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katiexpunk · 2 months

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Desert Dust | Joel Miller's POV

Summary: The last place Joel Miller expected to find himself at this point in his life was in a small highway town in Arizona, passing the days by. He never really though he needed more -- until he met you.

Warnings: This is Joel's POV from Desert Dust. Yeah, if you thought he was a consent king in the original, this just further proves it. Tommy comes with his own cheeky warning. No age gap mentioned (make it your own), but Joel mentions feeling old. Joel Miller has a bad back (it's canon). Self-deprecation. Attempted assault (not by Joel)/nothing too graphic (please be responsible about what you consume). Joel beats up a bad guy., and like actually kinda wants to kill him for trying to hurt you. References to blood and first aid. Alcohol. Pet names. Flirting/slow burn. Inexperienced reader. Body hair. References to taste of vagina. Smoking/cigarettes (it's bad, don't do it). Oral (f receiving). Praise kink. Rough sex. Sex on a desk. Just a really passionate, filthy fuck. Creampie (shocker, I know). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions apart from female anatomy.

W/C: ~8K

A/N: Thank you for all of the love on Desert Dust. Nobody asked for this, but I couldn't get Joel's POV outta my head, so I hope you enjoy a little deep dive into what Joel was thinking when he first walked into that restaurant. Your honor, they're in love. Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Did you ever see a robin weep When leaves begin to die? Like me, he's lost the will to live I'm so lonesome I could cry

The timbre of Hank Williams’ voice fills the truck's cab as Joel drives. It’s early, the sky is just beginning to transition from a deep midnight blue to a gradient of warm orange as the sun gradually emerges. While Joel likes to think of himself as a morning person, his back has other opinions on the matter. It’s to be expected, though, that’s what nearly 30 years of hard labor will do to a man.

The warmth of the thermos in between his thighs contrasts with the chilly morning air pouring in through the cracked window. Smoke dances lazily around his broad frame, a burning cigarette clenched between his calloused fingers. He greedily draws long drags, knowing it’ll be hours before he can have another one. He should quit, he knows he should quit. The half-used pack of Nicorette gum that sits in his cupholder in front of him is proof of that.

But like picking at a scab or peeling the skin of a sunburn, sometimes we all do things we know we shouldn’t, things that make us feel good, if only for just a minute or two.

In truth, there isn’t a lot that makes him feel good anymore. Jesus, when did he turn into such a grumpy old man? Probably sometime between Sarah going to college, and Tommy convincing him to take this contract job in the middle of fuck all nowhere.

The silence of a falling star Lights up a purple sky And as I wonder where you are I'm so lone–

Williams’ voice falls silent as Joel turns off the truck, having pulled into the work site. He snubs out the cigarette into the ashtray in the middle of the dash and grabs his jacket, a clipboard, and safety helmet.

“Another day, another dollar,” he mutters to himself, pulling the handle on the driver's side door. The ground crunches below him, his boots are so dusty he doesn’t think he’ll ever get them clean again. God damn desert dust. He shakes his head and walks to the white trailer in front of him, unsure of why he’s so frustrated in the first place.

“Well aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine this morning,” Tommy says, responding to the quick snap of the door after Joel enters their makeshift office.

“Don’t,” Joel bites back.

“What’s got your panties in a twist this morning, princess?” Tommy chides, sitting behind a wooden desk covered in blueprints and safety checklists.

“This really the way you want to start the day, Tommy?” Joel says, voice low and even, masking his emotions. “Just, get to work.”

He rounds around to the desk opposite Tommy’s and places everything down. The ripped chair lets out a little puff of air under his weight as he sits.

Tommy, of course, knows what’s eating at Joel. He needs to get fucking laid.

Tommy can’t even remember the last time he saw Joel with a woman it’s been so long. He was always so focused on Sarah, or growing the company, that he always put himself last. He’s tried to set Joel up on dates, but he always declines, citing he’s too busy or maybe next month.

And while Tommy doesn’t say anything, it’s as if Joel can practically hear his thoughts.

“Would you stop thinking so damn loud,” Joel mutters, and Tommy gives him a knowing smirk. “‘M fine. Worry about how we’re gonna finish this project and less about me,” Joel tells him. They both return their attention to their work.

As Joel works to finish up his administrative tasks before the rest of the crew arrives, he tries to shove down the annoyance he feels that maybe Tommy might be right. Maybe it has been too long, besides, rutting his cock into his fist in the shower every night is starting to get old.

He’s not intentionally trying to avoid meeting someone, it’s just that nobody’s ever really caught his attention, not in any genuine way. He knows he’s attractive, but it might as well be poison to him for the types of women he attracts – it’s all fake tits, tight jeans, and money-hungry cougars just looking for someone to show them a good time.

Just as he starts to think all of the good girls might be gone – he meets you.

++++

God, either this booth is uncomfortable or his back is getting worse. He tries to relieve some of the pressure by hunching over for a second. Nope, that’s worse. He sits up to full height and that’s a little better, for now, at least. He looks at the menu in front of him. He thinks about ordering a burger, but with how busy it is, he’s not confident it would come out in time before his lunch break ends. Besides, he told Tommy he would be back in less than 30.

He didn’t intend to stop, he was just looking for an excuse to clear his head. But when he went to grab his coffee, he realized he had left it on his desk. He’d taken the highway exit to get to the restaurant by chance, hoping he might find a Starbucks or something quick. But nope, as it usually goes in small towns, the only coffee place nearby is where he currently sits.

He notices you coming up to the table out of the corner of his eye and turns his head to look at you.

Shit – you’re beautiful. He thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He watches as your thighs come flesh with the edge of the table, a coffee pot in your hand.

"Hi," you say, he notices your voice is soft. "Can I get you something to drink?"

He’s so fucked. You even sound pretty.

Your eyes find him, and he swears he feels something shift, electricity courses through him. You’re the first person to look at him, actually look at him, in years. He tries to keep his face level, not wanting to give away any of what he’s thinking.

His eyes drift down to your chest until he notices the nametag pinned to your shirt. Cute name. It matches your pretty face. He internally chuckles to himself when he notices the coffee stains and what he thinks might be ketchup on your shirt. It makes him smile, mostly because he’s no stranger to wearing food himself, although you’re a waitress, it makes more sense to him that you’d be a little messy, a little dirty. He doesn’t quite have the same excuse.

Distracted, it dawns on him that he’s probably staring. Stop being weird, she doesn’t need some old man gawking at her while she’s just trying to do her job, you fucking creep.

He moves his eyes to the coffee pot in your hand. Right. The whole reason he’s here in the first place.

"Just coffee, darlin'," he says, watching as you pour some into the mug that was already waiting on the table.

“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” you whisper.

He thinks he might pass out when he sees your smile. So, so fucked.

“Just coffee for me today, sweetheart, thank you.”

He internally grimaces when he realizes he’d let sweetheart slip, hoping it didn’t weird you out. You can take the man out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the man. He tries not to stare as he watches you walk away, but he can’t help himself.

Sitting in silence, he nurses his coffee and tries to ignore the annoying glances that he seems to be getting from, well, everyone. He feels like he might as well have a giant arrow above his head screaming I’m horny for the waitress. He knows he’s looking at you more than he should, but like a moth to a flame, he just can’t seem to look away. He wonders how long you’ve worked here, and what your story might be. He wonders if you’re happy. Why the hell would he be wondering that? He just met you, for fucks sake.

He’s just another customer.

The establishment itself is pretty much what’d you expect for a small-town dive, the smell of grease and hamburgers wafting through the air. The portions are huge, and the coffee is good. There’s just one annoying thing about it, and he quickly learns her name is Tracy.

He only knows this because she’s quick to offer it up, calling him baby and sugar, pestering him like a fly. She’s attentive in a way that’s forced, suffocating in every possible way. He can tell she’s the type of woman who craves the attention of any man who’s willing to give her the time of day, the type of woman that lets her boobs do all the talking. He’s lonely, yes, but he’s not desperate. He wants nothing more than for you to refill his coffee, just so he can hear your voice again, but she makes it near impossible.

More than three cups of deep, but still bone tired, he feels his phone vibrate in his jeans and he knows it’ll be Tommy asking where he’s at. He pulls it out and sure enough. He looks around the restaurant, hoping maybe he might be able to cash out with you, but you’re nowhere to be seen.

He opens his worn leather wallet, the same one he’s had since Sarah gifted it to him all those years ago, only to find a handful of $20s. He drops one on the table and decides it’s not worth it to ask Tracy for change; he could go the rest of his life never talking to her again and be fine with it.

He silently slips out of the restaurant, and his curiosity about you nearly drowns him on the drive back.

But this time when he walks into the trailer, he can’t help the cheesy grin that involuntarily appears on his face.

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Tommy teases, his words slightly muffled from the bite of PB&J in his mouth, the sticky tack of peanut butter glued to the roof of it.

“Shut up,” he says, but there’s no bite behind it.

++++

The days turn into weeks, and he tries to step away from work, he does. Every day he tries to find an excuse to go in and see you, a reasonable time to step away for an hour or so. But it’s hard, project demands are at an all-time high, and the client is up his butt, freaking out they won’t be done in time. He works overtime, arriving earlier than usual and leaving close to midnight nearly every night.

Joel Miller is a lot of things, but above all, he’s a man of his word. He and his brother didn’t build this company by being late or half-assing work. We’ll get it done, he reassures the client. And they will, he’ll make sure of it.

“Joel, get up man,” Tommy says, shaking his shoulder. He jolts awake, his vision a little fuzzy, slightly disoriented.

He must have drifted off during his lunch break and passed out cold on his keyboard. When he finally comes to, he automatically feels a twinge in his lower back. He’ll pay for that little nap later, he can already tell.

“You’ve been working too hard, why don’t you call it a day, go home, and get some sleep? I’ve got it here for the rest of today,” Tommy offers. As much as they fight, there is a mutual understanding there – respect, even love, although they’ll both never admit to that outright.

He starts to protest, but the pain in his back tells him that maybe he’s right. Lord knows he could benefit from a hot shower and a good night's rest, but even those things, things that should be relaxing, don’t offer him any respite. When he’s not thinking about work, he’s thinking about you. Your kind, soft eyes, and warm smile have sunk their teeth into his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t seem to shake you.

A rather frustrating fact, considering you’ve probably forgotten all about him. Just another customer, he’s just another customer.

On the drive back home, he realizes he’s not far off from the exit to the restaurant. You’re probably not even working, and he knows he might be risking seeing Tracy again, but fuck it. Before he has time to talk himself out of the decision, he’s pulling into the parking lot.

He’s surprised at how quiet the restaurant is, a lot different from his first visit. He looks at his watch, it’s close to 3 o’clock, and from the state of the place, he can tell the lunch rush likely just finished. He tries to not be obvious about the fact that he’s scanning the place, looking for something, someone. You.

He sees you before you see him. You look – focused. He can tell you’re a little worn out, but fuck if you aren’t still adorable. He flexes his hand open and closed a few times, trying to calm nerves he didn’t even know he had anymore.

He grins a little as you tell him to take a seat wherever you want, as he watches intently as you throw the final pieces of flatware into the bin. He’s kind of impressed with how quickly you cleaned up the mess, how easily you hoist the heavy bus bin onto your hip.

When you finally notice him, he lifts his hand in a silent hello.

You look cute when you’re surprised. He can tell he’s caught you off guard. Like you weren’t expecting him. He notices as you scan his body, taking him in. He wonders if you feel this too, whatever the fuck this is.

“Oh, hi. Um, go ahead and take a seat, I’ll be with you in just a second, just gonna drop this in the back,” you say. The smile and obvious excitement that washes over your face tells him everything he needs to know.

He’s a customer. But what if he was more than that?

Jesus.

No.

He’s just a customer.

He decides that the booth by the window looks decent enough. The booth and his back fight once more, but he eventually gets comfortable. When you greet him again, your smile and soft voice melt into him, making him forget all the stress of the past few weeks. It takes him a second before it dawns on him that he hasn’t responded to you, that he hasn’t said anything. Talk to her, say something…say anything.

