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wheresarizona · 9 months

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Learning to Live Part 24

summary: It’s just a regular Friday, until someone from Javier’s past comes to your work to reveal secrets he’s kept from you—it’s a lot to hear about the terrible things your boyfriend allegedly did in Colombia.

rating: E (18+! Age gap (about ten years), Soft Javier Peña, Switch Javier Peña (He goes from very subby to very dommy), explicit smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f and m receiving), deepthroating, a dash of mutual masturbation, light bondage (the tie is used again but on Javier), vaginal fingering, breeding kink, teasing, safe word usage, body worship (f and m receiving), dirty talk, praise kink (there’s a good boy), spit mention, begging, (1) spank, anal mention, angst with a happy ending, arguing, miscommunication, confessions, PTSD, nightmare (nothing graphic), emotional hurt/comfort, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Javier breaking down, some medical talk (nothing graphic), talks of the future, Javier quoting Gomez Addams)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (reader is a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 19.1k (Buckle up, everyone)

a/n: Thank you so much for all of the love and support for this story, it means the world to me! I am very proud of myself for getting this done in less than two weeks. I might take a tiny break before the next chapter just so I don’t burn myself out. Big thanks to @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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Friday, November 6th, 11:23 AM

Laredo’s hospital wasn’t even half the size of the one you worked at as a nurse in Dallas, which meant not all of the specialties they had doctors for had separate wings. This translated to your post-operation department getting the majority of the patients from the various surgeries done. Someone had a double-bypass performed on their heart? You were the one taking care of them. Hip replacement? They’d be under your supervision. An appendectomy? Another of yours. Basically, as long as they weren’t a child or having a child, they were coming to your unit to recuperate.

Compared to your last job as an emergency room nurse, this one was a breeze. The people you cared for were usually so hopped up on pain medication they either slept, watched television, or zoned out. The hospital wasn’t too busy, so you got to work regular hours with weekends off, compared to the multiple twelve-hour shifts you worked before, plus overtime. As an added bonus, the nurse who shared the shift with you had become your best friend.

Honestly, you were thrilled you moved to this small border town.

Well, except for all of the gossip.

After the first time Javier had shown up at your work to take you to lunch, you’d been the talk of the hospital as the woman he was dating, and you didn’t care. Still, it gave you unwanted flashbacks to the messy end of your last relationship years ago when you caught your ex, a cardiothoracic surgeon, banging another nurse in his office and having to deal with everyone whispering about it, learning they all knew it’d been going on for months—you’d sworn off dating anyone in your workplace after that, much to your parents chagrin.

At least here, it was people mostly shocked that your future husband was actually dating someone, making them curious about why you were so special.

It’d been months now since your relationship began, and the fascination had dulled down a little. Unfortunately, though, Javier would always be a hot topic of discussion amongst the townspeople, whether it be about him leaving Lorraine at the altar, helping take down Pablo Escobar, eliminating the Cali Cartel, dating you, or his work with the Sheriff’s office—he was basically a local celebrity, and he hated it, which was completely understandable.

It was almost lunchtime, and a new patient had been brought to your wing as he recovered from a minor heart surgery. Reading his chart, he was seventy-two and had a history of cardiovascular issues, seeing one other major surgery had been performed a couple years prior. He was still sleeping while you set him up in his room, his wife having gone to the cafeteria for food.

The sound of footsteps alerted you someone had entered the open door.

“Knock, knock,” Robyn, your co-worker and best friend, greeted in her Texan accent. You’d already gotten your patient connected to his IV that was currently pumping saline through the line and were now clipping the heart monitor onto his finger, the steady beeping of his heartbeat suddenly filling the air.

“What’s up?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.

The other woman’s long, chestnut brown hair was up in a high ponytail, her lips painted in wine-red lipstick, and she looked nervous, which was odd.

“Are you almost done in here? You’ve got a visitor…”

That had your eyebrows furrowing; not expecting to see anyone today.

“That isn’t Javi…?” you clarified.

He was the only one who came to see you at lunch.

“No...” She shook her head. “This man ain’t from around here… He said his name was Bill?”

That confused you even more; no one was coming to mind by that name.

“Did he give you a last name?”

“I didn’t ask.” She winced.

You snorted, shaking your head while turning your attention back to your patient as you double-checked your work to ensure everything was set up correctly. “I thought you learned your lesson about not asking men for their last names.”

The busty brunette walked closer to stand at your side as she whispered, “First of all, Seb is hotter than hell, and I only cared about knowin’ the name he wanted me screamin’.” Sebastián was Javi’s cousin whom Robyn took home the previous Friday from the bar, having no idea he was a Peña until he’d come by your work Tuesday to take her to lunch, and you had way too much fun revealing his identity. “Second,” she continued, “I usually don’t bother gettin’ last names ‘cause they’re just one-night stands.” She shrugged.

“He was at your place for literal days before you found out, which is crazy.”

“With the things he was doin’ to me, it really wasn’t important,” she replied with a smirk.

“Mhmm, it didn’t matter, but now that you know, it fills you with insane amounts of joy that you found yourself a Peña.”

She playfully slapped your arm. “Shut up. He is pretty great and stayin’ at mine for the weekend.” Her eyebrows wagged.

“He’s been staying at yours for the last week…”

“And how long has Javi been stayin’ at yours? That man came over on your third date and never left.”

“Touché. Aren’t Peña boys the best?”

“They really are.” Her voice went quiet, “Anyways, there’s somethin’ off about the man out there. He was askin’ if I knew where you were from and stuff about your family. Just odd things to ask a stranger, you know? So, I want you to talk to him in the hallway in case I need to call security and Javi, okay?”

Her concern had your hackles rising, wondering who this person could be.

“Yeah, of course.”

After finishing what you were doing, the patient settled in and was being monitored, Robyn told you she would do her rounds to check up on her own patients and listen for any signs of trouble from you.

Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself for whatever was about to happen, walking out of the room toward the end of the hall where the nurse’s station was. You noticed the man you’d never seen before leaning against the tall counter, looking your way with a smile.

The top of his head was bald, his face featuring a long, raggedy salt and pepper beard, dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal grey button-up under a dark green denim jacket.

“Hi,” you said as you approached, offering him your name, “—I heard you wanted to see me. How can I help you?”

He straightened, standing to his full height. “It’s more of how I can help you,” he replied, holding out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Bill Stechner, an old friend of Javier Peña’s.”

“Okay…?” This guy was too old to have gone to college with him, and it was weird he used Javi’s full name if he was supposedly a ‘friend.’ Robyn was right. There was definitely something off about him, and add in you’ve never heard of him before; this all seemed a bit fishy. Quickly, you shook his hand. “What exactly are you helping me with…?” you asked.

The smile on his face was almost predatory, and you didn’t like it one bit, unconsciously wiping your hand on your blue scrub pants.

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” He waved away your question. “Javier and I used to work together, and since I’m in town on business, I was dying to meet the woman who managed to tie him down.”

So, he tracked you down? Found out where you worked and came here? That was a little much to go through in order to meet a former co-worker’s new significant other… This guy had warning bells going off in your head because something wasn’t right.

“Okay…?” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. “You met me.”

“That I have, and I’m a little surprised.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyebrow rose.

“Well, based on the many, many women he had relations with in South America, I just wouldn’t expect you to be his type...”

Your eyes narrowed. Who the fuck was this guy? He really hunted you down to imply you weren’t as pretty as the other women Javi’s been with—what an asshole.

“Did you come here just to insult me? Because if that’s the case, you can fuck right off.”

“No, it’s great he ‘fell,’” he said the word sarcastically, making your jaw clench, “for you, and it’s wonderful you’re looking past all of the prostitutes he used for sex and information.”

It was weird this man felt the need to mention that, knowing a lot of your boyfriend’s informants had been sex workers he fucked, and it didn’t bother you—it had been a coping mechanism for the shit he was dealing with while down there, and he treated them well.

“Why are you bringing that up? Why are you even talking to me alone? You’re really not giving me a great first impression here, pal.”

He pressed a hand over his heart in faux concern. “I’m just looking out for your best interests and want to make sure you actually know the man you’re living with.”

“Right, my best interests…” you replied, sounding doubtful and doing your best not to roll your eyes. “So, what is my boyfriend apparently hiding from me that you felt it necessary to bother me at work?”

There was a tiny nervous fluttering in your belly over what this could be about, hoping it wasn’t anything serious, but having a feeling it was going to be about the one topic Javi avoided talking about:

Colombia.

“Javier and I go way back—I’ve known him for years, and we worked kind of closely while he was down in South America.” Your suspicion was correct, and you wouldn’t lie, you were curious about what he had to say. “I was wondering, did he tell you why he wasn’t there to catch Pablo Escobar?”

All you knew was Javi fucked up badly and got sent home before they got the drug lord.

“Please, enlighten me.”

“I get why he’d hide it from you in shame. I think if he ‘loved’ you, he would’ve told you all about what he’d done in Colombia and the crimes he committed working with Los Pepes.”

That was a low blow, and what crimes?

“Los Pepes?”

“Los Perseguidos por Pablo Escobar—The Persecuted by Pablo Escobar or Los Pepes were a paramilitary vigilante group created by opposing cartel members trying to kill Escobar, oh, five or six years ago. That boyfriend you share a bed with fed them classified information like locations of Escobar’s men and their family members, and boy, were they notorious for killing innocent civilians indiscriminately. They’d go after Pablo’s sicarios and kill anyone who had a connection to him or just happened to be there—wrong place, wrong time.” He shrugged the fucker. “Javier’s intel ended up starting a war between the Medellín cartel and Los Pepes, both sides murdering many innocent men, women, and children, and that’s why he was sent home before they caught Escobar. Did you ever hear about the bombing down there at a shopping center the week before school was about to start?”

It took you a second to answer as you processed what he told you. “Vaguely,” you answered.

“Killed a bunch of kids and their families while they were getting school supplies and clothes—we know it was Escobar who planted it, and it wouldn’t have happened if things hadn’t gotten so out of hand with the leaked information. If you don’t believe me,” he continued, “I brought this interview by one of the leaders of Los Pepes so you can read about it yourself.” That’s when you saw him holding a rolled-up newspaper in one of his hands, the header reading The Miami Herald. “It talks about Javier’s role in it all and how big it was—if he hadn’t given the intel, a lot of lives would’ve been saved.”

It was a lot to take in, hearing about what Javi had supposedly done, and it was harder to imagine him doing such things because he was a caring, kind, honorable, and good man—there was no way in your mind he would’ve condoned so many innocents dying, and with how odd this whole visit was, you were taking what Bill was saying with a grain of salt. There were probably some truths in there, but definitely not all because it made zero sense with the fact your boyfriend was twenty minutes away at his office, and not locked up in a prison cell.

Fuck ‘looking out for your best interest,’ this man was trying to turn you against Javi by telling you these terrible things, making it clear he absolutely was not a friend of his—he did not come here with good intentions; it was crazy he even came here at all. What you were assuming with all of the effort he put into this was there was bad blood between the two men, and this was Bill’s way of getting back at him—what pissed him off so much he was keeping tabs on your boyfriend? If he found you and your place of employment, it looked like he was keeping tabs on you, too, which was a little scary. He said he worked with Javi, which made you think he was a part of an alphabet agency, maybe DEA? CIA? FBI? Whichever it was, he had the resources to be a fucking creep, and you hated what he was trying to do to your boyfriend, so you’d give him a taste of his own medicine and fuck with him a little.

“No,” you gasped in pretend shock, covering your mouth with your hands. “My Javi, really did these horrible things you’ve told me about?”

Stechner tried to make his face look somber, but his gaze told you he was happy by your reaction.

“Unfortunately, he did,” he replied, nodding his head.

“He really did these horrible things that would’ve definitely landed him in prison had he actually done them?”

Again, you knew there had to be some truth since he did get sent home.

Bill frowned. “He got lucky...”

Uncovering your mouth, you said, “Let me get this straight. Due to the classified intelligence Javi gave to this vigilante group, he started a war, and a lot of innocent people were murdered, but he ‘got lucky’ and avoided any and all jail time? Not only that, he was given a promotion to take down the Cali cartel… Something isn’t adding up here, Bob—”

“It’s Bill.”

