.” You and Steve cackled as Javi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and what the fuck are you supposed to be? A sad pirate?” Javi jabbed, poking fun at Steve’s poorly put together costume.

“Listen, Olivia and Abby both wanted to be the Little Mermaid, so we had two Ariel’s, Con was Ursula, Madison was the yellow fish and I didn’t wanna be that annoying ass crab, so pirate it was, asshole.” Steve retorted, punching at Javi’s arm, the two of them laughing at each other like little boys. “Alright, go enjoy yourselves lovebirds, I’ll see ya in a little bit. And Javi?”

“Yeah Murph?”

“You really gotta start checkin’ your pants, buddy.”

Javi’s cheeks turned red, his eyes darting down to his zipper, still all the way undone from your activities upstairs, the both of you grimacing at each other, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with Steve as he disappeared into the crowd.

It really wasn’t a surprise to Javi how many friends the Murphy’s had already managed to make in their time since moving to San Antonio. Their house was quickly crowded with all sorts of people- Steve and Connie’s co-workers, neighbors, parents of friends Olivia and Abby had made at school, regardless of where the party goers were from, everyone had collectively agreed to make adult Halloween just as fun as any kids. You and Javi were having a great time catching up with Steve and Connie, as well as meeting some of their other close friends, one of Connie’s neighbors being an elementary school teacher, giving you two plenty to commiserate about from the hellish week it had been. It didn’t take long for the party to move outside, Steve drunkenly deciding that he needed to make a bonfire, despite adamant argument that with the amount of alcohol Steve had in his system, he was going to spontaneously combust if he got close enough to a flame. Javi, sober enough to still help his friend make rational decisions, was glad that Steve was happy to let him build the bonfire.

“The force is strong with you, Han Solo.” You giggled, Javi wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead as the two of you stared into the flickering orange glow of the fire pit.

“Not strong enough to extinguish Steve if he got close enough to it. Hey, I got shit all over my hands, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and wash ‘em off. You need anything while I’m inside, Princess?” You smiled as you nudged Javi at the nickname he had been adamant about using since you had put on your costume.

“I’m good, thank you. I’m gonna go wait over on the swingset so I don’t completely reek of bonfire later.” Javi nodded as he slid his hand down your back, giving your ass a quick squeeze before making his way through the crowd, heading towards the house. Surprised no one else had capitalized on the chance to sit down, you wandered over to the wooden playset at the corner of the Murphy’s backyard, taking a seat on one of the plastic swings, kicking your feet against the grass below.

“Hey, there she is! How goes it, Leia?” Taking a few long strides through the yard, Steve was now quickly making his way over to you, stumbling over his own feet as he somehow managed to sit himself down on the swing next to you. You tried your best not to laugh at Steve’s drunken state, but his current antics weren’t making it very easy on you.

“I could ask the same to you. You doin’ okay there, pirate?”

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m doin’ fuckin’ great. Where’s the asshole?”

“Inside, I’m sure he’ll be back out soon.” You snickered at Steve watching the beer dribble down his chin from the overly confident swig he had taken.

“Good, I don’t need ‘em right now. You were the one I was lookin’ for.” Steve pointed in your general direction, but clearly wasn’t aware enough to hit his target head on.

“Me?” You laughed, pointing back to yourself.

“Yes, you. You talk to him yet?”

“About?” You paused, wondering if Steve had any inkling of the conversation you were planning to have earlier, or if he was drunkenly deciding you and Javi needed to discuss something else.

“You know about what. I talked to Connie earlier. I figured I owed it to you to come talk to you about it, too.”

Your heart began to race, that uncomfortable feeling once again beginning to churn in your stomach as you thought about the things you and Connie had discussed earlier. “Steve, you don’t owe me anything, I-”

“No, I do. Hold on a second.” Steve turned away, letting out a hearty burp, pouding on his chest before facing back towards you. “Sorry, I’ve been holdin’ that in for like 10 minutes, I needed to let it out. Anyways… What was I sayin’? Oh shit, yeah, the grumpy bastard. Listen, sweetheart. I know it’s gonna fuckin’ suck, but you gotta be the one to bring it up and talk to him about it. If I know anything about that motherfucker, it’s that he will bottle things up for way too fuckin’ long until someone gets it out of him. He’s a good guy. He says he’s not, but he is. Saved my ass more times than I can count. That job made us do some fucked up shit neither of us are fuckin’ proud of. But that doesn’t mean he gets to keep it from you. I swear to God, that asshole is so fuckin’ in love with you, it makes me sick. You make him so happy. He just doesn’t wanna fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, all you could manage was to reach over to the swing next to you, pulling Steve in for a hug as you tried to keep your tears from staining his shirt. “Thanks, Steve.” You whispered, leaning back into your seat, using your sleeve to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“I know you love him too. You deserve to know. Don’t let him be a stubborn jackass to you, okay? I’m bein’ serious. I should be the one thankin’ you though, honey. In all the years I’ve known him, I never thought I’d see ‘em this happy. I promise I won’t get this drunk at your wedding.” Steve winked, straining to push himself up out of the swing, somehow managing to catch his balance as he stumbled into the grass.