“I was, uh hoping you’d be here,” he says, realizing how cringe he probably sounds. Has he always been this bad at flirting?

But before he can recover, Tracy swoops in like a hawk, eager to monopolize his attention. He watches as you sink back into the depths of the restaurant, leaving him with her. No, come back.

She's quick to bring him a menu, some coffee, and offer him a selection of homemade pies, her enthusiasm bordering on overwhelming. He’s being rather curt with her, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s not interested, but the more he seems to ignore her, the stronger she comes on. He’s a thin thread away from telling her to just fuck off, but he doesn’t want to be rude. Besides, he knows you’re busy. He might not get to talk to you this time, but he will – or at least he hopes he will – especially if everything goes according to his plan.

He’s not even sure if what he intends to do can be classified as a plan. Hell, he’s just glad that he even has a spare business card in his wallet.

He scans the dining room for you, and once he spots you, he rises from the booth and intentionally catches your eye. With the worn card in hand, folded between the folds of some cash, he hopes that you understand his message when he nods and tucks it under the coffee cup. Please call. He’s not sure he’s ever been more hopeful for anything, ever.

He swings by the grocery store on his way home, picking up some beer and a frozen pizza, too tired to cook anything real for dinner. He sinks into the cushions of his couch and tries to drown out his hopefulness with the distraction of T.V. But, he’d be lying if he said his heart rate doesn’t quicken with every notification that comes through his phone.

But you don’t call or text.

He thinks that maybe you’re just trying to play it cool, not wanting to come across as too eager.

But as the days go on, still not a peep from you, he tries to shove down the darker thoughts that cross his mind. Maybe he had misinterpreted the signals you were giving him, misread the energy that feels palpable when you’re next to each other. Maybe he’s just out of practice. Not your type.

You don’t want him. Why would you? He’s just some contractor, an old washup. Probably one of dozens of men who spend their nights waiting, wishful and hungry for even just a glance from you. One of the dozens of men who spew hot loads of come onto their bellies alone at night brought to a tipping point thinking about how sweet you might sound chanting their name, how tight your pussy would feel gripped around their cock.

Fuck.

++++

Some weeks later, he’s pulling another late night at the job site. And when the fluorescent lights get to be too much, he decides to call it a night. He can’t quite put a finger on it, but there’s a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, a silent feeling like he should swing by the restaurant – maybe even apologize for coming on too strong or weirding you out. Before he can even rationalize what he’s doing, he’s once again pulling into the parking lot. Except –

Somethings wrong.

There’s only one car in the parking lot, and the neon open sign remains lit, but something feels…off.

He can feel it, like some sort of primal instinct laying dormant in his body has woken up.

It all happens so fast, faster than his mind can register. When he sees you, struggling in the hands of some fucker, he intervenes. He moves fast, doesn’t think twice, just lets his body take over. He pulls the man off of you, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his blood red hot, and his jaw tense.

“I’d think twice if I were you before you try and win this one,” he says, voice low and threatening. Don’t make me go to jail tonight.

He’s not surprised he hits the guy as hard as he does. He barely feels it, the bone-crunching under his fist. He’d probably kill the guy if you weren’t right there, watching his every move. It’s not a fair fight, not really. Joel knows he’s bigger and stronger, and has the unfair advantage of being sober. He can tell he probably broke the guy's nose, and that’s probably punishment enough. He drags the man out of the establishment and tells him to get the fuck out and never come back. He hopes the warning is enough, the message clear that if he tries to touch you again, ever, it’ll end worse. He’ll make sure of that.

He locks the door and turns to face you. You look so – scared. So innocent, shaken, like a baby deer who just saw its mother get hit by a truck. He even thinks for a second that you might be afraid of him, a thought that makes his heart sink. I would never hurt you. He brings both of his hands to the sides of your arms – keeping the touch intentionally light, with a gentle, reassuring grip. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe now.

“You alright?” he asks, watching with concern as you try and put on a brave face. God, he hates to see you cry, hates that anything could ever make you cry. He can tell you’re trying to avoid looking at him, not wanting him to see your vulnerability.

It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you.

He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and uses the edge of his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. God, you’re perfect.

The hand that meets his is soft until a sharp sting comes to his attention. He watches as you grab his hand and bring it down to your eye level, noticing the blood on it, a giant split down the middle of one of his knuckles. Fuck that guy. He wishes he would have given him just a little more, maybe a black eye or two.

"You're hurt," you say, the tears in your eyes now replaced with genuine concern.

He can tell you’re worried about him, a fact that makes him feel a little fuzzy inside.

"It's okay, don't worry about it, doesn't hurt," he tries to reassure you. And he is. He’s suffered worse, nothing that won’t be better in a day or two, even if it does sting like hell right now.

"We've got a first aid kit in the back. Let me clean you up," you insist, nodding towards the rear of the room.

He doesn’t want you to have to put up with that right now, especially after everything that just happened.

"It’s alright sweetheart, you don't have to, really…" he protests.

"You just defended me. Bandaging your knuckles is the least I can do to thank you," you tell him firmly, leaving no room for refusal.

Fuck, you’re so sweet. So perfect and sweet. You could ask him for the moon and he’d try to find a way to lasso it down for you.

His heart quickens as you interlace your fingers with his on his left hand and guide him through the restaurant. He even chuckles a little to himself when you tell him to watch his step. You’re being so nice, he can’t be misinterpreting this – there’s no way. But why didn’t you call? The question weighs heavy on his mind.

In the small office, you flick on the light switch and rummage through the cabinets until you find an old first aid kit tucked away in the back. He leans against the desk, quietly observing you, taking in the fact that he’s here, in this tiny office, with you. That you care enough to help him. That he cares enough to protect you.

"Ah, got it," you say with a hint of excitement that you found the kit, a little surprised there was even one stashed away. Though most of the bandages and finger condoms are missing, there's still plenty of gauze and alcohol wipes.

His cock twitches a little when you rip open the alcohol wipe with your teeth, he thinks you might be good with your mouth in more ways than one.

"This might sting a bit," you warn, meeting his gaze with genuine care. I can take it, baby. He can tell the way you’re being with him right now might be your nature, to want to take care of those around you. To be what they need.

“‘You can make it up to me later,” he whispers, hoping you’re sensing the intention behind his words. As you’re patting the blood on his knuckles, he feels the need to know why you didn’t call bubble up to the surface, the question at the tip of his tongue. Oh just ask her.

“Can I ask you something,” he says, looking down at you, not even realizing he’s holding his breath. He exhales when he hears you say mhmm in response.

Rip off the fucking bandaid man.

“Why didn’t you call?”

He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I wanted to. I mean, I almost did – I typed out so many texts to you it’s borderline embarrassing,” you pause for a second to grab the gauze from the counter behind him. As you lean in closer to him, you bring with you the soft scent of your shampoo. You smell like honey and the earthy, clove smell of tobacco. You smell divine.

“I guess I’m just not used to being wanted. Don’t know how to do this kind of thing. I’ve been alone for so long, and I guess, I don’t know, Joel,” you affix a little piece of tape to the gauze, before dropping his hand, all finished. How could anyone not want you?

He watches you intently as you stand before him, grateful that you’re being so honest with him. He wishes so badly you would look him in the eye.

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Not sure why a guy like you would even want a girl like me to call him anyway…” you trail off, letting out a small cough to hide the emotion creeping up in your throat. Is she joking?

He floats his hands up to your hips, and he tugs you in closer to him, body weight still propped up against the desk, his thick thighs bracketing yours. You still avoid his eyes, your gaze seemingly fixed on a button on his shirt.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

His hand still hurts a little, a dull throb, but he could care less right now. He trails it up over the side of your body until his fingers land under your chin. Sweet girl. He uses his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. You look so beautiful right now, so raw and so perfect. The soft plush of your lips draws his attention, and he can’t help but touch them.

There’s so much he could say, so much he wants to say. He wants to build you up, to tell you that you’re worthy of the whole world. That you’re beautiful and kind, and that any man would be lucky to have you. He doesn’t even have to deeply know you to know those things.

But he can tell from the look in your eyes that it’s not what you need right now. He’ll tell you someday. He’ll tell you every day if you’ll have him.

But no.

Right now you don’t need someone to tell you how gorgeous you are, you need someone to show you.

“Joel,” he hears you whisper, knowing full well that his thumb is still on your lower lip. He wants so badly to know what they’d feel like on his.

“Ki–”

Fuck it.

He drops his hand and leans in to crash his lips into yours, and holy shit. He wants you so fucking bad. He’s never wanted anything, or anyone, more.

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and his cock hardens when you let out a little whimper. He holds you tighter to his chest, his thick and capable hands admiring the soft curves of your hips. He needs more, needs to taste your skin, needs to know what it feels like on his lips. He dips his mouth to your neck, kitten-kissing you as delicately as he can. More, he needs more.

He skims his injured hand underneath your shirt, caressing the skin between your shoulder blades. Jesus, you’re so impossibly soft, your skin feels like silk compared to his. He nips at your jaw, and the soft moan escapes your lips makes him feel feral.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna go slow with you, take my time. Do it right,” he says, internally acknowledging how wrecked it comes out.

He trails his hand up and pulls the shirt of your uniform down over your breast, exposing the simple lacey bra. Ugh. It’s so much for him, the little moans you keep making for him as he kisses your neck, the way your nipples respond beneath the fabric to his touch.

“Wanna show you what you’re worthy of sweet girl, in all the ways,” he groans into your chest, and he means it.

“I want you to fuck me so badly,” you blurt out, lost in the delusion of arousal.

Fuck. Yes.

His cock is rock hard, so stiff it’s almost painful. He doesn’t even remember the last time he was this hard. He wants so badly for you to just fall to your knees in this tiny little office and suck it. He wants so badly to hold the column of your throat while he shoves his thick cock into your wet and waiting mouth, feel him deep down your throat. More. He needs more.

He hopes to god that you’ll chant his name like a prayer when he unravels you like a spool of thread. He can hear it in his head now, as he licks your soft skin and holds you against him. He can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’ll sound when you come for him.

“Patience, angel baby. You’re in good hands,” he purrs.

“Can I undress you?” he asks. He wants you to know that you’re in control here, that hel’ll only do what you want him to and nothing more. You call the shots.

You toe off your beat-up sneakers and work to take off your shirt and bra, and he works to unbutton your skirt. Fucking buttons. He thinks it’s cute the way you wiggle your hips to assist him in removing the barrier. After what seems like no time at all, you’re nearly fully nude in front of him, bare save the thin cotton of your panties. Perfection. You are perfection.

He frowns a little when he notices you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your body.

“God damn, sweetheart. Look at you,” he says, taking a small step back and admiring the view. He thinks you’re a masterpiece, a piece of art holding court just for him to gaze at. He’s never really considered himself to be lucky, but he must have done something right to have you right here with him right now.

He gently grabs the arm you’re covering yourself with and exposes your bare chest. Don’t hide, baby.

“No need’ta hide from me,” he tries to reassure you.

You push your chest out to him, for him. He accepts your offering; swipes a calloused thumb across your plush, silky nipple, and crouches to catch the other in his desperate mouth. He groans into your chest the second your nipple meets his lips. He smirks at the sound of the deep hum that escapes from your throat, lips still attached to your breast.

“Feels so good, Joel,” you moan. Just getting started with you.

He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, across the soft swell of your stomach, doing his best to whisper sweet praises as he does. It feels so good, so natural when you drape your hands over his broad shoulders and thread your fingers through the curls. It’s been so long since he’s been touched like that, the feeling goes straight to his cock. More. More. More.

He can tell you’re a little hesitant, maybe a little lost in your thoughts. He does his best to pull you back to him. On his knees, he places both of his hands on the curves of your hips and holds you steady while he looks up at you. You look so beautiful looking down at him, your lips slightly parted, your skin shiny from the sheen of sweat, your obvious arousal evident on your face. He wonders what he must look like to you.

“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, hooking his thumbs in the band of them. He wants to hear you say it, to permit him to cross that line.

“You, um, you don’t have to. It’s okay, really…” you shy away.

Please, he pleads to himself silently.

He presses his nose into your mound and fuck, you smell so good, he can’t help but moan.