“You lost name privileges when you basically called me ugly, Dick. Now, as I was saying, something isn’t adding up here, Brad, and it’s the bullshit you’re trying to feed me since Javi already told me everything.” That was a lie, but this asshole didn’t need to know. “Was this how you were going to ‘help me’—” You made air quotes with your fingers. “Tell me some fucked up shit you thought I didn’t already know, and hope I’d what, break up with him? Were you just hoping to ruin his happiness? He hasn’t worked for the DEA in almost two years. Why are you so obsessed with him? Wait—” A look came over your face like you had a realization. “—are you in love with him?” you loudly whispered. “Are you trying to get me out of the picture so you can take him for yourself?”

He looked disgusted. “What? No. That’s ridiculous.”

“And you keeping up to date on Javi’s personal life and trying to sabotage his relationship, isn’t ridiculous? Ballsack, this is fucking insane!” You threw up your hands. “You’ve got a screw or two loose in your head. So—” You jabbed him in the chest with your finger as you glared. “Listen here, you greasy-haired fuck. I don’t know who the fuck you are or who you think you are, but you’re not going to scare me away with shit I’m all too aware of from his past. Now get the fuck out of here before I make you, and pray I don’t tell Javi about this ‘cause I don’t think he’d appreciate whatever this fucking game is you’re playing.”

The plan was to call your boyfriend immediately to tell him everything.

Stechner scoffed, your arm falling as he set the newspaper onto the counter so he could slowly clap his hands.

“Aren’t you a little firecracker,” he said, his arms crossing in front of him. “I see why Javier likes you. You’re smart, too—maybe too smart for your own good.”

“That doesn’t sound threatening at all…” Your eyes rolled.

“No, no, it’s not. You’re spunky and smart. Definitely too good for him. Does he know all of your secrets, too? Like the one you’ve kept from your family of how you failed the MCAT—” That was the Medical College Admissions Test. “—and couldn’t get into medical school, so you went into nursing instead? I’m sure your parents loved that.” You ground your teeth. “Do you hate not continuing the family legacy?”

The answer was no because you didn’t give a single fuck about it and never had an interest in becoming a doctor—failing the test made you happy. It felt like a sign you were meant to do what you wanted and not what was expected of you.

Glaring, you replied, “It’s honestly none of your fucking business. I’ve got work to do as a nurse, so if you’ll see your way out.” You started walking around the desk.

“You may not have continued the legacy, but you’re still reaping the benefits of it. Just remember Javier likes using women—sex, information, money. You have something he wants, and once he’s gotten it, he’ll discard you just like the rest of them. I’ve known him for a long time, and he’s not a relationship kind of guy.”

Anger was bubbling in your belly at the audacity of this fucker.

There wasn’t a chance to respond when an alarm sounded from the computer on the desk monitoring patient vitals, seeing the one just brought in had gone into cardiac arrest.

“Fuck,” you whispered, picking up the desk phone and quickly hitting the numbers to page the on-call doctor about the emergency before turning to get the crash cart against the wall behind you, rolling it down the hallway as quickly as possible.

Robyn came out of a room.

“We’ve got a Code Blue!” you told her as you passed. “Man the desk and get rid of that guy!”

“On it!” She bolted in the opposite direction.

This job was something you’d been doing for so long that you expected the unexpected and were intimately aware things could change in a split second. A calmness came over you in situations like this, focusing on remembering your training and doing everything in your power to save the person’s life.

Time became a tricky thing because it felt like it stopped, yet it was also speeding by—you were doing chest compressions with gloved hands while trying to calm the frantic wife when the doctor finally arrived with another nurse, who escorted the crying woman out into the hall.

Five minutes had passed since the alarm sounded, and it only felt like one.

Assisting the doctor, you handed him items from the cart and did everything he said—the patient’s heart was beating, but he wasn’t completely stable.

A glance at your watch told you twenty more minutes were gone that you hadn’t felt slip by.

The call was made that a minor emergency procedure needed to be done with no time to get to an operating room. The doctor relied on local anesthesia while you and the other nurse helped.

When it was finished, forty-five minutes had disappeared in the blink of an eye, and the patient was finally on the mend.

The doctor spoke to the wife in the hallway while you and your colleague cleaned the room, letting her in once you were done and wheeling the crash cart to the storage room to restock it—the cart itself was small enough that it was easy to maneuver down the hallways and into the tiny rooms, colored fire engine red with many different sized drawers full of supplies you’d need in an emergency.

There was a sheen of sweat on your forehead, the adrenaline making your heart pound, and you couldn’t wait to drink some water when you returned to the desk, knowing your water bottle was there waiting for you.

Your back was to the door while you stuffed gauze into a drawer, hearing it open and close and someone stepping inside.

“So, my patient is okay,” you told Robyn. “A little impromptu surgery had to happen, and let me just say, I do not miss emergency medicine. I think I’ve been spoiled here with how chill things usually are.” Moving to a locked cabinet close by, you pressed a code on the keypad to resupply some medications in another cart drawer. “Today has been insane, though,” you said. Pausing, you remembered. “Oh god, I need to call Javi!”

“I’m here,” he said, making you squeak in surprise as you spun around to find your boyfriend standing just inside the room.

“Jesus, Javi, I thought you were Ro…” Your sentence trailed off as you took in his red-rimmed eyes and disheveled hair, his tie loosened around his neck with a clear look of upset on his face. “What happened, baby?” you asked. Quickly, you were closing the distance, cupping his jaw when you were within reach. “What’s going on, Javi? Is your dad okay?”

It had you thinking the worst, with him appearing unexpectedly looking like this.

“My dad’s fine.” His lower lip was trembling. “I’m scared,” he whispered.

“About what?” You pushed your fingers into his hair. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

“Stechner talked to you.” His eyes were tearing up. “He told you about Los Pepes before I had a chance to tell you the truth, and he gave you a copy of the interview. You must hate me now.”

Your brows dipped together. “Babe, before I say anything else, you need to know I don’t hate you. Not even a little bit—I love you a lot.”

A tear rolled down his cheek, his arms pulling you into him, crushing you against him in a hug, feeling his body shaking as he sobbed. “Oh, baby,” you soothed, rubbing your hands over the back of his grey suit jacket, hugging him back. “That creepy motherfucker came here trying to scare me, but I clocked his bullshit the moment he said I wasn’t your type. I didn’t really take much of what he said to heart because it was obvious he was trying to make you look bad, but I would like to go over things with you to know what was true. Everything’s okay, Javi, baby. I still love you—I’ll always love you.”

His head came up with wet cheeks and reddened eyes. “The interview in the newspaper is bullshit,” he said. “Stechner’s with the CIA, and they were supplying Los Pepes with weapons and made her a deal to keep them out of it if she put everything on me. I gave them locations to a handful of Escobar’s men and fucking told them no civilians were to be harmed—I hated that shit.”

It was a relief to hear the truth.

Nodding your head, you replied, “This is why I called him out on his obvious lies. I knew you didn’t do all the stuff he said you did, and if you had, your ass would be in jail, and they definitely wouldn’t have made you the head bitch in charge to take down Cali.”

He huffed out an amused breath. “Fuck,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I was so fucking scared I’d lost you.”

“Absolutely not.” Your palms skimmed up his front to rest on his shoulders. “You definitely still have me.”

Looking you in the eyes, he replied, “I’m gonna tell you everything today. Everything. I need you to know so this doesn’t happen to me again.”

He held your hips.

“Only if that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Okay.” You smiled at him, using your thumbs to wipe away the wetness on his face. “It’s exciting that I get to leave work early for our first family emergency.”

He was frowning. “You don’t have to leave early… I can wait for you at home…”

“And spend hours stressing yourself out? Nope, not happening. The night nurse still owes me for covering those three days for her—she’ll come in if I ask. So, give me a little bit to finish here, and I’ll meet you at home. Can you drive, or do you want to wait for me?” Your fingers worked to fix his hair.

“I can drive.”

“Then go to the apartment, take off these clothes—” You pulled on his jacket sleeves. “—get comfy on the couch and hang out until I get there. Can you do that, babe?”

Softly smiling, his eyes crinkling at the edges, he answered, “Yes, mi amor (my love).”

“Good. Now hurry and kiss me before Robyn comes in here to see if we’re fucking,” you said, puckering your lips.

He chuckled, his big hands gently cradling your face, like he was afraid you’d break, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. He melted into you, his body relaxing, his shoulders sagging—all of the tension in his body releasing, the relief evident that you were kissing him, that you still loved him, that he didn’t lose you. With your mouths fused, you imbued upon him your love, telling him with every caress of your lips that you were there, that everything was okay, that no one could ever get between you two.

Things began to get more fervent, Javi losing himself in desperation when he deepened the kiss—his arms wrapped around you, turning you both so he could press your back into the hardened surface of the door, pushing his slack-covered thigh between your legs while his tongue plundered your mouth.

This was something he needed—the intimacy, the closeness; he found comfort in your words, your touch, your body; knowing what you were doing soothed him and gave him peace.

You had to wonder how long he’d been sick with worry.

Had Stechner gone to his office right after seeing you?

You suspected he had and probably knew Javi was in a meeting until noon, the creepy fucker.

Threading your fingers in his hair, Javi was kissing you passionately, his thigh pressing into your clothed pussy and gently moving it side to side—the friction against your clit had sparks igniting in your center, grinding yourself on him for more pressure while he pushed harder, it feeling so good.

A knock sounded behind you. “Y’all better not be doin’ what I think you’re doin’,” Robyn said, loud enough for you both to hear.

Everything paused, and you detached your mouth from his, ignoring the pout on his kiss-swollen lips. “We’re not,” you answered her. “Things have stayed PG-13.”

“Dirty Dancin’ is PG-13, and that shit is horny as hell.”

You snorted. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Is Javi okay?”

Sliding your fingers into the hair above his ears, you pecked him on the tip of the nose, making him smile. “He’ll be okay.”

“Good. I called Carla—” She was the nurse who owed you a favor. “—and she’s comin’ in to cover for you.”

“You’re a fucking lifesaver, Robyn,” you said. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Just make sure to bring back the crash cart before you go.”

“Will do.” Her retreating footsteps could be heard, and your attention focused on the man in front of you, his big chocolate-colored eyes on yours, seeing in his gaze that he didn’t want to leave without you. If you had to guess, he would be exceptionally clingy for the next couple of days, and that was okay. “Do you wanna keep me company while I finish restocking the cart?” you asked him.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, just don’t distract me.”

“I won’t.”

That was hard to believe and made you smile.

“Uh-huh, okay, quick kiss, then I’m gonna finish my work.”

Slotting your lips against his, you kissed him momentarily, a sad sound leaving him when you broke apart.

Lightly pressing on his chest, you said, “May I please pass?” He had you caged in with your back to the door.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, taking a step away.

Getting back to what you were doing, the task was easy enough—check each drawer and replenish what had been used. You moved about the room grabbing things, and Javi was your silent guardian who’d touch you when you were within reach—a hand to your lower back, your shoulder, a soft grab of your ass. When you were done, he was hot on your heels as you returned to the nurse’s station, putting the cart back where it belonged, and getting your water bottle from the desk, taking a few long, refreshing drinks.

Robyn was in her seat, writing notes on a chart, Javi standing on the other side of the desk, patiently waiting.

Her head turned toward you, waving you to her so you crouched down while she whispered quietly enough so your boyfriend wouldn’t hear, “Hey, what do you want me to do with that newspaper?”

“Did you read it?” you asked just as softly.

“Yeah, I hope you don't mind. I didn’t know what it was.”

“It’s fine,” you reassured. “Be real with me. How bad was it?”

“Bad. Like, if what she’s sayin’ is true, it’s really surprisin’ he’s not locked up.”

“Yeah, not all of it is. That guy who brought it was a real piece of work. If he shows up again, call security immediately. He’s not welcome here.”

“Will do, and the paper…?”

“Just throw it out. I don’t want to read it.”

“I can do that. Now get goin’. I was real worried when poor Javi showed up lookin’ like an absolute wreck.”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later. Thank you!”

It was time to leave, your water bottle in one hand and Javi’s in your other. A quick stop had to be made at the locker room where you got your purse, your cell phone tucked inside, and showing the missed calls from Javi that made you frown.

He was quiet, the kind of quiet where he was lost in his thoughts, letting his worries and fears consume him—something he hasn’t done in quite some time with how well therapy has been working for him.

Stepping outside of the hospital, he paused, his eyes squinting in the sunlight as he looked over at you, scratching his mustache with his free hand. “Will you, uh, ride with me?”

This was why you needed to leave work early—he wouldn’t want to be alone. He needed you with him.