“You do make a very inspirational drunk, Steve.” You laughed to yourself, looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Alright, enough sap, I’m gonna go get another fuckin’ beer, I’ll see ya around okay?”

“Okay, maybe a water would be good for you, too.”

“Water’s for pussies.”

“Water’s good for people who don’t want raging hangovers tomorrow.”

“Pirates are always drunk, so I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

It didn’t take long for Javi to return, easily spotting his tall, broad body making his way through the crowd, beaming at you as he walked over to the swings. You tried your best to smile back at him with the uneasy pounding in your chest quickly building, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Hey, Hermosa. Sorry it took so long, I ended up stopping to get another drink on the-“

“Do- Javi, do you trust me?”

Your words were quiet and blunt as they rolled off your tongue, your eyes peeled on your feet kicking through the grass beneath you.

Javi’s brow immediately scrunched in confusion, completely off put by your question and demeanor. “Do I- Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I trust you? What’s going on?” Setting down his drink, he began making his way next to you in frantic, worried strides.

“Then why won’t you talk to me about it?” Your eyes darted from the ground up to his, his sweet brown eyes swirling with confusion at the firm tone of your voice and desperation growing across your face.

“Talk to you about what? Hermosa, what’s going on? Is everything ok-”

“Why won’t you talk to me about Colombia?”

Javi took a step back. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defense, or absolute shock from the words that had just fallen out of your mouth. He stared at you for a moment, his jaw locking as you could see how hard he swallowed, trying to bide his time as he calculated his response.

“Osita… It’s not that simple.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. Baby, if this is because of last night, you don’t need to worry about me, can we please just drop it?” The two of you faced each other in an unspoken standoff, Javi’s hands now resting on his hips as you crossed your arms over your chest. You had tried so hard to be patient, but in the moment, it was like all of your frustration was beginning to boil over.

“That’s exactly why we’re talking about this, Javi. Because I fucking worry about you. All the time. I’ve tried so hard to be patient. I’ve never, ever tried to get you to talk about it because I know it’s fucking hard. But last night, you’re up at 2 A.M, wandering around the apartment, and I’m begging you to tell me what’s wrong and you won’t fucking do it. I’m not an idiot, Javi. I can’t live in this weird in between space in your life where you pretend your past doesn’t exist when I know it still fucking haunts you. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

Javi could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweating as they clenched in tight fists at his sides. He tried so desperately to find an answer, something, anything he could tell you to try and justify his choices. The choices he had kept from you. The choices he couldn’t forgive himself for. “Because, I- fuck- because, goddamnit, I just- I was a terrible fucking person, okay? The things I did, they were-”

“What? Fucked up? Painful? Shitty? Of course they fucking were, Javi. You were literally in Colombia chasing down Pablo Fucking Escobar. What did you think I thought you were doing down there? Filing away paperwork? You don’t think I know that you did things you regret? That you’ve hurt people? Made choices that hurt innocent people who didn’t deserve it? I know Javi, I fucking know. I watched my brothers come back from the same goddamn thing. I tried so hard to give them space, to let them come to terms with the fucked up things they did on their own, and you know what fucking happened? One of them’s fucking dead because of it. I can’t let it happen again. I don’t care about what you did. It doesn’t make you a bad person. But you can’t try and hide it from me and pretend like it doesn’t exist. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t if you don’t trust me. Please trust me. Please. I love you so much, Javi. I can’t lose you.”

Javi stood in silence, as the both of you fought the tears streaming down your cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he had just been hit in the gut with a giant sucker punch, or if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He truly didn’t know how to feel. He wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly. Did you really just tell him that you knew about the fucked up, terrible things he had done and that you didn’t care? That you still fucking loved him? All you wanted was for him to trust that you wanted to be there for him? He could feel his hands trembling and lip quivering as he tried to find the words to speak.