“Smell so sweet, need to taste you, sweetheart. I won’t if you don’t want me to, but fuck, I would love to,” he says, and it’s true. He suspects you’ve never had a real man take care of you, taking the time to pleasure you to your heart’s content. A damn shame.

“O-kay,” you say on an exhale.

“I gotcha, don’t worry,” he rasps out, his voice equal parts gentle, and gruff with desire. He wants to reassure you.

He gently tugs the fabric down over your thighs, the fabric gathering at your ankles. You take a small step out of them, and he gently caresses up the back of your calve, and back of your thigh, his hand landing on the curve of your ass. He tightly grabs the flesh there. He gently guides your leg up onto one of his shoulders, and you press back into the wall and lean your pelvis closer to him.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praises, before leaning in to place an experimental kiss on the top of your mound. He thinks this might be the most perfect pussy he’s ever seen in his life. Making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, he looks at you to make sure you’re okay with him continuing.

He’s eager, and he’s sure it’s coming across in the way he’s kissing you. Once you’re comfortable with his mouth on you, he glides the middle finger of his non-bandaged hand through your wet slit before flipping it so it’s wrist up, pausing with the pad of it right at the entrance of your tight hole.

He thinks he could come right there, with the way you’re looking down at him with lusty doe eyes and biting your lower lip. He watches your face as he gently nudges the tip in. Fuck, you’re so tight. He holds it there for a brief second, his restraint threadbare, before fully thrusting it up into your core.

“Fuck angel, you’re tight,” he moans as he continues to feel you, eventually putting his mouth back on your pussy, sealing his lips around your puffy clit. He pumps his finger in and out of you and flicks and swirls his tongue where he can feel you need it the most. You’re so wet for him, so tight, so willing. If he weren’t already on his knees, he knows he’d fall to them eventually, he’d worship at your alter every day if you’d let him.

“More,” you moan, “Fuck–please, Joel, give me more,” you mewle.

“That’s my girl, gonna stretch you out, get you nice and ready for this cock,” he whispers against your wet skin as he slips another finger in, one you greedily accept. He devours you, licks at you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, because you are. He could stay here for hours, making you come for him again and again.

He can tell you’re close, so he picks up his pace. You’re nearly there, seconds away from giving him what he wants. Just one more –

“Holy shit, yes, I’m coming, oh my god, don’t stop,” you unravel for him, a babbling mess of pleasure, he holds you steady as he works you through it. Perfect, sweet girl. The taste of your release and the pretty sounds you make coming have his cock aching. He gently hoists your leg off of his shoulder and rises to full height.

“Such a good girl for me, you come so pretty,” he whispers against your neck, nipping at your jaw until your lips find his. He wonders if you’ve ever tasted yourself before, or if he’s the first to kiss you after eating you out – the thought makes him even harder, to know he might be the first to show you how sweet you taste.

He watches as you begin to kneel before him. He stops you before your knees touch the floor.

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” you ask. He does. Of course he does. He’s just not sure he’d last, but he’d never admit that, besides, there’s something he needs so much more right now.

“Oh angel baby, I would love to feel those sweet little lips of yours wrapped tight around my cock, hold your throat as you choke on me,” he coos.

He groans as he feels you bring your palm to cup him through his jeans, drinking in the sensation of your hands tracing over him. His jaw tightens and his head falls back as you work over him. His cock welcomes the attention, too. He’s already leaking, he needs to come so bad.

“But there’s something I want more right now. Feel what you do to me?” he says, pressing your hand harder down onto him. “Need to feel that sweet, tight cunt of yours around me first,” he says intensely. You make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and slip off his jeans and boxers in one swoop. It feels so good to be free of the confines of his pants, the pressure on his cock a little less overwhelming now.

“Yo–you’re so big,” you say, a little intimidated. He grabs you by the hips and holds you tight against him, his cock pressed between your bodies against the bare flesh of your tummy. He can tell you might be a little overwhelmed, but he reassures you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can take it,” he says, using one hand to grab the back of your thigh and tapping the other. He lifts you with ease and spins you around so you’re sitting on the mahogany desk in front of him. He stands between your legs, holding himself by the base, pumping himself slowly up and down his length with his fist. He stares at your wet, aching hole, wishing he was buried inside of it. The thought dawns on him that he doesn’t have a condom. No, fuck. “I’m on birth control,” you say, blurting it out. “And I’m clean, you don’t have to use a condom, I mean, if you don’t want to.” And shit – that’s quite possibly the best sentence he’s ever heard in his entire life.

He knows it might be a little reckless, but he doesn’t have any reason to believe you’d lie to him.

“Okay. Open your legs wide for me, baby. Wanna see you,” he says, and you do as he tells you. He sees his hard cock in his hand and opens his mouth to spit on it. You’re wet and ready, but he knows he’s a lot to take, and he doesn’t want to hurt you.

He admires the way you’re holding your legs open for him, giving him full access to your cunt. He positions himself at your entrance and gently pushes his hips forward so the tip of him is inside of you. Holy fuck. He pauses there, giving you a second to adjust.

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see you as I take what’s mine,” he says, his voice a wreck. When you open them, he sinks even deeper. Halfway inside of you, he pauses again. How is he ever supposed to last with your pussy clenched this tight around him.

He asks if you’re okay, and when you nod, he pushes in a little more, dragging back out of you for only a second, until he’s jutting his hips forward, fully burying himself deep inside of you. Nothing has ever felt this good to him, nothing could ever compare.

Jesus, think of something else – make this last. He tries to distract his mind, disconnect his cock from his brain, but there’s no point. His primal urges have taken over, his body is losing the war with his mind.

He sets a slow and steady rhythm at first, dragging in and out of you. He would love to fuck you harder, deeper. He knows he won’t last long, but he doesn’t care, as long as he gets you to come for him one more time.

“You can fuck me harder, Joel. ‘M not gonna break, I promise,” you coo. His hand flexes tighter, and that’s all he needs. Give the girl what she wants. “Shit, c’mere,” he says, helping you off the desk, steading your legs. He flips you over and presses you against the desk. Your hips are perfectly positioned at the edge. He’s not sure anything could be prettier than you bent over, waiting to once again be stuffed with him.

He stands behind you, angles your hips up slightly, and once again buries himself in you.

“Such a perfect cunt,” he groans, beginning to set a relentless pace. As good as this feels for him, he can tell that something about this angle does something for you, too. His cock fits just right, pushing and gliding over the spongey spot inside of you that he can tell is gonna be the thing that pushes you over the cliff of your orgasm. He holds your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, eliciting throaty moans from you. The air is filled with the filthy wanton sound of skin slapping against skin.

“I –” you mew, “I think I’m gonna come again,” he hears you say, a little breathless.

“Come for me, baby. Be the good girl I know you are and show me how pretty you are when you come on my cock,” he says, a little out of breath, voice deep.

Yeah, that’s right. Use me.

And you do. Your pussy pulses around him as the wave of your orgasm takes over you, and it’s borderline too much for him. He’s gotta slow down if he’s gonna last another second.

“Where do you want me, baby?”

“Inside, please. Want you to fill me up, make me yours,” you beg for him.

Holy fuck.

After a few more thrusts of his hips, he begins to stutter and slow. He pauses buried to the hilt inside of you and groans as his cock paints your insides with thick ropes of come. The immediate release of pressure is exhilarating, probably the best orgasm he’s ever had. He feels his cock pulse out final spurts of come, eliciting shakes from him with each one. He feels weightless like he could fly away and sleep on a cloud.

The sensation of him pulling out is a little much, his cock raw and spent. “Stay there,” he says, scurrying off to the kitchen, looking for something he can give you to help clean you up. His eye catches a roll of paper towels next to the sink and he grabs a handful of them for you.

When he enters the office, he notices how breathtaking you look post-orgasm, post-fuck. It’s a sight he’ll commit to memory forever. He presses his lips to yours again, drinking in your sweetness once more. He thinks he could kiss you forever and never tire of it.

He helps you get dressed, and you fasten his belt buckle for him and check the gauze on his fist. You both stand there in silence, not quite sure where to go from here, until he offers up.

“Wanna smoke?”

++++

“So, how long have you lived here’?” he asks, holding open the lit zippo from his back pocket to you. With the cigarette dangling between your lips, you steady it between your fingers and lean in, he admires your features amidst the dim glow of the fire. So beautiful.

“Too long,” you mumble. He lights his own.

“And you, where are you off to next?” He hears you ask, and he's not sure how to respond.

“Not sure, the contract job my brother and I have in the county over ends in a week or so. Was thinkin’ it might be nice to head south, maybe Austin,” he responds, smoke twirling in the air around you both.

“Although, ‘M not so sure anymore. Starting to think I might have a few things I need to take care of here first,” he says, shifting his gaze from the ground until his hooded eyes find yours. You. I need to take care of you.

You smile when he winks at you. Gosh, you’re cute when you smile. He wants to be the reason you smile every day.

You stand there in comfortable silence, leaning up against the wall next to him. He thinks it feels nice to be wanted, to have someone to just be with.

And when it’s time to go, he offers you his hand and a ride home. He’s pleased when you accept.

It’s too soon. He knows it’s too soon, but the thought of you in the passenger seat of his truck, feet on the dash, wind in your hair, makes his heart skip a beat.

He wants more.

And something tells him you do, too.

END

Ily. Thanks for reading! Tags: @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @morallyinept @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @morgaussy @likeficsinthewnd @morning-star-joy @agentjackdaniels @cayleej @amyispxnk @zialltops @syd-djarin @untamedheart81 @gracevnn @pedrossl4t @littlevenicebitch69 @chulopascal

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #consent #joel miller #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller fanfic #Joel's POV

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sanjisprincesswifey · 2 months

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loves embrace ⋆ sanji x reader

summary: all sanji needed was a little bit of love to open up to you

notes: this was a modified request that takes place post whole cake, i suppose, so spoilers! angsty, sad sanji (sadji) x gender neutral reader! lots of comforting! no cw warnings! around 1,300+ words!

every morning sanji had a routine. he’d wake up fifteen minutes before his alarm, making sure to turn it off so as to not wake you. spending this allotted time drowning in your smell; he tangled his long limbs within yours and held you tightly to him.

he’d depart with a few too many kisses, surely bringing you out from your slumber, neatly fixing his side of the bed, and beginning his day with a spring in his step.

today was an anomaly of days, your eyes slowly blinking open, the room swallowed by a dim light. the overcast in the sky seemed to cause you to wake later than you anticipated, the clock on your wall reading 11:37 am.

the sheets beside you, usually folded over as pristinely as sanji could make them, sat in disarray. had it been anyone else, you’d disregard the notion; perhaps he had run too far behind schedule this morning.

but it was unlike sanji, even in a time crunch, to leave a mess in his absence. he was incredibly anal with situations like these, you knew him too well to brush the idea off as forgetfulness as you approach him in the kitchen.

the creaky door that franky keeps forgetting to fix would normally signal your entrance and cue your boyfriend to fawn all over you, but he remains behind the kitchen sink, not budging an inch.

his blonde hair hangs low, hiding his expression from you as he gingerly places the wet plates on the drying rack.

“sanji?” you question, investigating his face once he notices you’re there.

your brows furrow upon further examination; his blue eyes are accompanied by dark under eye bags and his milky skin is dull, the loss of color noticeable, even for his complexion.

“oh, my swan, how’re you? you missed breakfast.” he smiles, but the way his lips loosely hug, you know it’s purely a facade so as to not draw attention from you.

though you had only been dating for a few months, you knew you had to plan out your next moves carefully and approach the situation with caution. sanji would “i’m fine” himself death had he got the chance.

“was dreaming of you, so i didn’t really want to wake up,” you tease, earning a light laugh from him.

from this point on, he’d usually take the opportunity to discuss his night and what his dreams consisted of, but silence then falls over you two.

“did you eat?” you speak up.

he pulls his hands out of the water, drying them off on a nearby dish towel. “wasn’t hungry.”

as soon as he moves around the counter, you step in front of him.

you tsk in response, blocking him from exiting the area with arms crossed over your chest. “well, i’d like for you to eat something. you didn’t eat dinner last night either,” you reply.

sanji stares down at you, a melancholy look in his eye, but he obliges, dropping two slices of bread into the toaster.