Smiling in reassurance, you replied, “Of course. We’ll come get my car tomorrow.”

A little smile appeared on his lips. “Thank you,” he said, ducking his head and leading you to where he parked.

His truck was taking up two spaces, cutting across them diagonally.

You were about to comment.

“Don’t,” Javi said, unlocking the driver’s side door, it squealing as he pulled it open for you. “I know I parked like an asshole.”

Smiling, you patted his cheek as you moved to get in. “At least you’re aware.”

He loudly sighed, following you into the cab, where you sat down in the middle of the bench seat beside him and buckled up, him following suit. Putting his aviator sunglasses on, his keys jingled as he fit one into the ignition, the truck roaring to life after a second, along with the whirring of the air conditioning.

Shifting into reverse, his arm went behind you as he looked back to get out of the parking spaces, then he put it into drive, and you were on your way.

Something on the passenger seat caught your attention, seeing a manilla folder.

“Did you bring work home?” you asked.

“What?” A look of confusion was on his face when his head turned toward you.

“The file.”

The blinker clicked as he turned onto the street.

“What file?”

Picking it up, you showed him. “This file.”

“Oh.” He squeezed the steering wheel so hard the leather loudly creaked while his attention returned to the road. “Stechner had that. It’s information on you.”

Your stomach did a somersault, looking at the folder in your hand. “Did you read it?” you asked.

“No, and I didn’t plan on reading it unless you wanted me to.”

“That’s very sweet of you. Now let’s see how much of my privacy has been invaded,” you said, opening it.

There was a small stack of papers inside, the first page showing your current driver’s license photo with all the details the DMV collected, such as your birthdate, height, weight, eye color, etc. It had your current address and the others you’ve lived at in the last ten years.

This just looked like a fact sheet about you.

“It’s crazy he had a dossier on me.”

“I can believe it…” Javi mumbled.

The next page featured your academic and employment history.

“Javi?”

“Yeah?”

“I have a secret…”

“Okay,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I want to tell you it…”

He glanced over, softly saying, “Only if you want to.”

“I do. You know how I told you I always wanted to be a nurse?”

“Yeah?” His attention went back to driving.

“Well, as you know, my parents kept my college money from me, and I had to work while also going to school, which was a big struggle—my sophomore year, I took the Medical College Admission Test to get into medical school so if I got in, my parents would pay for everything…”

When he looked over, his eyes were rounded under his dark lenses. “Are you secretly a doctor?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“What? No. I’m a nurse. I failed the test.”

“Is that… okay?” He focused forward again.

“Oh, yeah. My heart wasn’t in becoming a doctor, and yes, working and going to school was hard, but at least I’m doing what I wanted.”

“You are.” He smiled. “And you’re damn good at it.”

“Thank you! I helped save a man’s life today.”

“You told me. I’m proud of you, mi amor (my love).”

“Thanks. Okay, back to reading about my life.”

The next page had your financial information, and you quickly closed the file, hugging it to your chest.

Javi noticed, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Turning your head to look at his beautiful profile, you asked, “Did he mention anything about me you didn’t know?”

“Yeah, that you graduated top of your class which is really fucking impressive.”

“I guess…” You hated acknowledging your achievements. “Did he say anything else…?”

“No…? What are you worried he told me?” His eyebrows were pulled together when he chanced a look at you.

Taking a deep breath, you thought over what to say.

“I have another secret…” you finally said.

There was a deep frown on his face. “With how you’re acting, I feel like I’m not going to like what it is…”

“You know, I’m not entirely sure how you will react when you find out.”

“Well, my head’s been fucked today, so my immediate thought is you’re already married or some shit.”

“Who in the world would I be married to, Javi?”

“I don’t know, maybe that David asshole who cheated on you.”

“Daniel? Gross. I am not married… yet. The only person I’m marrying is you,” you said, knocking your shoulder against his.

That made him smile. “Good. ‘Cause you’re the only person I’m marrying.”

“There we go. It’s agreed.”

“So, what’s this secret?” he asked, looking over quickly.

“Oh, you don’t get to find out about it until we’re married, and my last name is Peña for legal reasons.”

He was quiet for a second, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, making you nervous.

“There was something he kept talking about that I didn’t understand,” Javi said, scratching at his chin. “It didn’t make any fucking sense to me, so I’m gonna ask you a question, and you can answer yes or no.”

“What’s the question?”

The truck was stopped at a light.

“Are you secretly loaded?”

Your heart stuttered.

“Oh, he said something about money...”

His eyes met yours. “He said a lot about money and how I was only dating you for it—yes or no, Cielito.”

“Yes.”

He nodded, his gaze returning to the road as the traffic light turned green, continuing your journey. “Are you gonna make me sign a prenup or whatever it’s called? Should I get a lawyer?”

“My parents would be beside themselves if I didn’t, so no, I’m not.”

His hand moved to your thigh, squeezing it. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“I’d trust you with my life.”

He smiled at you. “I’d trust you with my life. How much?”

“Enough that our multiple children will get to go to their dream colleges and study whatever the fuck they want.”

It was like you could see his brain break as he comprehended what you said, having to turn his head back toward the windshield.

“Multiple?” he whispered, his throat working as he swallowed.

Honestly, it was adorable that was what he got stuck on.

You snorted. “I tell you I’ve got a good chunk of change, and you’re more excited over us having a bunch of kids.”

His head whipped toward you. “A bunch of kids?”

It made you giggle. “Babe, you are well aware we are having more than one. We’ll see how many I can pop out before my baby factory closes for business.”

The smile he gave you was so big his dimple appeared. “I really fucking love you.”

“I really fucking love you, too.”

This was a good conversation to keep his mind off of the day's events, setting the file on the empty seat next to you and cuddling into his side, lacing your fingers with his over your thigh. He kissed the top of your head before his eyes were forward once more.

“The house should have at least five bedrooms, maybe six,” he said.

The previous night, he’d brought up the suggestion of building a house, and you loved it, especially getting to live so close to Chucho, the two of you talking at length about what you’d want it to have.

“And yesterday it was four. At this rate, we’ll be at ten by tomorrow. How many babies do you want?”

“As many as you’re willing to have. I’d be happy with one or ten. It’s all up to you,” he answered truthfully.

“My vagina hurts at the thought of pushing out ten babies. I think that’s too many.”

“Ten is too many, got it. At least three…?”

“I can agree to three, for sure, and we’ll just see how we’re feeling after that.”

“Three kids,” he breathed, a beaming smile on his face. “I’m gonna have at least three kids, a wife, a dog, a house—living the fucking dream. Fuck, this is exciting.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“You deserve it, baby,” you said, leaning to kiss the dimple in his cheek. “You’ve spent enough of your life suffering and atoning for your past. It’s time for you to get your happily ever after, and I’m gonna make all your dreams come true.”

His misting eyes met yours. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. I just love you so fucking much and want you to be happy.”

“I love you, too, and you make me happy. You’re everything to me; my present, my future, it all belongs to you.”

The rest of the ride was spent talking about nothing too important—asking how his meeting went that day, what he wanted to do over the weekend, what he’d like you to make him for lunch, keeping the conversation flowing all the way to him pulling into his spot at the apartment complex.

It was important that he was comfortable for the discussion you were going to be having, so after you both got inside, doing your usual ritual upon first coming home—removing shoes, emptying pockets, etc., a trip was made to the kitchen where a quick lunch was put together of peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches with chips as a side. The dirty dishes were left in the sink as you pulled him to the bedroom, where you both changed out of your work clothes and into something more casual; for you, it was an oversized t-shirt and some soft sleep shorts. Javi kept his boxer briefs on and wore a plain white t-shirt that stretched over his chest and shoulders.

There was silence again as he grabbed your hand this time and led you to the living room. He sat down on the couch, his back resting against the cushion with his knees spread, watching as you didn’t sit next to him like he expected but instead crawled into his lap, straddling his thighs with your chests pressed together. His arms automatically wrapped around you, your fingers pushing into his hair, knowing without a doubt talking like this would bring him the most solace.

His eyes were on yours as you kissed him, and he hugged you closer while your mouths melded, wanting him to feel your love and devotion. Your foreheads touched when your lips parted, his nose nudging yours.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?” you softly asked. “I meant to call you, but one of my patients tried to die on me, which is why I didn’t answer my phone.”

“I, uh, thought…”

“I was ignoring your calls because your brain was being an asshole and making you think the worst?”

“Yeah… And when I called your work, Robyn was, uh, abrupt with me.”

“Oh, I don’t think she did it on purpose. Code Blues are stressful.”

“Yeah, I don’t think she did either. What did he say to you?”

“I’m not entirely sure what his game plan was because he started off the conversation by rubbing it in my face that you’ve slept with a lot of women, and definitely implied that, I am not as attractive as them.”

“That fucking prick,” he seethed. “You know you’re gorgeous.”

“I know I’m gorgeous to you, and that’s all that matters. Like, you’re very aggressive in making sure I know you’re attracted to me.”

His big hands grabbed your ass and squeezed while he kissed you. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your lips. “Of course, I’m going to tell you.”

Pulling back, you looked him in the eyes. “Yeah, he lost all my respect and name privileges after that.”

His eyebrows creased. “Name privileges?”

You snorted. “Yeah, I called him things that weren’t his name just to be petty.”

He smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you replied and continued telling him about what Stechner had to say about Los Pepes and how you called him out on the lies by fucking with him. “—there was something that really bothered me, and it was the last thing he said about you liking to use women for sex, information, and money—which I know isn’t true. I just hated this guy's perception of you, which a lot of people seem to share. You’re not like that. Our first fight was literally about how you wanted us to contribute equally, and I’m pretty sure I initiate sex more than you.”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, you do. I haven’t fucked anyone more or had someone want me so bad—it makes me feel really good about myself.”

Smiling, you said, “You’re adorable. So, that was it. I didn’t read the newspaper.”

“Good.”

You frowned. “Kinda sucks, I could’ve accidentally come across it without knowing the truth... That stings a bit.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m not angry at you or anything, and I still love you with all my heart. This is gonna be a lot to take in. Are you nervous?” It was showing on his face.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Your nails scratched lovingly at his scalp, your gazes locked. “Don’t be. Relax, and just talk to me. Tell me all the terrible shit, and know that I’m still going to love you anyway.”

His mouth was turned down in a frown, seeing his eyes getting watery. “Promise?” he asked.

Sitting up a little, you held your pinkie out before you. “I pinkie promise, and you know the sanctity of a pinkie promise.”

He smiled a little, huffing out a breath while looping his pinkie around yours to seal the promise. You brought his hand up to kiss it. “There,” you said. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Javi sniffled. “Okay. Let me hold you.” Wrapping your arms around his torso, you pressed your front to his, tucking your chin on his shoulder while he hugged you close.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“Fuck, where to start. You probably wanna know more about Los Pepes.”

“I’m curious, yes.”

“Okay, well, that shit happened because a man died. His name was Horacio Carrillo…” He started by telling you who the man was: the first head of Search Bloc until it was disbanded because of how ruthless he was; he went to Spain for a while, then returned to head Search Bloc again, and was the only man Pablo Escobar ever feared.

“—he, uh, was really fucking determined to take down Escobar,” Javier said, “no matter what it took. He… Fuck, he even killed a kid…”

It was bad enough he’d gotten a former president’s daughter killed, but a child?

“What?”

“Yeah.” The emotion was heavy as he spoke. “The cartel used children as spotters, and one night, he rounded up some and shot one to set an example. He didn’t fucking care. It was too fucking much for me, baby. A kid. A fucking child. He just shot him in the head. A kid,” his voice cracked on the last word.

“I’m so sorry that happened, and you had to see it,” you said, hugging him tighter.

His hand moved to wipe his eyes. “I’m sorry it happened, too.”

“How did Carrillo die?”

“Me. I got him killed—I got him and his men killed.”

“What happened?”

“I fucked up…” An informant played him, she just didn’t know it at the time—she gave him what she thought was the location of Escobar, which turned out to be an ambush. Javier and Steve would’ve gone with Carrillo if it had been their choice, but bureaucracy ended up saving their lives, and now Javi lived not only with the guilt of getting the men killed but also surviving.

He was speaking roughly through his tears as he recounted everything. This was only a fraction of what he’d gone through, and it was all so awful. No wonder he was so messed up; he went through so much down there, and your heart was hurting for him.