“Osita… I- fuck, baby. Osita, I’m so sorry. I trust you with my fucking life. You- You don’t deserve to have to deal with with all the fucked up things I’ve done. I don’t wanna scare you away, baby. You’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me and I was so terrified if you found out about the terrible person I used to be, you’d leave. It’s not fair to you, I can’t expect you to carry the weight of all the fucking things I’ve done, too. I’m so sorry.” Quietly, Javi sat down next to you on the empty swing, burying his hands in his face. Gently, you reached over, pulling his hands away, forcing him to look at you.

“Whatever you tell me isn’t gonna scare me away. I promise. The only thing that’s gonna scare me is when you try to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Javi… Javi, I just- I just wanna be there for you. I don’t want you to have to do it alone. I’d do anything for you. I trust you more than anyone. You’re my best friend. I just- fuck- I just want you to trust that I’ll always be there for you to. I promise.”

And just like that, the last brick holding up the wall between you and Javier Peña collapsed. There was nothing left to run from. Nothing left to hide. After he returned home, he was a changed man. He had hated the person he had become. Maybe there was a part of him that didn’t want to be loved, because he didn’t believe that he deserved to be. But then, there was you.

You.

You had taken everything he had known and changed his life for the better. You had become his better half, the person he loved more than anyone in the world. You had proved he was worthy of more than just existing- you had proved to Javi that he was worth the love and happiness you had promised him from the moment you had come into his life and made it worth living for.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Always.”

The way Javi grabbed you and wrapped you in his arms, grasping at the back of your shirt as he pulled you in tighter, feeling the hot breath of his silent sobs against your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You didn’t know much, but if there was one thing you did know, it was that you loved Javier Peña more than life itself. As quickly as it had felt like your life had fallen apart, he had come into it and picked up the broken pieces to put it back together. And on an October night in San Antonio, sitting on an old wooden swing set in the Murphy’s backyard, you hoped that Javi knew that you would always be there to pick up the shattered parts of his past, too.

You weren’t sure how many hours had passed as you sat hand in hand in the swings with Javi as you listened to anything and everything he had to say. Long after the backyard was empty, and the bonfire had faded to embers and ashes, and the only one left awake besides the two of you was Connie, trying to drag Steve back inside from the plastic lawn chair he had passed out on, you finally made your way up to bed for the best sleep the two of you had in a very, very long time. Your goodbyes to the Murphy’s had been short and sweet- Connie exhausted from the late night, and Steve barley coherent from how hungover he was, you were still both so thankful the two of you had made the journey out to see them, and the both of you, just as grateful for the sweet and supportive life long friends you knew the Murphy’s would become. Most of your drive back to Laredo was spent in a comfortable silence, the golden sunrise spilling through the windows of Javi’s truck as you cruised down the highway, Javi’s hand never leaving yours, your fingers intertwined together as his thumb gently rubbed against your soft skin and your head rested against his broad shoulder.

“How are you feeling about seeing your mom today?” You asked, lightly squeezing his arm as you smiled up at him, now exiting off the freeway quickly approaching the cemetery where you planned to meet Chucho to celebrate Día De Los Muertos, trying your best to comfort Javi as he prepared to see his mom’s gravesite for the first time since her funeral almost a decade ago. Javi let out a quiet sigh, his grip tightening just a little tighter around your hand as he looked over at you, a surprisingly calm look flooding his face.

“I’m actually doing okay. Better than I would have thought. I think I was always so worried that she wouldn’t be proud of me and the man I’d become after she was gone. I um- I finally think that she’d be proud of me now.” He glanced over at you, his smile soft and tender as he soaked in the reason for his pride sitting right beside him.

You noticed Chucho’s truck as you pulled up to park along the edge of the small cemetery, Chucho excitedly waving you down as you both hopped out of the car. Walking around to Javi, you were quick to grab his hand, giving him a reassuring grip as the two of you made your way through the gravestones along the thin cobblestone path towards Chucho, already arranging the items he had collected for Lucia’s ofrenda.

“Hola, niños.” Chucho grinned, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of today, Chucho. I know… Well, I just- I’m really honored to- just, thank you.” Chucho wasted no time pulling you into your own hug, his rough and worn hands holding you by the shoulders as he looked at you with misty eyes.

“Mija, I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if we would all be here today. Lucia’s last wish to me was that I would promise to make sure Javier was happy. Now hija, I think my sweet Lucia can rest a little easier knowing someone else has already fulfilled my promise for me.” As the two of you spoke, you hadn’t noticed as Javi had quietly stepped over to his mother’s gravestone, crouching next to it, his fingers delicately tracing along the engraved letters of her name, his other hand holding one of the marigold flowers Chucho had brought with him. The two of you watched quietly as Javi sat next to his mom, gently placing the flower on the shiny stone as he spoke.