“that’s it?” you argue, a mused smile curling his lips.

“i’m really not that hungry today, my darling,” he assures, leaning against the counter.

you know better than to accept that justification, arms reaching out to cage him between the kitchen and your body. “and why is that?” you ask, pressing yourself against his chest, eyes boring right back into his.

he flicks his gaze between your eyes, then your lips, and then your eyes, once again. he knows what you’re doing, but he bites anyway, strong arms hugging you snug against him.

“i’ve been a little sad these past couple of days,” he explains, another forged grin coaxing his features. it was the one of the first signs that he was asking you to dismiss this conversation.

“sanji—“

the toast pops from the toaster, causing the both of you to release your grip as he refocuses his attention on his unwanted meal.

with his back turned to you, you take it upon yourself to latch onto him again. “i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me sanji. i’m here. i want to help,” you whisper, a shaky breath escaping your throat right after. “please, let me help.”

your eyes shut tightly as the only response you receive is silence. sanji was never one to discuss his own feelings freely, it was something he had always deemed a luxury for a reason you hated reminding yourself of.

a shaky whimper reverberates against your body and you take the cue to release your grip, turning him around so that you can see him again.

his hand grips tightly onto his face, though it proves futile as a tear streams down his cheek; then another, and another, and another. his fingers twitch as they reach out for you, desperately seeking your warmth and comfort as his body slumps into yours.

sanji’s frame is much larger than your own, his strength of his weight was much stronger when he didn’t remember to hold back.

but you’re greedy for this vulnerability, soaking in every ounce that he’d offer as you wrap your arms around his neck.

his tears slowly seep into the fabric of your shirt, while he lets out a few more choked cries before confessing. “have i ever told you about my mother?” he finally speaks.

when he pulls away you shake your head, reaching up to wipe away the tears that stain his face. your gentle expression urges, pleads, for him to continue, an act that melts his heart.

“she was so kind,” he explains, a sad smile grazing him. more tears fall before he says anything, but you allow him that grace which gives him the time to finally gather himself. “she’s the reason i wanted to be a cook.”

the burning sadness that bites at your heart leaves you speechless, unable to fathom how he could’ve kept this inside for so long.

“i know she would’ve loved you.”

now, you have to bite back your own tears, the agony that accompanies his words hangs on to each sentence that tears at your heart.

“she passed fourteen years ago today,” he admits, a shaky sigh heaving from his chest.

as you watch his lip quiver, you pull him flush against you again, unsure if it was for his benefit or that he wouldn’t see the heartbreak that washed over your face.

“i’m so sorry,” is all you can mutter before the both of you sink to the floor, sobs now emanating from the both of you. “she would be so proud of you, sanj,” you murmur, a light cry echoing throughout the room.

sanji perches himself against the closed cupboards, his head rests against the wood as he wraps an arm around you.

“i miss her,” he admits, lying his head against yours.

you nod, only able to physically act in fear a verbal response would elicit more of your tears.

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a worn, folded up picture.

the woman on the paper is stunning; her porcelain features mirror sanji’s, the resemblance being uncanny. “she’s so pretty,” you say.

sanji chuckles, nodding along, “yeah, she was.”

the both of you stare at the image for a couple of minutes, basking in the beauty that sanji’s mother had. you can’t help but admire the curvature of her lips, the shape of nose and eyes, all qualities that your boyfriend possesses.

“you look just like her,” you comment, reaching to grab his hand.

“so i’ve been told,” he breathes, finally able to catch his breath. “thank you, by the way.”

with a puzzled expression, you glance up at him. “for what?”

sanji shrugs, squeezing your hand within his. “listening to me. feels good to talk about her,” he confesses.

the air in the room eases, it hangs lighter over the both of you; rather than an all consuming fog, it sits delicately upon the both of you like a warm blanket on a cold day.

“that’s what i’m here for,” you emphasize, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated !

#black leg sanji #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece x reader

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nkogneatho · 3 months

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

—cw: this is just hella angst and a lil fluffy, character death, jjk au but altered a bit, megumi is reader's son and toji and reader are couples so don't get this twisted because of the tags.

—a/n: please cry. or do inhave to cut onions??? no but fr i was sobbing hard while writing this because yaknow how much i love my man :(( please give feedbacks tho i love reading them.

your eyes were resting close. there was sense of guilt, panic and fear gnawing megumi as he sat on the stool next to your hospital bed. there were a million reasons he could've prevented this. a million. but what is supposed to happen, happens. if he rushed home quicker, you, his mother wouldn't be lying on the hospital bed right now. if only he would've been aside you, keeping you company instead of on a mission, he would've saved you from those corrupt sorcerers. but it happened. and now he was scared, praying every god to turn back time or save you somehow even when the doctor's had announced you wouldn't make it.

you fluttered your eyes open, and slowly adjusted your head to meet your son who was resting his face in his hands, probably sobbing.

"me-gumi..."

"MOM?" his voice was drenched in panic and fear but he eased it out, making sure not to startle you. "you're fine. you're completely alright. just rest and go to sleep okay?"

"since when do you lie to your mom?" he was stunned you caught his lie "i know...i know my body better than anyone else," you stated. his lips quivered in guilt. poor boy. why does he blame himself for everything?

"gumi?" he couldn't form words so he just replied with a hum. "it's not your fault. i don't blame you for anything."

"but—"

"you're the best son i could ever ask for. i know i didn't give birth to you, but not once i ever felt like you weren't my son...not on—not once did i ever feel like you weren't a part of my heart...", a tear rolled of his eye. "so don't blame yourself or you'll be insulting my heart."

"you are the best mother ever." you chuckled lightly because you remembered once he brought an essay home with the same topic. "my mom is the best mom in the world," in his crooked handwriting and drawing of you and his dad holding hands with him. oh right. dad. he knew it was his dad that he fought in shibuya when you told him when he was finally ready. he spiraled into a emotional mess to gulp everything and then your words finally cleared the blurry pictures he had in his head of his childhood.

"is there something you want me to tell your dad when i meet him?" megumi stopped breathing for a few seconds before he finally let out a sigh.

"tell papa...i am sorry." megumi and toji never really had that deep and close father-son bond. there as never a right time in their life.

"he is not mad at you megumi. we're—we're parents. we will always love our child even when they hate us. and you hated him for the right reasons." he was in the verge of sobbing. "megumi...look at me." he lifted his head to meet your eyes. "your dad loved you. he really did. and i am sure when i meet him...he will ask about you first."

"promise me you'll be my mom again in the next life?" he offered his pinky.

"i promise." you entagled your pinky with his.

"i love you mom." you smiled. you didn't say it back. you didn't need to. he knew that you loved him so much.

megumi gently took your hand resting on the hospital mattress and tucked it between his palms. he was warm. or maybe it was your blood running cold. colder and colder till you shut off your eyes, the smile disappearing as your muscles relaxed and heart gave up. megumi's eyes lost inq containing the river of tears and they finally rolled down.

*sounds of waves*

you opened your eyes to bright blue sky mirroring on the ocean, the waves emerging and lacing your feet, the sand tickling your toes. you looked around to find something else but it was all just...beach. till your eyes fell on someone they've been starving to see for years. your husband. the love of your life was right in front of you.

toji smiled and you exhaled in relief, but the exhale bought the years of pent up pain appear on your face, making tears fall constantly.

"i waited for so long, baby." god, his voice. you missed it so much.

you ran. you ran till you were in the arms of your lover, and toji embraced you like he would never let go. "i am here." you cried and he did too. his lips pressed against yours so tightly. he stopped to look at you and ponder at your beautiful face. a face everyday that he tried not to forget. he never could but now you were here finally.

"how's megumi?"

"that idiot. always blaming himself. did you mention how shitty i was?"

"he said "tell papa i am sorry, ha."

toji laughed.

"i did. but he still loves you." you both thought it was funny. "he's your son after all. doesn't show it, but he's stubborn like you inside."

"i am not stubborn."

"yes you are. you got yourself killed even when i told you not to. you left me alone to survive in a world without you even when i told you don't. do you know how hard it was everyday to live without you, toji?" your words getting a little unclear towards the end as you sobbed and yelled.

toji hugged you once again. "i am sorry."

"you should be!"

"i know." he kissed your forehead. "why don't you tell me what happened all these years while we take a walk on a beach?" your puppy eyes peered up at him. "we have forever now."

#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #megumi angst #jjk fluff #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk drabbles

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ms-demeanor · 2 months

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Why do you like the desert?

good smells, good sounds, good animals. I like how dry the air is and I like sandstorms. I really really love it when it rains in the desert and the whole world smells like creosote and all the flowers open up in the morning. I like how clear the skies are and I like big tall stacks of thunderclouds and I like how bright the moonlight is and I like how many stars you can see. I like red rocks and sand dunes and the big cracks in dry lakebeds. I like lizards and roadrunners and big rangy hares and rattlesnakes and owls. I like going out on moonless nights to look for scorpions, because there are more of them out when the moon is down because it lets them hunt better and you can look for them with a black light and watch them glow. I like random people on ATVs buzzing past and letting the air out of the tires a little bit to get through the canyon. I like finding cabins that are getting eaten by the wind and are full of rat's nests and old books with the words weathered away. I like the way the line between the sky and the earth turns pink and blue at the beginning and the end of the day. I like seeing the milky way and watching meteors and hearing echoes and hearing nothing and hearing cicadas cicadas cicadas.

When my Uncle died, I drew these two pieces because locating him in my memory took me to these two places; a backyard with a fence between us and the coyotes as we looked up at the stars and a red rock canyon quiet and full of dark shadows.

The thing that I didn't draw is a man standing in a sandy flat surrounded by creosote bushes holding a kite-string in his teeth teeth and splicing it with his fishing line so that I could fly my little pink kite higher in the big blue sky than it was really meant to go.

goddamn do i love the desert and miss my family.

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kana-daydreams · 21 days

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𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐨

summary: zoro decides just for your sake and his, for once, to allow himself to express a feeling he’d long buried inside him after Kuina’s death—and a feeling he’s only ever had for you. genre: mild angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.2k

I love you.

Settled atop the crow’s nest dome- shaped roof of the Thousand Sunny, Zoro’s dark-brown eyes dart open to meet splotches of fluffy white painted across a canvas of endless blue.

A gentle breeze rustles his clothes and threads through his mint-green hair as he lays with his back pressed flat against the roof’s surface, head cushioned by his arms, while his gaze continues to follow the clouds lazily gliding across the sky.

I love you.

Zoro clicks his tongue when he hears the words teasing melody continue to play in his head.

Words that had repeated its haunting every daylight, and every nightfall.

Words you’d confessed to him weeks ago—and words he had thought would be your last.

Why did you do it?

Zoro still relives the moment when he watched your body go limp in his arms, crimson red trailing its way down in gushing streams from the wound in your torso.

Why did you risk your life to save his?

A question that lingered along with your confession deep within his mind during the couple of weeks you’d remained a victim of sleep.

A furrow lines Zoro’s brows, deepening as he unwillingly recalls the urgent scream of your voice calling his name, followed by the sound of steel tearing through flesh and then the painful sight of your body collapsing, motionless, in a pool of red.

After the tragic occurrence, day after day, Zoro would visit you inside the sick bay. It was a difficult task at first, seeing your comatose state, but he made it part of his daily routine to check up on you. And assisted Chopper where he could, sometimes spending the entire day by your side and wishing that you would just open your damn eyes.

And during that time he spent with you and without you, he prayed.

Zoro never believed there was a god but yet, for you—he did.

Like a devout believer, day in and day out, he prayed and hoped for a miracle.

Hoped that some god— any god—would hear his prayer and that you would awake from your seemingly endless sleep.

Though when a couple of weeks had flitted past and you showed no signs of waking up, the little faith he’d mustered started to wane.

Waned until like a flame drawn down to a single spark of light left with nothing to fuel its burn, it extinguished.

But today Zoro’s flame reignites.