“—Los Pepes forced me to meet with them, and I couldn’t fucking believe they were asking me to help them—thought it was a fucking joke; the people I was trying to put away wanting my help? Of course, I turned them down. Then the guy who took over heading Search Bloc wanted to use really dated methods to try and get Escobar—shit like search grids, which wouldn’t fucking work. That informant who screwed me over? She led us to a man working for the cartel, and when we followed him, we found one of Pablo’s top sicarios. I tried to do things right. I called for backup, but they fucking denied me, and I couldn’t let this guy get away.” He inhaled deeply. “You have to understand. I spent years of my life trying to get Escobar, and this happened not too long after my mom died, so I was desperate. I was still grieving and hating all the time I lost with her, and I had to get the bastard, so it wasn’t all for nothing.” He spoke slightly softer, “I just wanted to catch him like mi mamá (my mom) always said I would.”

“You wanted to make her proud, even though she was always proud of you.”

“Yeah… So, I felt like my hands were tied, and I made the call to Los Pepes. We got the guy, and I told them I’d give them intel, but I was only about killing Pablo Escobar, nothing else. I didn’t have to cut through any red tape with them, I called, and they went after the fuckers—it was easy. I gave them, I don’t know, five or six tips? Then shit got out of control between them and the cartel, and I was out. Killing sicarios is one thing, but innocent people? Fuck that. I didn’t sign up for that. I… I tried to save a lawyer who worked for Pablo.” He sniffled. “Knew where he was and kept it to myself ‘cause he had his kid with him—a teen son, and I wanted information from him. Another guy I worked with ratted them out to Los Pepes, and I found them both dead and stuffed in a trunk. I should’ve fucking made sure I wasn’t being followed.”

His body shook as he cried.

This man felt so much guilt over the deaths of these people, and he didn’t even pull the trigger. There was no way for him to know Carrillo would be so merciless and have it in him to kill a child. Javi had no reason to doubt the intel he’d been given by the informant was a trap. He’d done his best to protect the lawyer and his son but was betrayed. Other people did these dirty deeds, yet the man you loved felt responsible because he cared so damn much.

Him caring was his downfall.

Along with his desperation.

It made him take significant risks, like working with his enemy.

“Oh, babe,” you whispered, turning your head to kiss his neck. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Feels like my fault.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Fuck.” He sniffed, wiping his eyes again, having calmed down a little. “So, one of the leaders of Los Pepes wanted to turn on the rest and came to me for a deal. I got it approved, but fucking Stechner got her right out from under us and had me take the fall for Los Pepes and all the shit they did.”

“A coup.”

“A fucking coup.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna keep talking?”

“Yes. I think I told you the sex workers I’d meet up with were also used by Escobar’s men, and I’d pay them for any information they’d give me?”

“Yeah.”

“The first time I met up with one, her name was Carina. I only wanted to hear what she heard, and that was it, and I told her upfront the reason I was paying for her time.” He sighed. “My mistake was doing it at the brothel because she told me what she knew, and then I couldn’t leave without seeming suspicious or looking like a really bad lay—both things I didn’t want. Well, we had time to kill, and she was beautiful and willing, and yeah…”

“Ohhh nooo,” you deadpanned. “Sex with a beautiful consenting woman, the horror.”

He pinched your hip. “I couldn’t finish.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she may have been consenting and beautiful, but it turns me off if I can tell the person I’m with is faking, and she was faking. Nice girl, though, and I did pay for the sex, but I didn’t make that same mistake. For a while, I’d only pay the girls I saw for their intel, and as we got to know each other better, the sex came naturally, and I became a favorite.”

“Of course you did.”

There was a pause, hearing him audibly gulp.

“Being a favorite almost got one of them killed,” he whispered.

“Oh, Javi,” you gasped.

“Her name was Helena, and because I didn’t save her in time, worse things happened to her.” He was getting choked up. “It was all my fault.” His breath stuttered. “She was just trying to get me information and got caught, and they did horrible fucking shit to her. It haunts me how I… Fuck.” He took a deep breath. “It fucking haunts me how I found her—everything that happened to her was because of me.” He was crying again.

You hugged him hard, kissing his jaw. “You still saved her life. She’s still alive, and that’s all that matters.”

“I shouldn’t have had to save her life. I shouldn’t have made her feel like she needed to take such a big fucking risk,” his words were laced with anger at himself. “Because of me, that poor girl is traumatized and has to live with what those monsters did to her, and I fucking hate that they didn’t suffer as we killed them. They should’ve felt more pain than they caused her and had to beg for death—they got off too fucking easy, and I hate it.”

Before now, based simply on how awful things were in Colombia, you thought there was a possibility your boyfriend may have killed someone in the line of duty.

He had never brought it up and had always been somewhat vague about his work with the DEA.

This confession? It had thrown you a little off-kilter at the reveal the man you were going to marry had killed multiple people, and not only that, but you were pretty fucking sure he had also dabbled in torture.

“They definitely deserved to suffer, and it’s absolutely wild I’m saying this: I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to torture them—I know you would’ve done a great job.” Maybe that was too supportive… “What happened to Helena?”

It was silent for a second.

“Javi?”

He spoke slowly, “Did you just encourage me to torture people and say I’d do a great job?”

“Javier, before this conversation, I never had confirmation you’ve killed someone, and now I do, and it’s apparently multiple someones, along with a side of torturing, which is a bit of a curveball. None of it freaks me out, per se. It’s just a lot to process, and based on what you said these horrible monsters did to Helena, slow and painful deaths sound warranted—I’m doing my best to comfort and support you while also absorbing all of the new lore about husband-to-be.”

“I’m sorry for throwing you a curveball...”

“If I’m being honest, I feel even safer with you and a little better about the gun you insist we keep in our bedroom.” That was the topic of your second fight when Javi sprung it on you two days after moving in that he’d gotten a small briefcase looking safe to keep his gun in under the bed—you previously worked in an emergency room in a big city; you knew what guns could do and weren’t a fan.

“‘Cause now you’re aware I know how to use it?”

You didn’t even have to look at him to know his eyebrow was raised. Sitting up, you were met with the expression you expected.

“Okay, first of all, you’re a Texan, and Texans have a weird fucking obsession with guns. Add in you’re also a cop, and it’s honestly surprising you only have one.”

“The others are at Pop’s.” Of course, they were. “I just brought over what I need to protect us.” Holding up his right palm to you, his fingers slightly spread, he said, “Feel my hand.”

“Feel your hand…?”

“Yes,” he replied, nodding toward it. “Feel it.”

“Okay…” Not entirely sure what was going on, you did as he said, sliding the fingers of your left hand over the rough skin on his palm.

“Feel the calluses?”

There was the one you first touched and some on his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“How do you think I got them?”

Meeting his eyes, you took a guess. “I’d had thought from working on the ranch doing manual labor.”

“No, these are gun calluses from using my service weapon so much.”

“Oh.”

Grabbing your hand, he brought your knuckles to his lips as he kissed each one, the contrast of rough and soft, taking your breath away.

“Yes, I’ve killed when I had to,” he murmured, keeping his gaze on yours. “I’ve done things to make people talk when I had to. I never particularly liked doing any of it, but I had a job to do.”

“I know you did.”

He nodded once. “I want you to feel safe with me,” he said, kissing the center of your palm. “I want you to know I’ll do anything to protect you. Anything. You’re safe with me.”

I’ll kill for you.

Was what he wasn’t saying out loud.

“I know I’m safe with you.”

“Good. It took a lot of work, but I got Helena out of Colombia to the US. It was something I needed to do after all she’d been through.”

“Have you heard from her?”

He huffed out a breath. “No. I don’t even know where she is. None of the girls I got out of there ever contacted me again, and why would they? We got what we wanted out of each other.” His lips turned down, frowning. “I’ve always worried about her and hope she was able to have a good life.”

Pushing back his bangs, you told him, “I bet she met a lovely man who treats her right and takes care of her, and they got married and had a bunch of babies.”

“That’d be nice. She deserves that.” He frowned. “I feel really fucking guilty about using the sex workers as informants and putting their lives in danger.” A loud sigh left him. “And sleeping with them. It was all fucked up.”

“Yeah, it makes sense you’d feel guilty. Especially with what happened to Helena.”

“Yeah.” His eyes closed. “Jesus, there’s still so much more I need to tell you.”

“Then lay it on me.”

He looked at you with big pleading eyes and didn’t even need to ask; you cuddled back against him, hugging him while he held you. His body was relaxed, and when he started talking, he didn’t stop.

It was a barrage of new information you had to process as quickly as possible while he got more and more upset by each thing he told you—a lot of people who were promised safety either: almost getting killed, being exploited, kidnapped, or murdered.

What you came to realize was he felt intense guilt about things he did and didn’t do, and the stuff he was guilty of? Haunted him, tormented him, he was covered in invisible wounds that gaped and constantly bled, keeping his sins fresh on his mind—no matter how hard he tried to close them and forget, the stitches always seemed to break and ooze. No wonder he took to therapy like a duck to water; it was probably the first time he’d known peace since college.

Then that fucker Stechner had to show up and undo all of the hard work Javi’s put into himself.

For you, it was a lot to take in. None of it made you think any differently of him. Instead, it gave you a better understanding of what he’d gone through and why he felt so poorly of himself. Yes, he did some terrible things and paid the price for them, having been remorseful about them for all these years.

In your mind, he was still a good man.

In your heart, you knew if he could go back in time, he’d do things differently.

That was all that mattered.

What really got to you was he’d been through hell—actual hell with all of the death and violence, Javier waking up every morning, never knowing if it’d be his last, and doing his best to survive. Living like that can turn you into a hard shell of a person, yet he managed to keep his softness.

If you had to guess, it was probably because of his mother—she was his soft spot, even after she passed. He had pictures of her in his apartments in Colombia and her rosary, keeping her alive with him and his humanity.

He was bawling in your arms about how he almost got General Hugo Martínez’s son killed by Los Pepes because he tipped them off and barely managed to get the young man out of the situation.

“—I fucked up so bad. I was always fucking up, and people died because of me. I was so focused on the job I became a heartless, fucking monster,” he sobbed.

“Hey, that’s not true,” you replied. “Yeah, you made mistakes, but like with Los Pepes, when things took a turn, you backed out and even tried to save a guy. You’re not a heartless monster. You’ve never been a heartless monster. You cared a lot about your job and getting it done, which caused you to do some really questionable things, but you still had a conscience—you weren’t murdering children in cold blood. You still cared about people. Javi, it’s not up to me to judge you for the stuff you did in the past, and I know how all of it eats at you, but you need to let it go.” His breaths had evened out, hearing him sniffling by your ear. “I love you, every part of you, even the imperfections, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He sounded stuffed up when he asked, “You’re not?”

“Nope. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life. You know, ‘til death do us part, and all that jazz, but I’m taking a page from your dad and following my soulmate into the afterlife. So, life and death, you’re never getting rid of me.”

“I wouldn’t want to. It took me too fucking long to find you—I’m following you wherever you go.”

“This is giving me Romeo and Juliet vibes.”

“Your family does hate mine…”

It wasn’t so much that your family hated his, they just thought they were better with their money and prestige and couldn’t fathom why you’d want to be with someone who couldn’t afford a life of luxury.

Speaking of them, there’d been hardly any contact in the last couple of months because it finally got through to them that your relationship with Javi was serious, and he wasn’t going anywhere. The last call you had with your mother was a week or so ago, and she asked when you’d be making your annual trip to visit them in December; Begrudgingly, she even invited your boyfriend with the caveat he would have to stay in a guest room, which was beyond absurd. She didn’t take it well when you told her you wouldn’t be coming this year and that you’d mail her Christmas gift.

Moving, you sat up, sliding your hands up his t-shirt-covered chest, softly skating over the sides of his neck to his jaw, tenderly holding it as you leaned in to kiss him; something sweet, gentle. When you broke away, his eyes were closed, his lips turned up, and his cheeks shining in the light of the room.

Using your thumbs, you started wiping at the wetness on his face.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” you recited. “It is the east, and Javier is the sun.”

Those big brown eyes of his blinked open.

“No, you’re the sun.”

That made your eyebrow arch, your hands stopping.

“I’m the sun? Why am I the sun?”

He was rubbing your hips.

“Because you’re bright and beautiful. Your warmth gives me life and helps me grow. The last reason is obvious.” He crookedly smiled.

Frowning, your brows furrowed, not knowing what he meant.

“Apparently, it’s not because I have no idea.”

Reaching, his big hands held your face.