“Hola, mamá. Te extrañé. Siento haber tarado tanto.” (Hi mom. I missed you. I’m sorry I took so long). Javi’s voice trembled as he took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling as his hand rested on the stone, warm from the sun, shining brightly in the blue November sky. “Que estaba asustada de de verte porque estaba orgullosala de la persona en la que me había convertido. Que no quería decepcionarte. Tenía miedo mucho, mamá. Me sentí como si todo se derrumbase. solo quería olvidar. Pero entonces…” (I was scared to see you because I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I was so scared, mom. I felt like I let everyone down. I just wanted to forget. But then…). Javi turned his head, seeing you and Chucho, arm in arm, a smile growing across his face as looked back at the two people in life he loved the most. He took an extra moment to stare at you and the soft grin spread between your cheeks, basking in the comfort and warmth of the woman who had forever changed his life for the better. “Pero entonces, mamá, La conocí. Que es perfecta. Nunca supe que podías amar tanto a alguien. Ella es lo mejor que me ha pasado. La habrías amado.ella es una maestra, tambien. A veces me pregunto qué ve en mí. No sé qué hice para merecerse. voy a pedirle que se case conmigo.Cuidaré bien de ella. Ella se merece todo lo que le pueda dar y más. Espero que estés orgulloso de mí, mamá. te echo mucho, Pero le juro a usted, al fin soy feliz. Te amo, mamá.” (But then, mom, I met her. She is perfect. I never knew you could love someone so much. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You would have loved her. She’s a teacher too. Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in me. I don’t know what I did to deserve her. I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I’m gonna take such good care of her. She deserves everything I can give her and more. I hope you’re proud of me, mamá. I miss you so much, but I promise you, I’m finally happy. I love you, mom.)

With a gentle nudge from Chucho, you softly stepped behind Javi, gently placing your hands on his shoulders before he rose up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest as he wiped away the tears welling behind his eyes. Staring down at Lucia’s gravestone, Javi ran his hand through your hair, carefully planting a kiss against your head and burying his nose in the soft waves of your hair.

“I wish I would have had the chance to have met you, Mrs. Peña. I would have had someone else to commensurate with over all of the crazy teaching stories I’m sure the both of us have. Maria, Estelle and Linda all miss you a lot too, but I’m sure they haven’t changed a bit. Thanks for raising such a good son. I don’t know what I would do without him. I know he says that he doesn’t know what he did to deserve me, but I really think it should be the other way around. I promise I’ll look out for him.” You tried your best to smile through your soft sobs, looking up at Javi, tears streaming down his wet cheeks. It wasn’t long before Chucho had snuck up behind you, patting each of you on the back before smiling down at Lucia, too.

“Estos dos están tan enamorados, Lucia. Tal vez más que tú y yo. Ella es una buena chica. Estoy muy contenta de que ella sea parte de nuestra familia. Finalmente tendremos a nuestros nietos, también.” (These two are so in love, Lucia. Maybe even more than you and I. She is a great girl. I am so happy she is a part of our family. We are finally going to get our grandchildren, too). Chucho winked, nudging Javi in the side, forcing him to laugh through his tears, shaking his head at his dad’s comment. “Now, no more tears, you two. This is a happy day. Your mamá is smiling down on you, and I can almost hear here scolding me to keep you from crying anymore. C’mon, let’s decorate and eat, I even brought pozole.”

The three of you spent the next hour decorating Lucia’s grave with bright orange and gold cempazuchitl (marigold flowers) and little Calaveras (sugar skulls) painted in bold colors and refined details, sharing and laughing about Javi’s favorite memories of his mother while snacking on the Pozole Chucho had brought to share. For the first time in a long time, Javi no longer felt guilt and grief when he thought about his mom- her memory filled him with love and joy. He wasn’t the same bitter, broken man he was when he had said his final goodbyes to his mother all those years ago. While he wished he could change the past, the reality of the present, and his future finally brought him peace, knowing he could be proud of the man he had become, thanks to you.

As Javi helped Chucho to clean up the extra flowers and decorations he had brought, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching at the wrinkled photo you had shoved in your pocket as you had packed up to leave from the Murphy’s this morning. You carefully took it out, holding it gently in your hands as you tried to uncrinkle the edges. “You ready, Hermosa?” Javi called out, now a few steps ahead of you, making his way back towards the truck. “Hermosa?” He asked again, thinking perhaps you hadn’t heard him the first time. When he was greeted by silence again, he looked back to see you staring at the crumpled photo in your hands.