At the sound of Chopper's crying voice, Zoro’s body bolts upright, his eyes drawing wide when he hears him announce in between sniffles and hiccups, that you’re awake.

And in an instant, he’s on his feet.

And in an instant, his legs carry him with desperate steps towards the direction of the sick bay, Zoro thinking to himself, despite his once wavering belief—for the first time—a god really just might exist.

“Nami, Robin— you guys are going to hurt her!” Chopper’s worried voice warns the two women hugging the life out of you—literally, Chopper thinks.

“Okay, just one more hug.” Nami snivels, long tears rolling down her cheeks as she gives you one last squeeze before she and Robin unwrap their arms from around you, moving to stand amongst the rest of the crew huddled around your bed.

Your eyes scan each of their tear-stained faces like your own, at the same time searching for the perpetual stone-cold expression of Zoro’s, your heart sinking when there’s no sight of it.

“I’m so happy to see everyone.” You manage a weak smile, brushing off the disappointed feeling at the swordsman’s absence, and instead focus on the wide smiles, happy tears and collective expressed words of happiness and relief of your long-awaited recovery.

For the next hour or so, the sick bay’s room is permeated with mirthful chatter and laughter until Chopper starts kicking everyone out, informing them of your much needed rest.

“I don’t understand? Why would she need more sleep?” Luffy who sits cross-legged at the foot of your bed asks with a genuinely confused expression. “She’s been sleeping for we—” he’s interrupted when Nami grabs a hold of one of his ears and forcefully starts dragging him out of the room, the scene making a small laughter bubble up your chest.

Luffy’s painful groans and complaining voice drowns out when the door clicks close behind them, and with solitude now your only company, your mind is left to idle.

To idle on the memory of Zoro.

To idle on the memory of his mortified features as he held your form, drenched in blood, close to his chest. And the prominent picture of hurt mixed in with other indiscernible emotions that crossed his face when you confessed your years-long harboured love for him, just before your vision turned dark.

You can’t help but wonder exactly what he thought during that moment of your untimely confession, as you absent-mindedly reach your hands under the hem of your shirt, smoothing it along the rough scar that lines across your stomach. A reminder of the small price you had to pay in exchange for the life of the one you’d always cherished with your whole heart, and the one your eyes longed to see the moment you’d opened your eyes.

A sudden rap at the door pulls you out of your thoughts and you rasp out a “You can come in!” wondering if Chopper had returned to check up on you.

However, when the door cracks open, instead of the doctor, it reveals the familiar figure of the man you’ve yearned to see.

You watch as he steps into the room, your eyes catching his steely expression which immediately melts at the sight of you.

Zoro closes the door behind him and wordlessly approaches your bedside, neither of your gazes unyielding from the other. That is until his eyes flicker down to your hand still settled on your exposed stomach, the muscles in his jaw becoming visibly tense.

There’s a silence that settles between you both. One that is equally tense and you can’t help but attempt to lighten the mood.

“Fell asleep again or forgot I existed?” You quirk a brow, a teasing lilt carried in your tone. “I’m placing my bet on the first one.” You chuckle.

“It’s none.”

Your laughter simmers down when you look up to see that Zoro’s features are void of any hint of amusement.

“Oh? Then…”

“I wanted us alone.” He explains and your head tilts in curiosity at his words.

“Alone?”

“Yeah. We need to talk.”

You ponder on what he says. On what the topic of discussion might entail that he didn’t want the others around. And in a second or two, when an answer suddenly dawns on you—that it might be about your declaration of love— you feel a faint touch of warmth caress your cheeks.

Shyly, you pat a hand beside you on the mattress. A motion for him to have a seat.

Zoro takes you up on your offer, joining you on the small bed after removing his swords which he settled in a nearby corner of the room.

“So, what you wanna talk about?” You ask as you feel the bed sink under you from his added weight.

Zoro takes his time to form an answer as his eyes examine you for a bit: the healthy gleam of your skin, the vibrant light in your eyes, and the way your lips curl into that beautiful smile he’d longed missed.

And the longer he takes to respond, the more your heart races in anticipation.

“How do you feel?” He finally asks.

You pout. It isn’t what you expected, but his concern for your well-being at the same time isn’t a surprise.

“A little woozy and tired. But Chopper said I’ll feel better with a little more rest.”

“Right…rest.” Zoro murmurs to himself.

He had been more than determined to see you as soon as he watched the others leave your room that he didn’t consider the toll their long visit had probably taken on you.

“Then you should get some.” He stands to his full height, ready to make his departure, only to be stopped by a sudden and gentle tug on his shirt.

He peers over his shoulder, looking down to see your fingers gripping onto its hem, your face creased with worry.

“Please Zo, don’t leave.” You plead. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You’d noticed it in his tense expression—that what he wanted to discuss carried a heavy weight on his shoulders, though you weren’t exactly sure what it might be if not your confession.

“You need to rest.” Zoro urges.

“I won’t be able to unless you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Your persistence and stubbornness is no surprise to Zoro. He knows all too well that your words are true, and stands there conflicted with your hand still glued to his shirt, before momentarily releasing a deep sigh as he relents to entertaining your request.

You watch as he seats himself near you once more. “Tell me Zo. What is it?” You prompt when a lull falls, lingering between you two.

Zoro’s eyes sweep down to where your hands lay before flitting up to meet your worried eyes. “Why…” He pauses for a beat as if gathering his thoughts, before he pieces together the rest of his words; finally asking the question, though not in full, that has been long weighing on his mind. “Why did you do it?”

Your brows wrinkle, confused. “Do what?”

When his gaze leaves your own and you notice it drops down to your stomach, you immediately come to comprehend the meaning behind his words.

“Because I wanted to.” A smile pulls at your lips.

A smile that makes Zoro’s hands, unnoticeably to you, ball into fists.

A couple of weeks ago, you were on the brink of death because of him and now you’re here, smiling warmly up at him, saying that you didn’t mind that you’d almost die!

Zoro’s fingers curl, digging deeper into the palm of his hands.

He’s happy—overjoyed, though his features mask the feeling—that you’re okay and that he gets the chance to see your smiling face again. But what if he had lost you?

What if he had lost you, just like he lost…

Zoro shoots up to his feet, your fingers hold on his shirt, ripping away.

“You’re leaving.”

His sudden burst of words leave you to stare dumbfoundedly at him as he walks over to the side of the room where his swords lay, propped up against the wall.

“What do you mean ‘you’re leaving’?”

Zoro faces your direction once he’s finished securing his swords to his hip. “As soon as we dock at the nearest town, you’re getting off.” The tone of his voice hints that there's no room for an argument.

You gape up at him. “You can’t be serious.”

This wasn’t the first time, the second nor the third, that Zoro had tried to get you to leave the ship—and to leave their crew.

He’d wanted you long gone since the day Luffy’d recruited you and tried his earnest to get the boy to throw you off the ship.

Figuratively of course.

“I thought we were past that phase. Aren’t you tired of trying to get rid of me?”

“Not, exactly.” Zoro says and you purse your lips, brows knitting into a frown at his curt and honest reply.

“Well like I’ve told you countless times, Roronoa. I'm not leaving.”

Zoro gives a subtle flinch when you refer to him by his family name instead of the nickname you’d called him since you were children. He then releases a deep sigh meeting your defiant gaze. “Being a pirate isn’t child’s play.” He ends with your name. “It’s dangerous.”

“And, what? You think I don’t know that.” You cross your arms, eyes narrowing.

You were aware that like the others, Zoro was worried about you. But you were here because of your own volition. Not his. A fact you verbally express.

“I’m not a little girl, Roronoa.” You say, voice stern. “I’m an adult. Meaning, I make my own choices.”

Zoro scoffs, almost mockingly at your words. “Yeah, choices that almost left you in a permanent coma, sleeping beauty.”

“I was only trying to protect you.” You feel yourself becoming more pissed, for lack of a better word, at his retort. “You could have died if I didn’t—”

“I ain’t no weakling. I could’ve taken it.” He argues back.

“You don't know that, you arrogant seaweed!”

Zoro was strong. Inhumanly strong. A verifiable truth you’d always known. But like any other human being, he was still mortal—and all mortals bleed. All mortals die.

Seaweed?! Zoro’s brows furrow, the muscles in his face twitching. He then heaves a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look…” he starts, voice much mellow than before. “You’re not a pirate. You’re not me and you’re not Luffy—you’re not like any of us.”

Zoro watches as your expression morphs into a reflection of hurt at his words—and it aches him. But his words are somewhat of the truth. You aren’t like any of them. You don’t have raw strength or devil fruit powers to protect yourself nor are you cautious when faced with life-threatening situations, choosing to tackle those situations head on without much of a drop of hesitation.

And that’s what scared him the most.

“It'd be best if you just go back home where it’s safe.” Zoro finishes, eyes meeting anywhere but your gaze.

“So that’s the real reason you don't want me around?” Your fingers clench around the sheet wrapped around you. “Because I’m weak?”

“That’s not what I mea–”

“Then what do you mean, huh! Zoro Roronoa.” Your eyes well with unshed tears and your voice cracks as you choke back a sob. “Why is it that you keep trying to get rid of me?”

Your question is only met with silence, as Zoro continues to keep his mouth sealed.

“Is it because I’m a burden?”

You weakly voice a thought that’d always remained rampant in your mind since the day Zoro vanished a few years later after Kuina’s death, leaving you only a single letter explaining his aspiration and his pursuit of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman along with a stern warning that you never attempt to search for him.

You’d adhere to his wishes which brought with it many sleepless nights, especially when you thought you would never see him again.

Fortunately, by a stroke of luck, you’d managed to cross paths when you stumbled upon him wandering around like a lost puppy back in one of the towns you usually frequented for selling your goods. And after your fateful reunion, spurred on by what’ve been years of friendship blossomed into unrequited love, you decided to join Zoro in his ambition—and the rest of the straw hats who’d unexpectedly and without a doubt become your home: your family.

“...It is. Isn’t it?” You say when you notice him tense at your assumption.

“No it is’n—”

“Then what is it!” Your voice consumed by a mixture of anger, sadness and disappointment bounces off the walls of the room. “At least tell me why?”

Zoro looks across at you and a pained expression shadows his face when he sees droplets of tears rain from your eyes, wetting your cheeks, falling and seeping into the white sheets clutched in your grasp.

“Why do you want me to leave?” You continue. “Why don't you want me to be a part of your life?” Some of your words get caught up in an uncontrollable storm of hiccups and sobs. “... and I promise Zoro. Tell me why and I promise I’ll leave.”

Zoro was never one to be emotionally transparent. You know that. But you wanted to know why…

Why is it that he was so determined—eager to make you leave?

Why is it that he was so eager to drive you away like you were never a part of his life? And him, never a part of yours.

Silence permeates the room as Zoro’s lips remain sealed shut like before, and as it prolongs so does your impatience.

“If you’re not gonna answer, then go.” You breathe out a weak sigh, feeling new tears starting to emerge. “I’ll leave just like you ask, so just get ou—.”

“‘Cause I love you.” Zoro mumbles out in a rush, that you barely register what he says.

You blink away the tears, directing your attention over at him, more precisely his back. “What…did you say?”

Zoro’s face contorts into a frown, heat burning at his cheeks. “I said…” He grits his teeth, finding it cruel that you were making him repeat such cloying words. “...I l-love you, you idiot.” He stammers out and you notice his ears tinge a dark red.

Your heart stutters at his unanticipated confession, words you’d been longing and hoping to hear for years—and words which render you speechless.

“S-say somethin’” Zoro practically begs, growing increasingly embarrassed by your lack of a reaction, still keeping his body pointed in the opposite direction.

You shake yourself out of your surprised state. “You love me?” You ask as heat fans across your face. “Then…why do you keep pushing me away?”

“..Because you’re reckless.”

Your face contorts into a slight grimace, feeling somewhat offended by his words. “I am not reckless.” You retort, regretting it when he starts to recount childhood memories and those of late, that bear witness to his claim.

Though those events couldn’t compare to the one that almost made him lose you.

The room descends into utter silence when Zoro finishes, leaving you with your head drooped down in embarrassment which had seeped in bit by bit during his narration of your every rash act.