“My world revolves around you. You’re the center of my universe. No puedo vivir sin ti porque eres todo para mí (I can’t live without you because you’re my everything). Prometo que soy tuyo por siempre (I promise, I am yours forever). Mi corazón, mi cuerpo, mi alma, son tuyos (My heart, my body, my soul, they are all yours). Te amaré hasta mi último suspiro y haste que mi corazón deje de latir y luego esperaré a que me encuentres de nuevo al otro lado (I will love you until I take my last breath and my heart stops beating and then I will wait for you to find me on the other side). Yo soy tuyo, y tú eres mía, por siempre en la vida y la muerte (I am yours, and you are mine forever in life and death).”

Your eyes were burning with unshed tears.

“God, you know how emotional I get when you go all Gomez Addams on me.”

He only knew who that was because you’ve made him watch the recent movies… multiple times.

A smile appeared on his face. “Moriría por ti (I would die for you),” he said. “Mataría por ti (I would kill for you). De cualquier manera, qué alegria (Either way, what bliss).” He winked.

Your eyes had gone round. “Javier, that is illegal.”

He chuckled.

Playfully, you smacked his chest. “I’m serious. Straight to jail. You’re not allowed to quote Gomez when I can’t be horny about it, and right now, we are having a very important discussion.”

“I’m sorry, Cielito,” he replied, pulling you down for a kiss.

When you separated, your faces were close enough your noses were touching, the tip of his nuzzling against yours.

“How do you feel?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Tired,” he sighed.

“Makes sense. Is there anything else I should know?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry it all came out like this,” you said. “If I ever see that motherfucker again, I’m punching him in his stupid face for all the shit he’s put you through. I hate him.”

“I punched him.”

That made you pull back, your gaze on his.

“What?”

“I punched him.”

“When?”

“Today.”

Your eyes widened. “Which hand?”

His eyebrows pulled together.

“Right?”

“Let me see it.” He brought it up to you, and you took it in your hands to inspect his knuckles, noticing some redness. “Does it hurt?” you asked.

“Not really.”

“Nothing feels broken?” you inquired, moving and wiggling his fingers.

He snorted. “Mi amor (my love), I know how to punch.”

“People who know how to punch can still fuck up their hands. Do you want me to ice it?”

“No, baby. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

His hand pulled from your grip to cradle your cheek, making you look at him. A soft smile was on his lips. “Cielito, I promise I’m okay.”

“You pinkie promise?”

An exasperated breath left him, holding up his right pinkie. “I pinkie promise.” Hooking yours around his it made you feel better.

“Okay. Why’d you punch him?”

A grumpy expression came over his face. “Because I thought he got you to leave me, and it was about fucking time I did.”

“I’m happy you did. He deserved it.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Is he pressing charges?”

Javi did assault the guy, even if he had it coming.

“No. I threatened his job, and Joy heard everything.”

The Sheriff’s assistant was lovely and a big supporter of your relationship with your boyfriend. She confided in you she had a trick for making Javi less grumpy at work, and it was asking or talking about you. Apparently, it completely turned his mood around, and he had no idea, which was delightful.

“Well, that’s good. She’d have your back.”

“Yeah, she did.”

His mouth opened, letting out a big yawn, triggering you to yawn, too.

“Wanna take a nap?” you asked through it.

“That’s a great fucking idea.”

Checking your watch, it was half past three, realizing you’d been talking for a couple of hours.

“Let’s go take a quick shower, then get in bed. We can order pizza for dinner.”

“Sounds good. Un beso, por favor (One kiss, please),” he said, grunting as he sat up straighter to get closer to your face.

Smirking, you grabbed his chin in your hand, his heavy-lidded eyes on yours.

“Un beso (One kiss)? No tienes el control para un solo beso (You don’t have the control for only one kiss). No sobrevivirías con uno solo (You wouldn’t survive with only one).”

“Tienes razón (You’re right). Necesito dos besos (I need two kisses).”

“Necesitas dos besos (You need two kisses)? No más (No more)?”

“Hmmm, tuve un mal día y me siento triste (Hmmm, I did have a bad day and I’m feeling sad). Tienes razón, dos no es suficiente (You’re right, two isn’t enough). Mi amor, ¿me besarás hasta que me sienta mejor (My love, will you kiss me until I feel better)?”

“Sí, mi futuro esposo (Yes, my future husband). Te daré tantos besos como necesites (I will give you as many kisses as you need),” you replied, pressing your lips to his and feeling him smiling.

Many kisses and minutes later, the two of you found yourselves freshly showered under the blankets of your shared bed, your bare fronts pressed together and legs intertwined, his arms wrapped around you to hold you close against him.

Your head was beside his on the same pillow, sliding your fingers into his damp hair and toying with it while you lay there.

“I’m sorry about what happened today,” his voice was quiet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, the whole thing was fucking insane, and I can’t believe you’ve literally got enemies who want to destroy your life, but I’m okay. Are there any other archnemesis I should be aware of? Any other CIA dudes?”

“No.”

“FBI?”

“No.”

“Secret Service.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Really?” you harshly whispered.

“No.”

Glaring, you tugged on his hair as you replied, “Asshole. But you’re sure no one else has it out for you besides She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?”

Fucking Lorraine.

He thought it over for a second.

“I think you’ve met them all. The others are either dead or locked up.”

“I guess that’s good.” Exhaustion was catching up to you, your eyelids feeling heavy. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Closing your eyes, you said, “Mmkay, it’s sleepy time. Night, babe.”

“Night, Cielito.” He leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “Thank you for loving all of me,” he whispered.

“No reason to thank me,” you replied, snuggling closer to him. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Loving you is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

It was getting hard to stay awake, feeling so out of it, your thoughts thick and slow like molasses, almost like you were drunk. It didn’t even register that you said out loud the first thing that popped into your head after hearing what he said.

“Mmm,” you mumbled. “Marry me…”

Sleep came for you, pulling you down into a dreamless abyss. Maybe you were dreaming it, thinking you might’ve heard the quietest, yes.

An hour passed.

At some point, you rolled out of Javi’s arms, seeking cooler sheets.

Another hour went by.

Jostling woke you, it taking you a second to reorient yourself with your consciousness, realizing the interruption was your boyfriend beside you thrashing—not violently, it was very mild, his legs and arms moving enough you felt it.

“No,” he softly whined, and your eyes flew open.

It was a nightmare.

He was having a nightmare.

“No, no, no,” he continued. “Please, no.”

Your first instinct was to wake him up and save him from the misery, but that could do more harm than good or possibly elicit a violent reaction. All you could do was let him work through it and hope his sleep shifted to something more peaceful.

Keeping your ears peeled, you listened for if he needed you.

A minute later, he went still, and you let out a relieved breath.

Sunlight crept through the cracks in the blinds behind the blue linen curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. The only sounds you could hear were the hum of the air conditioner and people walking around in the apartment above yours.

Maybe if you cuddled him, it would make him feel better.

Getting ready to face him, he suddenly shouted Cielito, his body bolting upright while his chest heaved in heavy breaths.

Immediately, you turned toward him; the sheets were pooling at his waist, his eyes wide open, and you reached to touch his arm, Javi jolting when you made contact.

“It’s me, baby,” you reassured. “It’s just me. I’m here.”

He looked at you with tears streaming down his cheeks, a layer of sweat making his skin glisten.

“You’re here,” he breathed.

“I’m here.”

“You’re not there.”

Those three words made your heart break, wondering what terrible things he was dreaming about.

“No, Javi. I’m here at our apartment in Laredo with you. We’re home.”

“We’re home.” He swallowed thickly. “I’m at home with you. Fuck.” His palms pressed to his face.

“What do you need?”

His hands fell, big, round eyes meeting yours, seeing his distress.

“To forget.”

Moving, you sat up. “Okay, we can either go watch a movie in the living room, or I can make you come.”

“Make me feel good. Please.”

“I can do that, baby,” you said, leaning in to kiss him. He cupped your cheeks, deepening it with a press of his tongue between your lips, welcoming the intrusion, and tangling yours with his in the way he liked.

As far as you knew, this was the first nightmare he’d had at home with you, and his desperation for you to make it all go away was palpable—you could feel his need. A large palm lowered to fondle the familiar weight of your breast, moaning when he rolled your pebbled nipple between his fingers. Scooting closer to him, without looking, you uncovered his waist to get your hand where he was starting to harden, wrapping your fingers around his length, languidly stroking him.

The kissing was messy as he rapidly grew in your fist, his palm skating down to the apex of your thighs, gasping when two thick digits slid through your slit—gathering some of the wetness pooling at your opening, he used it to easily glide his fingers over your perky little clit, circling it so sparks of arousal danced in your belly.

This was about him wanting to forget, and you had some ideas on how to achieve that, needing to get him nice and hard before you began.

The need to breathe became too much, and he nipped at your bottom lip, kissing along your jaw to your neck, making you hum in pleasure when he sucked on your pulse point.

His lips trailed up, feeling his hot breath at your ear, his voice a rough, soft rasp, “Let me eat your pussy.”

“I’m making you feel good, baby,” you answered, his cock at full-mast in your hand. He moved to look you in the eyes with a little frown on his face. “I’m gonna make you lose your mind first, and then you can do whatever you want to me.”

The pink of his tongue peeked between his lips, nodding his head once.

“I know you trust me, but are you okay with me tying you up?” you asked.

His eyes darkened, and he nodded his head again.

“Words, Javi,” you said. “I need to hear it.”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Be right back.” You quickly kissed him. “Get comfy in the middle.”

Getting out of bed, you went to his dresser, reaching into his tie box to grab a black patterned tie.

The blankets had been kicked to the end of the mattress, and he stacked some pillows behind his back to prop himself up in the spot you requested, his dick hard and leaking precum in the trail of hair on his lower belly.

“God, you’re pretty,” you said as you got onto the bed, crawling towards him.

He spoke so softly, “Not as pretty as you.” His lips were curled up in a tiny smile as he looked at you, thinking it was sweet he was trying so hard to act normal when he was clearly still messed up from the dream.

“Such a sweetheart. Hands up, baby,” you said, sitting on your knees beside him.

The white metal headboard arched with a second arch in the middle and vertical slats under it, making it easy to slip the tie over the metal after twisting it in a way that left two loops his wrists could fit into.

Doing as you said, his hands came up, and quickly, you had them secured, making sure they weren’t too tight and nodding to yourself when you were satisfied.

“Are you comfortable?” you asked.

His elbows were up, arms tied to the headboard behind his head.

He was looking at you and nodded.

“What’s your safeword?” you asked.

“Rábano (Radish),” he answered immediately, which was good.

“As always, the stoplight system is also in play, or if you tell me to stop, I will. Please tell me if it’s too much.”

“I will.”

Smiling, you replied, “Good boy,” ending it with a wink that made him gulp hard.

It only took a moment to get in position, kneeling between his wide-spread legs.

Now, you loved being Javi’s pillow princess or any position where your only job was taking what he had to give. But the times like this where he handed over the reins and put you totally in control? Oh, it was one of your favorites—definitely, top three. The power you felt at making him feel so good was addictive, greedily wanting every moan, whimper, whine, and groan you could pull from him—it was the best.

Seeing him there in front of you naked, a slight sheen on his skin from sweat, a fresh, darkening hickey over his pulse point from the night before, his hard cock resting against his happy trail in a pool of precum—he was a sight to behold, and he was yours, wanting to do whatever you could to make him feel better.

Moving forward, your hands held up your weight on either side of him as you crawled over his body to kiss him on the lips, all slow and tender, ending it with a nip to his bottom lip.

“I love your lips,” you said, nudging your nose against his. “I love your nose.” Your mouth pressed to his chin in a kiss, speaking into his skin, “I love your chin.” Peppering kisses along his jaw, your words were muffled, “I love your jaw.”

Your trail continued down his neck, feeling him swallow hard, “God, your neck.” Here you stayed, laving him in kisses and sucking marks into the taut golden skin, making him softly whimper.

He asked you to make him feel good, and yes, you could get straight to the point and make him come, but that wasn’t enough—he needed it drawn out and to hear and feel your love for him. Basically, you were going to tease him and worship his body while you did it because the easiest way to turn Javi into a puddle was by giving him physical affection and verbal affirmation, two of the three ways he liked to be loved.

Lowering to his chest, you continued your tour of his torso with your mouth, kissing every bit of skin you could while leaving the occasional mark.