“I um- I know that he isn’t buried here, and uh, if you don’t want me to, it’s okay- but um- is it, is it alright if I leave a couple flowers for Patrick?” You sniffed, a tear dropping down on the photo of the two of you, Patrick holding you in a headlock as you laughed with a wide, toothy grin, drowning in one of his old Blackhawks jerseys that you were so excited to wear because it belonged to him.

“Of course, Osita. Of course it is.” Javi smiled at you softly, turning back around with the tub of leftover decorations, making his way towards you. Quietly, you walked back over to Lucia’s gravestone, carefully setting down the picture of you and Patrick next to it, putting a few marigolds over top of it so it stayed pinned in place from the warm breeze.

“I miss you, asshole. You deserved so much better. I hope you don’t still think that I hate you. I mean, I do, but you know what I mean. Honestly, you were lucky you didn’t have to live through the Blackhawks losing in the playoffs this year, that fucking sucked. Mom and Dad and Charlie and David all miss you too. I finally went back home to see them. It still wasn’t the same without you there, but I know you don’t hurt anymore. I hope that you don’t hurt anymore. I love you, Patrick. Crack open a cold one up there for me, okay?” Trying your best to not to uncontrollably sob, you sniffled, wiping the tears running down your face as you leaned your head against Javi’s chest. He ran his hand along your back as he held you tighter, letting you take a moment to get everything out before you took a deep breath, nodding your head as if to signify to Javi and yourself that you were okay.

“You okay, Osita? We can take all the time you need, baby.” Javi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder.

“No, I’m okay. I just- I wanted to do something for him, too. Thanks, Javi. I love you.”

“I know.”

After several more long hugs goodbye with Chucho, you and Javi began your journey back home, marveling at the beautiful sunset, painting the sky with bright pinks and oranges and the warmth and comfort of Lucia and Patrick’s presence. You were so lost in thought staring out at the fading sky, you hadn’t even noticed that Javi had detoured from your usual route home until he had said something to you. “You okay if we make a quick pit stop on the way home, Osita?” You nodded, smiling at the golden glow covering his face. It wasn’t long until you were veering off the main road, Javi turning to make his way down a tree lined gravel pathway with a “For Sale” sign posted in front of it.

“For sale?” You questioned, looking over at Javi before peering out your window to watch the trees lining the path pass by you as the gravel crunched under the truck’s tires.

“Yeah, uh- I was talking with Steve at the party yesterday and he- uh, one of his buddies said he was looking to get out of the city- wanted a plot of land to build on. Said he had heard good things about Laredo but didn’t have time to go check things out for himself, so I told him I would go take a look around and let Steve know what I thought.” Javi replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant as you shrugged before looking back out the window. As you reached the end of the path, the trees opened to reveal a beautiful, lush green field, the sun setting perfectly along the rolling hills of the horizon in front of you. Turning off the ignition, Javi gestured for the both of you to get out of the truck so you could go take a look around.

“Jav… This is beautiful.” You marveld, grinning as you took in the beauty of the open space drenched in golden sunset.

“You like it?” Javi grinned, laughing as you spun around, the gentle breeze blowing your hair in and out of your face.

“Oh my God, yeah. Tell Steve’s friend to get on this place ASAP before I scrounge up every penny I have and sell one of my kidneys on the black market to buy it from him. There doesn’t even need to be a house, I’ll just lay in the empty field, perfectly content.” You giggled, letting out a happy sigh as you grabbed Javi’s hand, leaning your head against his arm as you admired the sun slipping away below the horizon.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. He said he’s wanting to build a house here, do you think- do you think that he would think it’s got enough space? It’s not too far from everything? I know it’s a little farther from downtown and a longer drive to work- if uh, if he works by where we do, you don’t think that’d be a problem? For him?” Javi squeezed back, trying his best not to stumble over his words.

“Are you kidding me? It’s literally perfect out here, Javi. Could you imagine getting to see this every night? He better put some big windows on this house so he can get all of the sunlight, oh my god, it would be so pretty. It’s not even that far from everything, and the view makes the extra drive time worth every minute. I know it’s probably a far way off, and we haven’t really talked about it, but I would love to live at a place like this someday.”

Javi smiled to himself, looking down at you as you rested against him, soaking in every ounce of you as he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist, gently rubbing his thumb along the soft hem of your shirt before letting out a content sigh.

“Yeah. Me too.”

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