“I can’t…”

You raise your head slowly to look across at Zoro whose voice punctuates the silence. And your heart sinks when you hear the subtle crack of his voice.

“I can’t...” He repeats, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I–we lost her. You—” Zoro grits his teeth, clenching his eyes tightly from the growing pain in his chest. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

To Zoro, you are his everything.

The woman who holds the entirety of his heart in the palm of her hands; all he has that reminds him of home—and a reason other than his promise with Kuina to become the world's greatest swordsman.

Zoro’s hands ball into fists as he feels a burning sensation settle behind his eyes. “I can’t lose you t—”

The words that pained to leave his lips are cut short, when Zoro feels arms wrap, snug around his torso, a soft and familiar body pressing against his back.

“I’m right here, Zo.” You reassure with tears and soft whimpers. “I’m here. And I’m alive.”

Zoro’s heart pounds violently against his chest when you hug him closer to your body, as if trying to prove to him you were real and not just a figment of his imagination.

To your surprise, Zoro turns around and captures you in a tight embrace. “I know…” He presses a light kiss to your hair, letting it linger for a second, before settling his chin atop the crown of your head. “And about what’ve said before. Forget about it.” He says, as your soft sobs continue to fill the room. “I…I don’t want you to leave.”

“You mean it?” You quiver out.

“Yeah.” He replies. “Just please, promise me you’ll be more careful.”

Your eyes flutter close as you snuggle closer into his warmth. “I will. I promise.” You say, both of you, unknown to the other, making a silent vow to become stronger.

Stronger for each other.

#𓇻 kana's op ddrms #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #op fluff #zoro x f!reader #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro x reader #op angst #one piece angst #one piece x you #zoro angst

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japhers · 5 months

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Hey there! Long time lover of your art, and my curiosity got the better of me. I've checked your FAQ but I'm dying to know if you have any tips/tricks for how to render gold. No matter which style you draw it in, whether more painterly or simplified (like for Étienne & Benoît), your gold accents always feel like they have the crucial elements of both warmth and the like. reflectiveness?? ITS THE GOOD STUFF either way

OGH THIS IS GONNA BE A BIT HARD TO EXPLAIN BECAUSE it's a lot of accumulated studies but I'll try ;u;

FIRST OFF: I feel like I have to say that these are all just shortcuts- I've learned just enough about gold to be able to convey the illusion of gold on what I draw, in the fastest way I could do it, for quickly putting the ideas in my head on paper, but this is by no means a comprehensive guide!

If you really want to study the physics of it all, the way it would work with different materials and styles, then I highly suggest doing a lot of self-studies!

Even when painting smth new- if it's really something I want to work hard on, I tend to have gold references open on the side so I can look at them and figure out how they work!

Ok, so moving on:

I like to look for references because the type of gold/material is going to affect the reflectivity and the way I'd shade it, but by default I love doing the more chrome-y type of material on my stuff bc it reads the best as gold, yanno? Unless of course the thing I'm doing calls for more matte/textured types...

Then depending on the colors surrounding the gold item, as well as the colors on the gold item, I can figure out the colors I want to use!

By default though I like using a sort of yellow or yellow-orange with deep browns for the gold itself, light cream/white for the highlights and light blue for the bounce light (which is actually the simulation of an effect where the blue sky's color bounces off the ground and up onto your item!)

I feel like the 'warmth' that you are seeing is the interaction between the reds and yellows of the gold, contrasted and made much warmer with the blue bounce light!

It's hard to see on the next one, but I airbrushed the Highlight color on an Overlay (sometimes an Addition) layer, which helps add a glow!

For the Genshin style mockups I had to do some research because the specific way of shading gold that the MHY artists utilize usually go for less saturated, lighter yellows and browns, and not everything is shaded chrome-like!

You can see my attempts to mimic the flatter shading on these parts of Etienne's outfit:

and then return to my more usual shading methods on these next parts, which were more in line with the shading on the red box in the examples above!

it's a bit long, but I hope you find what you were looking for in here somewhere! ;u;

#gold #walkthrough #artz #japhtalks #japhref

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yuri-is-online · 1 month

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Can I request a kind of song fic? You know the song national anthem? The part where it says "red, white, blue is in the sky. Summers in the air, and baby heavens in your eyes". Can I have that with the first 3 dorms? Love your writing!

The familiar tone of cicadas and flushing greens bring about a stereotypical image of summer, and with it the reality of nearly a full year away from your world. No one has said it out loud yet, but it really does look like Twisted Wonderland is going to be your forever home, so it really is time you start thinking about what you want your future to look like...

And someone really seems to want a staring role in it.

I don't listen to Lana at all so I spent a brief moment wondering why someone was requesting I do a song fic based on the American National Anthem. Anyway I listened to the song a few times and came up with an idea, and then another, and another and I am so sorry this took forever. I hope you enjoy. notes: they/them used for Yuu, all scenarios are meant to take place over summer break, and contain a lot of summer themes. Going to the club and making out with Cater, possessive Leona, and mentioned vehicular manslaughter with Floyd. Other than that pretty tame. For other fic please look to my masterlist here.

Heartslabyul

Riddle

Riddle doesn’t know much about happiness now that he thinks about it.

He assumes he was happy when he played with Trey and Chenya all those years ago, and his mother had always been so insistent that true happiness came from doing well in his school work, and Riddle can say he gets something like happiness from his grades. But then if that is “happiness” then what is this? It doesn’t feel like it deserves quite the same word as what he feels like when he gets a good grade, and he certainly doesn’t get the same feeling of “happiness” from Trey as he does from you. There’s a sting of pain to it that compels him to smile, to stay as close to you as possible when you speak.

“I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

That was where the pain had to have come from, but you’re here with him now and he knows you won’t be going back to that great somewhere you had come from and being next to you still hurts.

“Here.” You tap your metal sparkler ignites his and you smile, wide and free in an attempt to encourage him to enjoy himself. You must have noticed how tense he is, something that doesn’t change as he tries to force his focus on the sparkler. It’s simple, short, putting out a bunch of yellow sparks that he swears it shouldn’t have the strength to. It’s a lot like him, he supposes, he holds it out and up further and watches it spark down, the burnt edges sagging under their own weight as it rages against the night sky and tries to rival the stars. “Are you going to draw anything?”

“Huh?” He’s supposed to be having fun. Are you disappointed in him? No, you seem to have expected this, you're reaching for new sparklers and fumbling looking for something.

“If you twirl the sparkler through the air it’ll leave light behind. It looks like drawing shapes.” You take the risk of nodding towards Ace and Deuce, who he thinks are trying to draw their card suits from how Ace is pointing and Deuce’s face and laughing at the brief flicker of a spade he thinks he sees. “It won’t stay for long but it’s still fun.” A lighter, he recognizes the click before he turns back around to you and sees you fumbling with it. Your hands must be cold, he can’t be happy with that but the strange feeling surges and compels him forward with the gentlest of fires he’s ever conjured.

“You’re the expert, so I’ll trust your advice.” You jump slightly with the sparks and laughter, saying something he doesn’t hear as he takes his sparkler and joins you in drawing little hearts in the air. It has to be a silly thing he’s said for you to laugh so much, but he means it so. If he lets you point out the fun things, he thinks as you toss your second set of spent sparklers into the bucket of water and hold out the next for him to light, he can busy himself with the practical. And maybe together you can both learn to enjoy that thing called happiness you both don’t know much about.

Trey

“Don’t you think you are being unfair?” The words come out even though it has got to be pointless to say it; Trey has to know why else would his smile be so “strained,” why else would he be so determined to keep from making eye contact? And furthermore he has to know you know, that’s why he is standing so close to you despite this new no eye contact rule.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He continues looping icing in detailed patterns across a particularly complicated cake that you have to stop and stare at in wonder, could you ever get that good? Trey must have a great deal of patience to do such technical work, shame he has also decided to use that skill to test yours. You huff and look at your own work, Trey has to know you’ve been looking at him, people can feel the weight of other’s eyes right? Let’s see how he functions without your attention.

Fine, you assume he’ll be fine, he’s always so unbothered by anything you do. Cater has always insisted otherwise, but you swear he’s uncaring too.

“Maybe you should intern at a cake shop.” You do your best to mimic his voice and he chokes on his laugh, it takes a great deal of strength and perhaps patience that rivals Trey’s own to not turn and look. His laugh is so genuine you could mistake it for joy. “That’s what you said.”

“I did, didn't I? Good advice that.” His voice is a bit closer now, you try not to think about how that’s possible, you were already working so close to one another how could he get even closer without touching you? Why do you want him to touch you…

“Why didn’t you just invite me here?” That has got to sound more pathetic than it does biting, it certainly feels that way. “I applied to three separate places, and before I even completed the first line on your little questionnaire I got a call back from them congratulating me on getting hired here.” Trey doesn’t so much as flinch, you see him in the corner of your eye, pretending to adjust his glasses and inspect your work.

“Maybe I wanted some plausible deniability.” He’s so sincere you finally look at him and only sort of regret it when you see his triumphant smile. “But someone got a bit too excited about a friend from NRC finally visiting and chased everyone else off.” You snort.

“I can’t imagine Cater’s never wanted to come here, what with how he talked it up so much.”

“He has mentioned it once or twice.” Trey adjusts a strawberry on a cupcake next to you, out of nerves more than need as he wonders over how to word what he wants to stay next. “But I am glad you decided to come. I was worried you would say no.” You snort and Trey laughs slightly as he watches you squirm in indignance and tries not to focus on your lower lip’s quiver.

“Why on earth would I say no? I’ve been curious about this place since forever.” There’s flour on your apron he wants to smear on your face as an excuse to touch you and ignore the aching annoyance in his chest. I don’t want you to be curious about the shop, everyone is. I want you to be curious about me.

“Well there are more interesting ways to spend your summer than next to an oven.” He says it nonchalantly as his thumb lingers on your nose just a bit longer than it should and your annoyance fades in place of something he doesn’t know but wants to oh so badly.

“Well maybe I just didn’t have anything better to do.” He loves how pretend annoyed you get with him, the way your nose twitches and your eyes dart to look anywhere but him. “And maybe I’ll not have anything better to do this winter or next summer either.” He loves the security he has to indulge in those little things, even if you can’t ever go back to your old home.

“Oh? That’s a real shame.” He finally moves his thumb down your cheek and curls his fingers just under your chin to force you to look at him, to beg you to see a new possibility in his eyes. “I can fix that.”

Cater

Cater inviting you places wasn’t a new thing, but you had really expected it to become an old one once he hit his fourth year and didn’t constantly see you irl and have to pretend he was as invested in your friendship as you were. Was that a cruel thing to think? Sure. Did you hate yourself for it? Absolutely. Was it partially a product of your overwhelming fear of the consequences of opening up to someone with abandonment issues when you were all but guaranteed to permanently abandon him in a way that was so much worse than any of his previous friends?

Well now you were just being way too serious for the type of trip you were currently on. You’ve never seen so many flashing lights outside of a nightmare but Cater certainly looks like he’s having the time of his life on the dance floor with Lilia and Kalim while you sit next to Trey being “boring” in the corner. Not that you shouldn’t be at the club, you've just got a lot on your mind and no place to think it.

“You don’t have to sit here with me if you want to.” You apologize and Trey laughs, surprisingly not at all awkward.

“I’d make a total fool of myself, and I don’t want to end up on magicam being called someone’s dad. Again.” He swirls his drink in his hand and you look down at yours; you’re at a beach if you didn’t remember because of the stray sand in your shoes you would know by the little umbrella in your cup and the cheekily unbuttoned hawaiian shirt that displays the beads around Cater’s neck as he makes sure to fill your entire vision and steal your breath.

“Yuuuuu, c’mon dance with me.” He grabs both your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and pulling out to the floor with the force of his voice as much as his grip. “Can’t let you stay in the corner allll night, I’d be a bad senior!” You think you hear Kalim and Lilia say something to Trey, but Cater’s so close to you, you can’t really hear anything, not even the music or the last call from the bar that sends you and your friends into the street stumbling back towards the hotel Kalim had insisted on booking. “They’re certainly having fun.” Cater hasn’t let go of your hand, thumb circling your palm before finally resting nearby your pulse point. “Sort of a shame to call it quits now.” So he says but you can see the night’s been getting to him.