“I love your pecs,” you said before licking at his nipple and getting a groan in return. Sucking on it, had his hands struggling in the restraints and his hips bucking. Switching sides, you went through the same motions while his sounds got louder, hearing how much he was enjoying what you were doing.

“Please,” he gasped.

Letting go of his hard bud, your head lifted. “Please, what?” you asked.

His mouth wasn’t closed all the way, panting, his eyes darkened.

“Touch me,” he raggedly answered.

“Not yet.” Quickly, you pecked him on the lips, and he whined. “You’re doing so good for me,” you praised. “I know you can take more, baby. Now, where was I? Oh, yes.”

Scooting back, you leaned down to kiss all over his stomach, deliberately avoiding his dick.

“I love your tummy,” you murmured against him.

The whine he let out was pitiful and thrilled you, the puddle of precum in the hair below his navel getting bigger.

Your cunt was throbbing in tune with your heartbeat as you moved further back to be at the perfect distance away to bend down and trail a streak of kisses and bites along his inner right thigh, leaving a mark near the joint. “I love your thighs,” you said. His eyes were glazed over and watching your every move while unbidden moans left his lips, your head going to his other thigh to give it the same treatment.

His dick was straining, the tip an angry red, it jerking when your hot breath ghosted over it.

“Cielito, baby, please,” he practically pleaded.

“Are you needy, Javi?” you asked, kissing above his belly button.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, baby, you can have anything you want.”

His cock was like iron encased in velvet and hot to the touch when you took him in hand. Javi hissed, his mouth falling open as you pressed open-mouth kisses up his shaft.

“Now, this?” His attention was on you while you slowly jerked him. “You know how much I love this gorgeous dick.”

When your lips wrapped around the head and you swirled your tongue against all the sensitive spots, his eyes closed, and he groaned.

Coming off of him, you spat in your palm and started stroking him, your hand gliding effortlessly, twisting it on the upstroke, the other fondling his balls, your face going lower to lightly lick at the thin skin of his sack.

His long, low moan went straight to your pussy.

Licking back up his cock, his eyes were on yours as you gathered spit on your tongue and let it drip onto the tip of him before taking him into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks, humming around him. You welcomed the weight of him on your tongue, bobbing your head while sucking him like a lollipop, your hand continuing to work what wouldn’t fit in your mouth—rough sounds were coming from his throat, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth open, and gaze so dark hardly any brown remained.

Taking him further and further into your mouth and tonguing the underside of his shaft, it got until he was nudging the back of your throat, and you didn’t go any further. You were moaning, your head moving up and down, keeping your eyes on his, building up the anticipation for what he knew was coming and the thing that would push him over the edge.

This was something that had taken a lot of practice, and Javi wasn’t a small guy; deepthroating him was actual deepthroating with how big he was—after getting a tiny bit too drunk one night on some tequila his tía Lupe gave you, the topic of how he was the most well-endowed man you’ve ever been with came up, and he was so smug about it, it took very little convincing for him to let you measure his hard very close to eight-inch dick.

Swallowing around him, he slid smoothly into the tight space of your throat, Javi loudly moaning your name, taking him so deep, your nose was pressing into the coarse hairs at the base of his cock, smelling your eucalyptus spearmint stress relief body wash he used in the shower before you got into bed.

Breathing through your nose, tears were leaking out of the corners of your eyes, loving how he felt inside you.

“Te amo (I love you),” his strained voice said. “Te amo más que a nada (I love you more than anything).”

This man and being so loving during sex—he was perfect.

Gulping made his thighs and stomach tense, and a strangled moan left his lips, his dick jerking.

You knew he was getting close, so you did it again, contracting your throat around him, trying to get him there.

“Rábano (Radish)!” he exclaimed, and immediately, you were pulling off of him, ignoring the drool on your chin and your wet cheeks.

It had you worried something was wrong.

Your voice was hoarse when you asked, “Are you okay?”

His eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling hard while he panted.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

“Was it too much?”

“No.”

“Just didn’t want to come?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna cuddle while you calm down?”

“Please,” he answered.

Smiling, you crawled up his body, straddling his hips to sit in his lap, quickly untying his hands, Javi immediately hugging you against him. His skin was sticky with sweat, and you didn’t care, tucking your head under his chin, lying against him.

“How are you feeling, babe?” you quietly asked.

“Good,” he answered, kissing your hair.

“Head still messed up?”

“Mi amor (My love), the only thing on my mind right now is eating your pretty little pussy and then fucking my come deep inside it.”

His words made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

“Well, that’s good the horny has taken over.”

He chuckled, feeling it vibrate in his chest below you, him squeezing you tighter.

“It has. How sore are you from yesterday?”

The day before, you had asked him to fuck you hard enough, you’d feel it today, and you definitely were dealing with a bit of an ache, now that you were thinking about it.

“Not like I need to ice my vagina sore but achy—honestly, I hadn’t even noticed it with all the shit that happened today, but now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m feeling it.”

“I’ll get you off with my mouth and fingers and use lube when I fuck you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Are you now?”

“Yeah.” There was doubt in his voice when he continued, “Unless you don’t want that…”

“Javier, my future husband and love of my life, we’re fucking—your plan sounds great. A deal’s a deal, my body is yours to do with whatever you want, mi cuerpo es tu cuerpo (my body is your body).”

“Anything…?” He sounded hopeful, and you knew exactly what he meant.

“Nice try, but unfortunately, it’s a no on anal today.” You felt him deflate under you. “I think I can probably make it happen tomorrow.” He perked right back up, a surprised noise leaving you, when suddenly you found yourself on your back, having been rolled with him now on top of you—his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his hard cock digging into your belly.

His smiling face was hovering over yours, his hair a mess atop his head, sticking up at odd angles.

“I can fuck your ass tomorrow?” he asked, clearly excited.

You snorted, ghosting your fingertips over his bare back to make him shiver. “It’s adorable how every time I agree to anal, you act like it’s the first time I’ve said you can, when in fact, you’ve gotten to do it like four times—“

“Five,” he interrupted, “six if you let me tomorrow. Can I?”

With what he went through today, he deserved a nice treat, and frankly, you quite enjoyed it.

“Yes, Javi. Mi culo es tu culo (my ass is your ass).”

“Sí, así es (Yes, it is).” His lips crashed into yours. “Tu culo es mío (Your ass is mine),” he growled, licking into your mouth and stealing your breath.

His tongue slid against yours in practiced strokes, your fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough that your nails left half-moon imprints, arousal burning brightly in your belly. He had to rock his hips for friction to ease his achingly hard dick, pressing it into the softness of your stomach.

The day’s events were insane, to say the least—nowhere on your daily bingo card did you have ‘Javi’s Villainous Ex-Co-worker Attempting to Break You Up’ or ‘Assisting in a Surgery to Save a Patient's Life,’ the second definitely being more plausible to randomly happen than the first, though.

It killed you how distressed your future husband was over Stechner telling you about some of what he did in Colombia. Did you not tell him enough you’d still love him after learning about that part of his life? Were you not reassuring enough? Did he not believe you? It was shocking to hear all he’d done and gone through, and some of it was incredibly fucked up; Like you told him, it wasn’t your place to judge his past. To you, he had paid for his sins in full, and there was no reason for him to dwell on them any longer. You just hoped after today, it would get through to him that you weren’t going anywhere and loved everything about him. Everything, even his flaws.

His lips broke away from yours to kiss your chin, gasping at his teeth nipping at it. A wet trail of kisses went along your jaw, his breath tickling your ear as he rasped into it, “I love you so fucking much.” Goosebumps erupted all over your skin. “You’re perfect—a goddamn goddess amongst men, and I’m gonna give you the fucking worship you deserve, mi reina (my queen).”

Pulling on his hair, you made him look at you, his eyes hooded, smirking under his perfectly trimmed mustache. “God, I love you, but right now isn’t about me; it’s about you.”

“And this is what I want to do.”

Frowning, you replied, “Fine,” and let go of his hair.

“Thank you.”

And thus, he began a journey of your flesh with the plush of his lips, starting with your face. The kisses were gentle, reverent, interspersing them with whispers of ‘te amo (I love you),’ blazing a trail of fire under your skin as he made his way down your body—your jaw to your neck to your chest and breasts, peppering kisses all over your tummy.

This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, nor would it be the last. Still, the way his mouth caressed each of your imperfections—your insecurities, and told them he loved them had your throat going tight and tears brimming your eyes that he truly cherished every part of you. He didn’t care if your stomach wasn’t flat or if there were stretch marks, scars, or cellulite on your ass and thighs; to him, you were beautiful—all of you was beautiful, and he’d make damn sure you knew it.

Down he went, kissing and speaking his love as he moved lower until he was lying between your legs. Lips pressed to each of your hip bones, his big hands grabbing just behind your knees, lifting one leg for him to kiss a wet streak along your inner thigh, his murmured words hot against your skin. The tickle of his mustache caused you to wiggle a little, your body lit up, and pussy weeping with need for him, wanting him to touch you.

The leg was lowered, his face a hair's breadth away from where you were throbbing, so close you could feel his breath and him inhaling deeply. Humming appreciatively in the back of his throat, you sat up, his eyes meeting yours.

“Now this,” his words were a deep rasp. “You know how much I love this pretty fucking pussy. I’ve never had any better—it owns me.”

“It’s yours, Javi. It’s all yours.”

A crooked smile appeared on his face.

“Yeah, it is mine, and my dick is yours.”

“Touch me.”

“Not yet, mi amor (my love),” he replied and placed a chaste kiss on your mons. Your other leg was lifted, and he gave it the same attention as the other, making you fall back onto the bed in a frustrated groan, your cunt feeling so achingly empty.

“Javi,” you whined his name. “Please, eat me out.”

“Are you needy, baby?” he asked, kissing close to your knee.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ve got you, Cielito.”

Scooting closer, he slipped your legs over his broad shoulders, one comforting hand on your belly, the other hand at the apex of your thighs where he used his thumb and forefinger to open the glossy lips of your sex—the need you had for him grew more intense wanting him to ease the ache in your core.

“So fucking pretty,” he purred, his breath fanning over the wet folds of your pussy.

It made you moan when wet, hot spit dropped onto your clit, feeling the saliva slowly dripping down toward your entrance and being intercepted by the flat of Javi’s tongue sliding up the length of you, sending a jolt through your center.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watched his face between your thighs—eyes closed, hair a mess of chocolate waves. His groans vibrated against your sensitive skin as he lapped at you, licking up every bit of your arousal he could get in hot stripes. Heat was beginning to build in the base of your spine, and when his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and he sucked, you moaned his name, writhing under him from the shock of pleasure.

“Oh, god,” you gasped. “It’s so good, Javi. It feels so good.”

His eyes opened, all heavy-lidded, his pupils blown wide with lust while he watched himself make a mess of you, not even a tiny bit ashamed you were mewling.

You were so close when one thick finger slid inside you with hardly any resistance, savoring the slight stretch when he pushed in a second beside it. This man was an expert at making you come and knew your body probably better than you did. His hot mouth focused on your clit, pulling out all the stops by flicking it with his tongue, and sucking, while his digits worked in and out of you before he was crooking them up to slide along—

“Right there!” you moaned, him pressing into the spot that had every nerve in your body lighting up, the knot in your belly tightening. “Fuck, Javi! You’re gonna make me come!”

That just spurred him on, and it was all so much—the adoration evident in his dark eyes, watching as he took you apart; his mouth focusing on your sensitive clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you—all of your weight went onto one elbow to hold his hand on your stomach, needing him to ground you, and make sure you didn’t float away as he sent you higher and higher.

He had you moaning incoherently, and it wasn’t long before the coil snapped, and you came with a cry of his name, blinding pleasure exploding out from your core.

“Good girl,” he groaned into your pussy. “My good fucking girl.”

His tongue licked up your release, greedily pressing it inside your drenched hole to drink it from the source. Falling back on the mattress, your chest was heaving, eyes closed, and your boyfriend slowed down to work you through your high.

One last kiss was placed on your swollen clit, before he got out from under your legs and crawled up your body, the tip of his hard cock drooling precum onto your skin as it pressed into you.

The air shifted, and you knew his face was over yours, him staying like that for some seconds.

“Why are you staring at me?” you mumbled.

“Because you’re beautiful,” he answered quietly.

You smiled. “Such a fucking flirt.”

“Just telling the truth.”

“Uh-huh, the truth that’s gonna get you laid.”

“I didn’t say it so I’d get laid.” The frown was evident in his tone, and it made you open one eye to see his mustache, and the bottom half of his face were covered in your juices, and just as you thought, his reddened lips were turned down.

“Oh, babe,” you started, opening both eyes as you reached up to caress his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know I’m terrible at accepting compliments.”

A loud sigh left him, his eyes darting away.

“Yeah, your low self-esteem—”

“Absolutely abysmal self-esteem,” you corrected.

“I know. I just wish you could see how I see you so you knew I mean what I say.”

“I know you’re telling the truth,” you replied. “We don’t lie to each other.”

“We don’t.”

“Then that’s settled. Now let’s get back to the horny because your dick has absolutely got to be aching, my guy.”

His gaze met yours. “Do you wanna come again? I’m not gonna last.”

“One was more than enough. As I said earlier, mi cuerpo es tu cuerpo (my body is your body). Use it however you want to make yourself feel good.”

“Thank you,” he said, his mouth hotly descending to claim yours, using the moan you made at tasting yourself to slip his tongue inside.

It was true you were still sore from the night before, but with him making you orgasm, your cunt was nice and wet, and the muscles were relaxed to make taking him easier.

His hips were grinding into you, the kissing making heat blossom in your belly and sizzle along your spine that could build into another climax if you let it. One moment, his lips were on yours, and the next, they weren’t, him suddenly sitting up with a groan on his knees.

“Need you on your front, mi amor (my love),” he said, tapping your hip. The bed jostled as he moved over you toward the bedside table.

“Damn, doggy two nights in a row?” you asked, flipping onto your stomach. “You really want me sore enough I will have to ice my pussy.”

“Not doggy,” he replied, hearing the drawer slide open and close. “Keep your legs together.”

Closing your legs and keeping them straight, Javi made his way back over, straddling them. Your arms were on either side of your head that was turned to the side, resting comfortably on the mattress. He bent over, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and another at the base of your neck, asking softly, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answered. “Stick it in.” To end the sentence, you wiggled your ass.

“You’re so fucking impatient,” he chuckled, getting back up on his knees. The sound of the cap popping open told you he was using the lube, the bottle getting tossed onto the bed when he was done.

“One of us has to be.”

A sharp smack landed on your ass, making you gasp, before he shuffled forward, using one hand on the mattress to hold himself up, the other positioning his cock at your entrance.

“I was gonna be gentle…” Was all the warning he gave before burying himself inside you in one smooth thrust.

A strangled gasp left you at the sudden fullness, relishing the burn, your fingers clawing at the sheet under you for something to hold onto. With your legs closed, you were tighter, and Javi felt bigger—stealing your breath bigger, oh-my-god-how-did-he-fit-that-thing-inside-me bigger, I'm-definitely-gonna-have-to-ice-my-pussy bigger.

You had to admit, the stretch was pretty great.

“Jesus Christ,” he gritted through his teeth, his hips bumping into the plush of your ass. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

His large palms were now on your backside, smoothing over your skin.

“You’re so fucking big,” you breathily replied.

He pulled halfway out and slowly pushed back in with a groan, your mouth falling open and feeling thankful for the lube making him move so easily. His hard length was pressing into all of those spots that made your toes curl, feeling every ridge and vein as he slid it halfway out and rocked it back in over and over, your brain erroring out at how good it felt.

“Shit,” he hissed, moving forward on his arms to kiss your back once more. “This is gonna be quick.”

He sped up his pace, his dick moving in and out of you with quick snaps of his hips, pushing in so far there was a possibility he was in your guts, filling you to your limit—it was hard to think; it was hard to breathe, with how full you felt.

A fire had started in your belly, getting hotter and hotter with each deep kiss of his cock to your womb, no longer feeling overwhelmed by the fullness, it now slowly making you lose your mind in ecstasy.

“I love you so fucking much,” he panted. “You’re so fucking perfect and beautiful and amazing. Fuck, you feel so good. Me encanta cómo te sientes, mi amor (I love how you feel, my love). Estás tan apretada y mojada (You’re so tight and wet).” Wet was an understatement; you were sopping, hearing an obscene squelch where you were joined. “Te sientes tan pinche rico (You feel so fucking good). Te amo, mi futura esposa (I love you, my future wife). No puedo esperar para casarme contigo (I can’t wait to marry you).”

He sat up, his hands firmly gripping your waist for leverage, fucking into you harder and faster, grunting with every thrust—your body was alight in pleasure, the angle making him rub against that one spot only he could find and rocketing you toward your own end; your skin was heated, coated in sweat, and you were so fuck drunk a stream of babbling was coming from your mouth in the tune of his name, letting him know how good he was fucking you, and telling him you loved him—a lot of you telling him you loved him, actually.

The room was filled with the rhythmic slap of his hips hitting against your ass, the jumble of words spilling from your lips, and the rougher grunts from Javi’s throat, the air smelling like sex.

The heated pressure inside you was growing rapidly, your body trembling.

“I love you, too,” he grunted. “Am I fucking you good, Cielito? Are you gonna come again? You’re so fucking wet, and I can feel you’re close, baby. You know why I can’t wait to marry you?”

Somehow, in your wrecked state, you could choke out a “Why?”

“Shit, I’m almost there, too.” He swallowed. “‘Cause I love you.” His rhythm was starting to get uneven. “And I’ll finally get to fuck a baby into you.”

A stab of red-hot pleasure hit your gut, your moan sounding punched from your lungs.

“You want that,” he continued. “You want me to get you pregnant.”

That fire in your belly was threatening to combust, so close to your climax that you could practically taste it.

“Yes!” you cried out.

He was going faster, his thick cock slickly sliding in and out of your tight heat; his name was a soft chant from your lips, saying it over and over like a prayer—proof he was a sex god, and you were his devoted devotee willingly giving him your entire being, body, and soul, as an offering.

He worshiped you, and you worshiped him.

“You’ll look so fucking beautiful pregnant with my baby,” his words were breathy. “My beautiful pregnant wife; fuck, come on, Cielito, give me another. I want my wife to come with me. Come on, mi esposa, I’m gonna fill you up—fuck my come so deep, you’ll be pregnant when I put a ring on your finger.”

That’s what got you, falling over the edge with a gasping moan. Euphoria overtook every cell in your body, rippling out from your center, spreading to your fingers and toes, feeling like you kept coming, and coming, and coming.

Javi went with you, pushing in all the way to the hilt, his cock thickening and jerking hard, shattering with a low, dirty groan, feeling the warm, wet pulse as his spend filled you—falling forward on his arms, his hips rolled to fuck it deeper, and he leaned down to softly kiss your shoulder, moving to lightly bite the edge of your ear, hearing the hiss slide through his teeth when the overstimulation hit and he stopped moving.

Wrung out was apt for how you felt. Your limbs were quivering uncontrollably, panting, your mind all hazy from the pleasure, and you felt boneless.

Something about the man you were going to marry was he enjoyed staying inside you after finishing, and he’d mastered the art of getting you both comfortable without pulling out. He rolled you both onto your sides, bringing your back flush to his front and wrapping his arms around you to hug you tightly against him, his nose buried in your hair, while your hand went back behind you to play with his.

It didn’t matter you were both sweaty and, let’s be honest, gross—a shower was absolutely needed—you loved basking in the post-coital bliss with the person you would spend the rest of your life with.

This also happened to be another occasion where time was tricky. It only felt like seconds passed, maybe a minute or two, as you lay there, luxuriating in each other, but a glance at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock on your bedside table told you ten minutes had passed.

“Yes,” you said, breaking the silence.

He nuzzled against your neck, pressing a kiss to it.

“Are you practicing again?”

“No, this yes is my pre-acceptance of your proposal.”

“I’ve been pre-approved to be your husband?” he asked amusedly.

“Um, yes, Javier, you have gone above and beyond to prove you are husband material. You’ve also been pre-approved to be the father of my future children.”

“Cielito?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m guessing you don’t remember,” he sighed.

“Remember what…?”

“I’m already engaged.”

“WHAT?!” you yelled, Javi making a pained sound when you aggressively got out of his arms and off his dick to turn around and sit up in bed, staring at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

The expression on his face could only be described as the realization of, ‘I fucked up.’ His throat bobbed as he gulped in fear at your reaction.

He propped his head up on his arm, meeting your gaze.

“I can explain—“ he tried.

Thoughts were racing through your brain, trying to make sense of this—that was the thing; it made zero sense. Nothing was adding up, not with how intertwined your lives had become and your plans for the future, plus all the shit you’d gone through together to get to this point.

“Oh, you better fucking explain, Javier,” you cut him off, anger making you seethe. “It’s not Lorraine since she’s married. Wait—“ Panic hit you. “Am I the other woman? Do you secretly have a fiancée in Colombia?”

There was no way whoever he was betrothed to was from here—you’d know.

His face scrunched in confusion.

“Other woman?” he asked. “Secret fiancée? What? It’s you. I’m engaged to you!”

Your eyebrows creased, checking your hands for a ring and not seeing one.

“Uh, no, we’re not…” You looked at him. “Our anniversary hasn’t happened yet, and I’m like 99.9% sure you haven’t proposed—I’d remember.”

“You proposed to me…” he said slowly.

That had you taken aback.

“Javi, babe, I am so fucking confused right now. Like, you’re the one—” You pointed at him then yourself. “—who has to propose to me, not in a stereotypical way, but because your last engagement wasn’t your choice, and you wanting to marry me, or anyone for that matter, needs to be your choice. Also, I cannot recall ever proposing to you?”

As you explained your reasoning why he was the one who had to do it, his eyes had gotten rounder, and he smiled softly.

“It was this afternoon before you fell asleep.”

There was still no recollection.

“Was I basically asleep?”

He sheepishly ducked his head. “Yeah…”

Pushing his shoulder, you replied in exasperation, “Oh my god, Javier, that doesn’t count! You know that doesn’t count!”

His smile got bigger, meeting your eyes. “I still said yes.”

“To a woman who was more asleep than awake and wasn’t in the right state of mind to even ask.”

“Yeah? Right now, if you asked again, my answer would be the same.”

Thinking about it briefly, you said, “Still doesn’t count unless there’s a ring, and I never proposed with a ring, so that null and voids it.”

His eyebrow went up. “In order for a proposal to be valid, a ring is required...?”

“Yep. Thems the rules. So, we’re not engaged.”

“Okay. We’re not engaged.”

Smiling, you replied. “Nope. Oh! Another stipulation.”

“Yes?”

“The proposal is only valid if there’s a ring and you’re the one doing the asking.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You’ll have to get my father’s blessing to marry me.”

His face paled.

“You’ve gotta be fucking joking…” he said.

“Of course, I’m joking! I don’t give a single fuck about his opinion. That was payback for freaking me out.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathed. “Come here.” He beckoned you with the hand, not holding himself up.

Getting closer, you laid down next to him, his arm pulling you closer to him so you were looking up at his face. He was gazing adoringly into your eyes with a smile, his fingers stroking your cheek.

The silence was comfortable, dancing your fingertips along his naked side.

“Thank you for not leaving me,” he finally spoke softly.

“Never even crossed my mind.”

“Thank you for loving me.”

“Always.”

“Thank you for wanting to be my wife.”

“Thank you for wanting to be my husband. Really, it’s an honor. I’ll be the woman who bagged Javier Peña.”

He huffed out a breath. “Yes, you will. Thank you for wanting to have kids with me.”

“Oh, that’s easy. They’re gonna be cute, and you’ll be an amazing dad.”

His eyes were a little shinier.

“I’m happy you think that.”

“I know that—our bovine children are treated like royalty. You’re gonna spoil the fuck out of our biological babies, and they’ll love you a lot.”

“I hope so.”

“They will.”

Lowering his head, he kissed you with so much passion it made your breath catch in your throat, and your heart skip a beat.

“Cielito?” he murmured into your lips.

“Yes, Javi?”

“Can we practice?”

His question made you smile.

“You want to practice making a baby again?” you asked, knowing that wasn’t what he meant.

“Fucking smartass,” he growled, tickling your ribs, making you laugh while you tried to wiggle away.

Your mouths had broken apart. “Okay, okay, I give,” you panted. Immediately, he stopped his tickle assault. “We can practice.”

He gave you a big, dimpled smile, quickly kissing you.

“Spanish or English?” he asked.

“Dealer’s choice.”

His face went serious. “No, when you imagine me asking, is it in Spanish or English?”

“Uh, Spanish?”

“Okay.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” you quickly added. “Just do what feels right.”