“If you need a break I don’t think anyone will blame you.” You squeeze his hand and a little of Cay Cay’s smile returns to Cater’s face as he squeezes back. “Do you want me to let you sleep when we get back to the rooms?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Those serious thoughts from before bring you back to reality and you finally see how far behind you’ve lagged from the rest of your group.

“I want to hear your voice.” The dull fear of abandonment snakes through you both and coaxes out Cater’s words he’d probably wouldn’t have ever said if you weren’t staying and he was completely sober. It hitches in your breath as he looks at you, Cater’s real unguarded smile on his face as he lets the boardwalk lights shade him in their perfectly imperfect artificial shine. “I want to hear you say we’re besties out loud again, I want it to be real. Because I’m mad I screwed things up before thinking you’d be gone when you’re so desperately real.” You wave the others on ahead, they shake their heads with knowing looks as you stop and lean into Cater, pressing your foreheads together and staring deep into each other’s eyes searching for something neither wants to admit was always there. “You don’t deserve to be stuck here.”

“You don’t deserve to be stuck in your own head.” He flinches and you reach to touch his cheek, could you kiss him here? Would that be moving too fast? “I’ll be just fine, Cater.”

“But I want to keep you stuck here with me.” He mumbles, and makes the move to kiss for you. Your arms move around his neck and your hands thread through his hair, pulling him close as he never dared to be.

You’ve got all sorts of things you want to say out loud, just for him to hear.

Ace

“It’s so hot.” Whines Grim, his bright smirk completely betraying his intent as you try not to sigh too loudly as you look over the prices at this ice cream stand Ace had convinced you to check out. “I reeeeeally wish we had an ice cream sundae right now, don’t you hench human?”

“You already had half a watermelon earlier,” you mutter “if I get you a whole sundae you might get sick.” He won’t. Grim almost never gets sick. You’ve seen him eat and rank literal dirt. But still you already are going to be carrying back the groceries Ace’s mom asked for and didn’t need something difficult to carry. Thankfully there always seems to be something for cats in the Queendom of Roses because the seller helpfully pipes up that he has a tuna flavored push pop that Grim immediately begs for instead.

You consider getting the same one for Ace, but his childish joy when you pass him a cherry popsicle before opening your own is almost worth the missed joke. “Aww nice, about time you paid me back for everything I do for you.” Almost. You roll your eyes and take your share of the grocery bags, half heartedly fighting for Ace to let you take more of them. He won’t let you, nodding towards Grim in way of an excuse as if the little monster ever lets you take his paw. He’s been doing a lot of things like that while you’ve been staying with his family, it’s actually been sort of nice. There has been a sort of domestic give and take between you two for a long time now that you think about it, probably since the first time he tried to sneak his way into your bed, that has translated into something like a routine. His family has been nice enough not to say anything about it but you know they see it too. “Hey you have work tomorrow right?”

“Yeah.” You try to blink your way back to a more normal state of mind. “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“Nah I’ll just text you if I think of something when I’m on my way to pick you up.” Ace says it so nonchalantly you have to wonder what old Ace would say. The one who made fun of you for not having magic and ditched a girlfriend without saying anything for being boring, or did you never actually know that guy and got lucky enough to meet the ace of hearts instead?

“Ya don’t always gotta walk them.” Grim snorts, unimpressed as always in a way that never fails to make you smile. “Yuu isn’t gonna disappear! Headmage said they were here to stay.” Ace rolls his eyes and you laugh. For some reason he never fails to take bait from Grim.

“That’s not what it’s about, dummy, walking alone is dangerous.”

“Yeah Grim,” you teasingly scratch his little head “besides the only one who isn’t going to be around forever is Ace.”

“Do you really think I won’t be around forever?” Ace actually looks offended, sounds it too and you find yourself indignant.

“You’ve got to have a life eventually.” You shrug. “Deuce and me, school, that doesn’t last forever.” “You can be a part of that life too you know?!” It’s not the closest to a confession you’ve ever gotten from Ace, but it’s certainly the loudest. “Look, I get you’ve got a lot going on in your mind right now, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’ll sit outside that door waiting for you to be ready, and I’ll still be there even if that day never comes. If you’re really in trouble I’ll bust down that door, just because you’re forced to be here doesn’t mean you’re alone.” You wait. You wait for the back track, the joke, the step back into the comfort of the friend zone but it doesn’t come. He looks you in your eyes and keeps walking forward towards home. “You have me, you know?” You’ve always had me.

Deuce

Sometimes you forget how abnormal Deuce is. Probably because it’s a normal sort of abnormality, if any such thing exists, that doesn’t involve magic or monsters and you would have been able to wrap your mind around no matter what time and place you had met in. But that doesn’t mean Deuce is not capable of doing or saying things that surprise you.

“Let’s make a pillow fort.” He says, the familiarity of his joy the only thing that’s keeping you from screaming about his words. “I’ve never made one before, it’ll be fun!”

“Oh I refuse to believe that.” You laugh but refuse to protest, Ace isn’t here to bring down the mood and there’s no way Grim would deny something that he thinks is guaranteed to involve popcorn from the few times you’ve camped out in the Ramshackle Lounge and watched TV together. And to be fair that’s also your plan for tonight, Deuce has a bunch of movies he’s been determined to show you since you agreed to stay over for the Summer.

“Well maybe back when I was a kid with my mom.” He certainly has enough blankets for it, but then what self respecting house doesn’t have a few extras? “I’ve never had a friend stay over before…” If you were in a different mood, if his flushed face wasn’t so cute, you might tease about how you had been here before with Epel, Ortho, and Silver but there’s a tone to the way he says friend. It’s the way he makes sure to lie as close to you as possible in your little fort and watches you as much as the movie that tells you that he feels, even if he doesn’t think, that this is somehow different. “Have you?” He asks it late, as the credits roll on your third or fourth movie and Grim snores. “I thought maybe we could do something normal for once, but I forgot to ask.” You laugh and roll your head onto his shoulder and allow yourself to really think about things.

“Thank you.” It’s the first thought you have, surprising you both. But should it? There’s something warm and comforting about being with Deuce. Natural even. “I can’t say I’m happy but I feel closer to home than I have in a while.” Deuce squeezes your hand and rests his head on top of yours.

“I’m glad. I- know I shouldn’t be but I am sort of happy you’re still here.” He wants to say he’s happy you are staying, but he knows he can’t. It would be too cruel and Deuce knows he can’t really understand the depth of what you’ve lost or make up for it with sleep overs or movie nights. But he does so want to try. “I promise I’ll do my best to make your time here worth it, I meant what I said during Starsending. I want you to be there when I get my badge, I want to make you proud of me too.”

“I’d say I’ll be the loudest in the room but I’ve met your mom.” You sleepily quip and he laughs. “And I’m already proud of you, Deucey.” His half open mouth freezes, his thanks stuck in the softness of your voice as he wills himself to sleep to sear the sound into his brain.

“Sweet dreams, Yuu.” He’ll make this a summer worth having, he swears it.

Savanaclaw

Leona

“You cannot have driven me out here just to nap.” Leona’s head is heavy and warm in your lap in stark contrast to the cool greenery that shades you from the rest of the palace.

“Can’t I?” He opens his eyes to look up at you with a gleam that’s just so smug it makes your heart flutter in what you have to work very hard to convince yourself is annoyance. “Because I could have sworn I just did.”

You aren’t sure why Leona invited you. That one time you had visited the Savannah before had been because Grim demanded, not because he wanted you there. Or at least that’s what you had thought but this time you had received an invitation, and though it had been worded more like a demand (must be a cat thing) it had been surprisingly thoughtful in its accommodations. Grim certainly had been happy enough to accept on your behalf even before Crowley had agreed to let you go.

“I’m just surprised you would want anyone with you to nap at all.” You had been afraid to touch him when you saw him, but you swear he wants you to play with his hair with how he purposely spreads it out, like he’s displaying for you. “I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”

“Maybe I would have been.” His bluntness is only dulled by its predictability, there’s something almost relieving about it if you’re honest. Everyone has been so insistent on saying they are happy you have stayed and just as eager to avoid talking about the specifics that worry you. Not Leona, he keeps his green eyes focused on you, striking right at the heart of things. “But you aren’t half as annoying as everyone else, even if you could stand to fight for yourself a bit more. Why do you think I invited you here anyway?”

“...so your family wouldn’t bother you about your duties?” He laughs, loud and free and so forceful he shakes your entire body with its pride.

“Well you’re half right.” He reaches up and pulls you down, rolling to the side so you’re lying in the bit of ground he’s warmed and caged in the safety of his arms with nowhere to run from the obvious truth. “You’re here because I want you to be.” The way he says it, the touch of his forehead against yours and the lull of his heartbeat, it’s like he’s daring you to think of your entire existence in Twisted Wonderland in terms of him and him alone. And he knows it, he has to he’s too smart to word his sayings in a way that would misconstrue his meaning. “What’s that shit you herbivores are always yammering on about? ‘Finding your family?’ Well I found you so you’re going to stay right?”

“Are you offering me citizenship, your majesty?” Because you have to make this a bit of a joke otherwise you’ll let him in on just how much power over you he really has.

“I’m offering you a home.” He’s surprisingly serious. “It’s dark, a bit shit, but you already like those sorts of places if your dorm is anything to go by. And you’re so annoyingly sunny I’m sure it’ll perk right up when you settle yourself in.” Just like he does as you move to hide your face in his chest, your breaths matching in the safe lull of slumber under the jungle’s starry sky.

Ruggie

“Man, I love Summer! People are just so much freer with their cash, y’know shishishishi.” Ruggie cackles as he settles himself into a booth, still somehow full of energy despite the day you’ve both had while you slump across from him. “Peak tourism season means loads of opportunities for work!”

“I know Leona said this place was popular but I guess I didn’t realize just how much.” Ruggie had been so proud to show you this barbeque place after your first night working at the resort with him, and you had been more than happy to know it on nights like this when you had worked overtime meeting some really pushy customers' needs for what felt like way too little money. Even though this gig paid pretty well some people just weren’t worth shit, something Ruggie knows all too well.

“Yeah, nothing on Sage’s Island ever gets this busy. You holding up ok?” Ruggie’s always like this while he’s on the job, you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean too much by it, that he’s just checking up on you from a place of mutual understanding but it still feels good. Good enough that the smile you manage is genuine.

“Surprisingly, yeah.” You could really do with some more sleep than you are going to get when you return to Grim tonight, but then you always could. “What about you? You always look twice as busy as me and that’s saying something.”

“Aww, you worried about little old me? Kiiinda weird Yuu! I’m the senior here, I'm more used to this.” He’s the same smug Ruggie, brimming with enough confidence and infectious determination that perks you up just a bit. Or maybe it’s the fact your food’s come and you are determined to snatch up the utensils and cook before Ruggie can and use it as an excuse to keep all the best cuts for himself. He doesn’t jump to fight you tonight though, instead he looks contemplative. “Hey, are you sure you’re ok with how you spent your Summer?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” The meat sizzles on the grill, dampening the seriousness of the conversation with its pops, and Ruggie tries to focus on it but it’s clear he has been thinking about this for a while.

“Well, my invitation was kinda late. I was really surprised you didn’t want to spend your Summer hanging out with your friends.” You don’t say anything immediately, wondering how best to respond to someone who, admittedly, has never really admitted to being your friend despite you both regularly flirting with that and a much deeper concept.

“I mean I do.” It’s best to be honest with him, he won’t accept anything else even if it hurts to see you refuse to look at him as you flip the meat to cook its other side and continue thinking out loud. “But I’m going to be stuck here forever, I want to get a head start on some security. I can’t live in Ramshackle forever. And besides…” It’s best to be honest with him, you reassure yourself as you take a deep breath and give him the cut you know he’ll like best and stare deep into his eyes. “I was happy to hear from you and get a chance to see you again sooner.” His ears twitch and his eyes widen, words fumble out of his mouth without any real meaning as you both silently agree to table the conversation and eat your meal. The best meals aren’t rushed, and the best connections allow themselves the time they need to grow. You know you’ll both be ok, you promise yourself you will make sure of it.

Jack

“Jack, what is this thing again?” You ask slightly exasperated, not with the product or with him, just yourself for still not remembering the types of snack foods available in a basic convenience store after a whole school year in this world. For once, Jack doesn’t complain or pretend he doesn’t want to help, just dutifully walks over and looks at the package before putting it back on the shelf.

“It’s a type of chip, you liked this flavor better.” He adds it to his basket and you sigh, mutter an apology Jack doesn’t acknowledge verbally, instead touching your thigh gently with his tail. “Is there anything else you want to bring back to Sage’s Island with you? If you don’t remember until you get back…” I won’t send it to you. That’s what he wants to say, but he cuts himself off before he can. He can see your mind auto filling it in as you think, and he curses himself silently. What a fool he’d been, “I won’t need to do that I’ll just know” he hadn’t counted on lying to himself about how he felt. His mother had, she’d even laughed about it when he had tried to stumble around asking to let you visit.

“A soulmate is something you work for, Jack. It’s not given to you, you have to earn it.”

Jack likes to think he works hard. His grades are good, he’s in great shape, his unique magic is truly a gift and he isn’t taking it for granted but you. You’ve got two separate drinks held up to the light, neither of them are exclusive to the Shaftlands. You could get them at Sam’s any time but you are squinting as if you have truly never seen them before and he guesses that’s because it’s true. Why is it so hard to just speak to you? Is it because you're human?

“If you want something limited, those are over here.” He takes what you were looking at anyway. “My sister really likes this one.” I think you will too, it’s a lot like what you get from the vending machines. You nod and add it to the basket, turning towards the canned goods and insisting on getting some “fancy” tuna for Grim with a smile that stirs his soul and reassures him of what Jack knows is true even if he can’t speak about it.

“You think he’d notice even if it was different?” You are shaking your head as you look at the can, making jokes but not bothering to pretend you don’t care. It’s maddening, how bright you shine for those you care about and how little he can do to give that shine back to you.

“You can’t tell him how much it costs, otherwise he will insist it is.” That works, you laugh and his tail goes crazy, unable to hide how important your laughter is to him. I love you. That’s what he wants to say. “You should come back next summer.” But he doesn’t, he rubs his neck and looks at the shelves and thinks it so loud he swears his heart is halfway out of his chest. There’s a soft look in your eyes that he wants to think says you hear it, but he knows that he can’t take it as an excuse. Next summer I’ll say it. I’ll say it every day that you’re here, I promise. Your smile is everything he needs.

“I look forward to it.”

Octavinelle

Azul

There’s a picture on your phone you don’t think you were meant to see, but magicam lets you delete photos and Azul hasn’t done that yet. It’s been an hour, the little opened notification sits there taunting you both but still he doesn’t do anything. Not send a follow up message or delete the photo or anything and FINALLY you’ve had enough so you do something beyond reckless.

You call him. And he answers.

“Prefect! Always a pleasure to hear from you.” Azul sounds so infuriatingly put together you want to die. You bet he’s sat in some sort of fancy office, leaning back with a smug look on his face while you hug a pillow close to your chest, still in your pajamas seething with nerves over his little mistake. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Did you mean to send me a picture of your menu for orientation?” You cringe at how upset you sound, because you really aren’t exactly. It’s silly to hope Azul would talk to you over the summer at all, and if he did of course it would be about business. That’s what talking with Azul is always about. “Oh and hello I guess.” But it still pays to be polite if for no other reason than the melodic laughter that you get to hear at what you're sure Azul sees as a cute mistake.

“I would have called you if I hadn’t.” He sounds like he is reassuring a child, but still pauses to keep you off your game before he continues. “I was expecting you to give your opinions on it, you have to have some don’t you?”

“Not for free.” You snort and he laughs again, slightly more awkwardly this time and you wish you could say that you didn’t feel bad, that you were as cold and calculated as the sea but neither of you are really. It isn’t wrong to want something is it? Azul is pro-greed, so surely he would understand you teasing him a bit to keep him in your life for just a bit longer. “Do you need my opinion for something?”

“Just to hear it.” Azul has a way of being so damnably dismissive about things it drives you insane. Just once you want to hear him say- “Besides, it’s been a while since we talked and I thought it would be a good ice breaker.” You choke on your own thoughts and almost break your jaw trying to keep him from hearing. “You’ll be there I trust?”

“Orientation?” Your throat hurts and it shows in your voice, that stupid octopus has got to be so smug right now it would be so insufferable to look at. You definitely aren’t thinking about it and it definitely isn’t making your struggle to breathe worse. “Or the Lounge? Because it’s not like I’ll have anything to do really if you want help or something… I am sort of curious about those house themed drinks, that's a stupid good idea for an orientation by the way.”

“I knew you’d get it!” Azul sounds so excited it’s almost pure. “You’ll have to come by beforehand so I can show you how to make them, it took so much time to get the correct flavor pallet for the Savanaclaw and Ignihyde ones you have no idea-”

And just like that he has you, he has you! You’re listening and talking to him through all of his explanations, probably sitting somewhere under a tree well put together with Grim on your lap and… smiling he hopes? While he is curled into a small ball in his room trying to pretend he knew this would work out exactly like he wanted the whole time.

You’ll be there. When the bell strikes and the mirror opens its gaze on NRC once again he won’t have to be nostalgic for flames and mayhem because you will be there. And this time he swears he’ll catch you for good.

Jade

It’s the last day of school and yet you have nothing to pack and nothing to do. The usual excitement that accompanies the final freedom of summer is sort of lost in that void of being unable to go home, and as ashamed as you are to admit it you think you’ll go crazy if you don’t have anywhere to go next summer. You already felt so overwhelmingly lonely when you first got the news, and you have heard these things get better but it doesn’t feel like it will. Even the knock at your door fills you with dread, you don’t want to ruin Ace and Deuce’s excitement with your bad mood. But that’s not what you see when you open your door.

“Hello prefect.” Jade Leech is tall, so tall he fills up the frame with his stiff figure that you always have noticed for how proper it is but today he seems even more rigid than usual. Guarded is the word you would use if you could ever picture him being afraid of you. “May I come in?” You nod and shut the door behind you both, your idle curiosity drowning out the danger signs as neither of you move or speak. Jade’s hands stay folded in front of him, yours stay at your sides as you wait. Wait wait wait for what you don’t know, hadn’t the twins told you they visited their parents over this break? His mother sounded lovely, why would he want to keep her waiting? “I was wondering…” He closes his eyes and brings his hand up to his chin as if he is deep in thought but it reads more like it is taking a lot out of him to say what he wants to “Would you be interested in climbing Mount Moln with me sometime?” Your breath catches in your throat, the memories of your trip to Harveston still somewhat fresh and inviting in their domesticity. You hadn’t thought he would remember that little conversation you’d had, but he does. His wide smile when he opens his eyes to see your fluster screams it’s haunted his dreams as much as it has yours. “I do seem to recall you expressed a desire to climb it, and since you will be staying with us for the foreseeable future I thought I would take my chance on the proposal.” Did he have to word it like that? It’s doing things to your heart.

“I did say that, didn't I?” You try to center yourself by closing your eyes, it’s always a bad thing to appear desperate around him but your mind insists on remembering. The feel of the snow, the smell of the woods and the bonfires, and of Jade whether he would believe you or not. Of the excitement in his voice when he named all the plants he knew, of the funny look on his face when his sled misbehaved, so passive as if it was happening to someone else and not him. And of the shiver of excitement at his ideas on how to sabotage the other team, whispered quietly in your ear so as not to alert Epel in an effort to convince you of his position. Or maybe now that you look at him he just wanted the excuse to be close. “Yes. Yes. I would like that very much.” Jade’s smile stretches to something as dangerous as it is thrilling as he takes his long desired excuse and closes the gap. “I will see you next week then. Make sure to pack your things.” You splutter and he takes a deep breath to savor the look as he traces your cheek and takes your weak protests in stride. He never did say you would be going to Mount Moln this summer, you need to train after all. Jade Leech intends to take his time with you, assuming you’ll let him of course.

Floyd

“Hehe Floyd and shrimpy, drivin to the beeeeach. What’ll they do?”

“Stay in their lane and watch the road.” Crewel has to have added a “fuck” in there that he didn’t voice if his death grip on the car’s grab handle is anything to go by, and if you are honest you wish he had, it would make this whole experience much more bearable. You have opted to hold Grim instead, prayer was also an option but that wouldn’t keep Grim from trying to harass Floyd. He’s laughing now, saying something to Professor Crewel you can’t quite place, maybe adding a new verse to his little song that admittedly sounds kind of catchy. Floyd has a very nice voice you swear he only ever uses to make fun of people, not that you could see him ever doing anything with it since that would take too much repetitive work. “Pull off the exit here and make sure to park WITHIN the lines this time.” Crewel snaps and you find yourself finally at a merciful stop, and unable to free yourself and Grim from your seatbelts fast enough under the guise of “getting your things” from the trunk.

You aren’t fast enough to avoid Floyd. He’s there as soon as you open the trunk, tell tale smirk on his face.

“Well shrimpy? I’m waitin’” He’s giggling, the only thing that’s keeping him from kicking his feet is their need to be on solid ground to keep him upright.

“You suck.” You say completely deadpan without a hint of irony. “Congratulations I didn’t know anybody could do it that bad. Why did you want to try learning to drive again? They don’t have cars under the sea do they?” Floyd seems amused by your attempt to steam past your little insults, choosing to ignore them for now and shrug as he takes the umbrellas out of the car and closes it.

“It seemed fun. Beakerfish is always goin on about ‘em and Pops says they get stupid expensive. Why’s that huh? You humans sure do like buying shit just to break it.” He doesn’t move immediately, like he’s waiting for something and determined to block your way until he gets it. So you take a deep breath and lie to yourself that it’s just this one answer.

“Floyd, most people don’t wreck their cars on purpose.” It should be the most obvious thing in the world, but still he doesn’t move. His smile gets wider and his eyes blaze with determined focus, for some reason he gets closer to you, one hand resting above you on the car to loosely cage you against it. He has to know what he’s doing here too, Floyd’s a lot but he’s not stupid. “Aww really, shrimpy? There’s so many movies and games ‘bout it you’d think that’s the whole point of havin’ em.” He giggles exactly like he does before moving in with a squeeze, bending to whisper in your ear as if Crewel isn’t just on the other side of the vehicle still holding that damn crop and just looking for an excuse to strike. “That’s not all they do in the movies though, huh Yuu? Maybe I wanna take you someplace nice,quiet, and all alone for once~” And just like he’s gone, back to bothering your professor who you know is chastising himself for agreeing to chaperone this trip while you try desperately to catch your breath.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #i feel like if you too trey to the club he'd be doing those white dad dances #just breaking it down to whatever the twst equivalent of pour some sugar on me is and still somehow doing numbers because what is a club fo #if not remembering you have daddy issues #... also idk i can see floyd being into the burnout games or a demo derby #he likes breaking shit he'd probably think that;s fun

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sanctus-ingenium · 6 months

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Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.

hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai

because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out

sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.

the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:

the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.

I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...

first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.

Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.

Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.

The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.

I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.

And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think

what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.

Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.

finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.

#fr you will never catch me trying to mystify my process i will explain literally everything #brushes

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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

Text

Chapter 13- There's No Place Like Home

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

Word Count: 13.2K (reasonable of me tbh)

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

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

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

November 27th, 1997.

6 months.

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

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

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

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

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

And he was a fucking nervous wreck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even just a-”

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

Tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I’m the ridiculous one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Dad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

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

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

It was really fucking happening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Osita. Just trust me.”

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

“No, you dork.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Husband.

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

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

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

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

Now that, that one really did something to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Last one, I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pendejo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Javi, it’ll take like 2 seconds, I-”

“Ostia. Just go inside, okay?”

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

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

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

“Wait, wha- Wait Mom?! What are you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“AUNTIE BEAR!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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