“It needs to be perfect. Which is why we’re gonna practice,” he said, winking.

“Uh huh, we’re practicing, and it’s not an excuse for you to ask the question that won’t leave you alone and has made you regret waiting... Nope, you’re not exploiting a convoluted loophole at all...”

“Yeah, practice. Okay.” He cleared his throat, his big hand cradling your face, his chocolate brown eyes gazing lovingly into yours. “Mi Cielito,” he started, “eres el amor de mi vida, mi media naranja y quiero pasar el resto de mi vida contigo (My Cielito, you are the love of my life, my soulmate, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you). Quiero compartir cada instante de mi vida contigo en las buenas tiempos y en las malas porque somos más fuertes juntos y podemos superar cualquier cosa (I want to share my life with you in good times and bad because we are stronger together and we can overcome anything).” There was no way to stop the tears from forming in your eyes, blurring your vision, getting choked up at what he was saying. “Cuando imagino mi futuro, te veo conmigo, en la casa que construimos, rodeado de nuestros hijos y quiero hacer que eso sea una realidad (When I imagine my future, I see you with me, in the house we built, surrounded by our children, and I want to make that a reality).” He had you crying now, unable to keep the wetness at bay, your cheeks hurting from smiling so big. “Quiero hacer realidad mi sueño y convertirme en tu esposo (I want to make my dream come true and become your husband). Mi Cielito, mi amor, mi vida, ¿me hariás el hombre más feliz del mundo, te casarías conmigo (My Cielito, my love, my life, you’d make me the happiest man in the world, will you marry me)?”

Nodding your head, laughing through your tears, you answered, “Sí, sí, un millón de veces sí (Yes, yes, a million times yes)!”

His mouth came crashing down to happily claim yours, both of you smiling as you kissed, your hands ending up in the hair at the back of his head.

“How was it?” he asked between kisses, his palm sliding up and down your belly.

“Perfect.”

“The real thing will be better.”

“Wait, Javi.”

Immediately, his lips were off of yours, and he looked at you in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know you’re still figuring out your plan, and I’m going to love whatever it is, but, um, it’ll need to be done someplace, maybe secluded?”

“I know you’d hate the attention, so I’m gonna do something intimate.”

It relieved you to hear that.

“This is why you get your dick sucked so often.” He chuckled, smiling. “You’re perfect. It wasn’t just because of that…”

“Okay… What’s the other reason?”

“Apparently, proposals make me super horny, and I’ll want your dick.”

“Somewhere secluded.” He nodded. “Whatever my wife wants, she gets.”

Smiling, you corrected, “Future wife.”

“Still, my wife.”

He was so stubborn he made your eyes roll.

“And what will you call me when we’re married?”

“My wife, and every. Fucking. Person, in this town and anyone else aware of me will know I am your husband.”

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387 notes · View notes

bahbzxxx · 10 months

Text

Sick! Venti X Traveler!Reader (SFW)

(In which his sickness was caused by getting his gnosis taken cause Huh sis that hurt even watching. But HAH he’s getting ✨better✨ while S*gnora is a pile of ashes lolsies)

There’s only one set of eyes on your mind as you race through the serenitea pot that’s much too big for your liking. If you were focused on your environment, Everything everywhere would make you want to explode into a pile of stardust here and now. Only the thought of not finding him would make you want to do that.

You approach the guestroom. Venti has been staying with you for a little while, recuperating. He will do it once in a while… when he needs a place to hide because the sickness is too hard to cope with alone. Sometimes, his stays are very long…and they seem to get a little longer, every time. He insists that it’s because he enjoys being with you, and he’s really recovering, but by not. But you know He will never feel the same… since…

No…NO.

You push the ice from your mind and how it still feels like frost blooms along your skin, only to penetrate it. It’s sharp.

You can only imagine how sharp it was for him…

With you just…there…doing nothing…

You knock on the side of the door, which is slightly ajar.

You hear a gentle hum, as well as footsteps and slight floorboard creaks from an owner too beautiful and divine for any land in the sea of stars you crossed.

Venti’s viridescent gaze envelops you in a fuzzy warm cloud as he opens the door. He is sleepily rubbing his eyes with his eyebrows furrowed. His expression softens as he sees you…and he takes both your hands in his, and he takes you inside. He can sense your despair…so he closes the door behind him with a gentle pat.

You see that he has no corset on and wears flowy pants that are a touch wrinkled. There are light sleep lines on his face and peaking out of his sleeves…the tell tale signs that he had just been in a deep nap.

“Hmm… you’re done early today…hmm…got any stories for me?”

His voice is so husky…and you can hear his exhaustion.

He holds his hands out to you with a soft smile, sensing you could really use an ear.

The hug you give the archon is almost enough to crush his own lungs.

“Hmph~ oof!”

his unbuttoned shirt is now covered in your tears as you cry into his chest, squeezing into his soft waist as if it is your life-line.

“Mmmm? Mmm…”

His heart breaks when he realizes you’re crying. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing deep circles in your back and nuzzling the top of your head.

He lets out a large sigh, and it feels as if his body is deflating like an anemo slime.

“Windblume…oh, my sweet little Windblume…” he whispers softly into your hair, leaving kisses in between.

He knows why you’re being like this…and truly, he does understand, as much as he’d prefer if you weren’t worrying so much.

“I know. I know…but I’m okay. She’s all gone…shes not gonna hurt us anymore…she’s not gonna hurt you, hurt…hurt me…”

He feels you squeeze him tighter, and he hears your little hiccups. You’re crying harder now…

“Windblume… I’m fine…I’ll be fine…I’m recovering, mein liebling, I promise you…bit by bit…”

He keeps rubbing your back, taking deep, steady breaths. He continues whispering sweet comforts as he holds you for a while, rocking you back and forth as he leans his body against the wall.

After a while of standing, Venti feels a bit weak…he may have recovered a lot, but he still needs a bit more time.

“Come with me, love…”

Gently, he leads you to the fluffy chair he begged you for a while ago from the Cats Tail in the corner. He plops down with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and leaning back.

“Ahhh…”

…

The bard opens his eyes, a bit upset that you haven’t joined him yet. He finds you standing there hesitantly, shyly watching over him while your eyes still sparkle with tears.

“Liebling…” He beckons, chuckling to lighten both your moods a little.

He reaches for your arm, and gently pulls you into his lap. He feels your hesitation, knowing that you’re scared even sitting in his lap could make things worse for him. He reassures you that this is oh so far from the truth.

“Uh-uh, no no no…I want you here with me…It’s okay…you make me feel better…”

He takes you in his arms once more, making sure you’re cozy in his lap.

“There we go…all comfy and cozy.”

He kisses your cheeks and your eyelids, as if he’s kissing your tears away.

You can tell he’s still lethargic based on the weight of his kisses…

“Now it’s my turn to suffocate you, hehe…”

He squeezes you to him, letting your head rest on his heart. It beats so steadily and slowly, like a gentle bass drum.

You sit like this for a while, You staring up at him, his chest he offers as your pillow as he takes his time kissing all over your face.

Naturally, despite all the worry you had, and still have, his viridescent gaze is so calming and soothing that you feel yourself growing sleepier and sleepier, much to his satisfaction. But…he sees that you’re still trying to fight it off, even when you’re safe in his arms and you can sleep. All this worrying about him… it made him sad, knowing that you probably were getting much less sleep than he was…

“My little warrior…you’ve been so worried about me…you’ve been so exhausted…you don’t need to hide that from me…” He sighs, moving the hair out of your face that just keeps coming back and hiding your precious eyes from him.

“…you know…I’m not quite used to someone being so concerned for my well-being…you remember that?”

You nod, and he purses his lips.

“I-I know…I know I worry you…” he continues softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“And as much as I want to give you a little bop on the head and tell you to stop that…”

He gives you a bop on the nose, hoping he can get you to giggle for him. Maybe just a crack of a smile even.

“That means…I’d have to stop getting worried with your adventures…I-I know, my Windblume…it may seem like you’ve seen just about everything…can do anything…but there’s always a part of me that’s just terrified…so scared you won’t come back to me…”

He tips your chin back up to him.

“But…you always manage to find a way back… Back to me…don’t you?” He smiles, bringing his nose closer to yours.

“I’ll even bet that you could be cursed by an evil sorceress on your travels, doomed to be an insect forever…”

Your eyes widen. You’d seen much worse, but nobody had done that…

“But…then I’d find a certain pretty little butterfly on my nose as I wake up from an afternoon nap…somehow, somewhere…”

You raise an eyebrow. You suppose you’re the pretty little butterfly in question…

He chuckles deeply, his chest vibrating against you.

“In other words…no matter how much I worry about you…somehow, even if it’s through a single thread of hope…I know that you’ll end up okay…right? Somehow…I really don’t know yet. You still truly amaze me…”

You giggle at the expression on his face.

“And…do I amaze you?”

You nod, a cute little blush on your face.

“Hmm…ok, then…let me amaze you with how, no matter how much you keep worrying about little old me…I’ll always be with you…and I’ll always find my way back to you…even if it’s just a tiny gust of wind…know that it’s me…do you understand, Liebling?”

You just smile, imagining to yourself how that would work. The bard takes that as a yes.

“Besides…you and I both know I’ve seen the rear end of much worse than this…and maybe…just maybe…I’m a little stronger than I’m given credit for…”

There’s a bit of bitterness tinged in his soft expression and tone…but it’s definitely not directed at you. That person is a pile of ashes now.

“Hmm.” He clears his throat. “So…”

He leans in to whisper into your ear. His tone lowers at least an octave.

“Trust me.”

It’s not a question. It’s not a request.

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes enveloping yours. Your lips are almost touching, and you feel his breath on yours.

“Trust. Me…”

He closes the fragment of space between your lips. It starts out soft and sweet, but his kiss becomes heavier as he puts one arm around the small of your waist to keep your fellow sleepy self from slipping, and the other on your cheek.

He keeps kissing you, breathing the same mantra into you every time your lips part- “Trust me.”

You slip your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

“I love you…I love you so much, mein liebling…I love you in a way that even a poet as myself couldn’t describe without making an utter fool of himself…”

His cheeks, already rosy, grow redder and redder and hotter everytime your lips touch and twist. You get so lost in this lush little wonderland that you feel you’re going to fall, even in his hold. The sensation startles you, and you panic. You gasp, clinging onto the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a whimpery and whiny groan.

“Oh…perhaps this isn’t quite the best idea, is it?”

He sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face.

You nod bashfully, an apology forming on your tongue. You slowly begin sliding off his lap, but his grip on your waist tightens.

“I had wanted to try and get out of bed today…maybe be useful and show you some of the poetry I had penned…but maybe…just maybe…”

There’s a gleam in his eye. It’s that gleam.

“Hmm…yep. Not today. Back to bed!”

You find yourself slung over his shoulder as he makes way back to the bed. Before you can scold him for obvious reasons, he’s already tossed you onto the bed, and the mattress is springing underneath his weight as he climbs onto the bed himself, looming on top of you.

He laughs as he ensnares you underneath him, your arms crossed and shaking your head. Your face is priceless, and he’s sure the winds of the far flung past, present, and future will never, ever forget it.

He feels a bit dizzy now…to not even his own surprise, so he flops down beside you, making the mattress bounce even more.

“Ahhh…that’s more like it…”

He weaves an arm under your body and around you to pull you closer to him.

“Now…where were we…oh, yes…”

You lean in for another kiss. You’re left hanging for a bit, and you can hear the smirk he’s wearing.

You open your eyes with a pout.

“Oh…don’t be like that…besides…aren’t we forgetting something? Hmm?”

He brings his braid to your face and brushes it against your cheeks and makes it do a little dance on your nose. He bops you on the nose once he’s done with the little dance.

Of course you have to undo his braids. Of course you do.

“There’s my Windblume…”

(is that angsty enough)

172 notes · View notes

virizona · 9 months

Text

Rest and Reassurance

Pairing: Luis Serra x Reader (AFAB)

Warnings: None; all fluff. Potential spoilers for the game

Summary: After the events of Resident Evil 4, you, Leon, Ashley, and Luis escape to a safe house off the horrific island to rest and recuperate, awaiting extraction.

Word Count: 2,270

A/N: This has been sitting completed since like June, so time to post my first ever Luis Serra fic! Spanish is not my first language, but I am learning, so I'm open to any corrections on the Spanish sprinkled in here.

—

It was a long jet ski ride away from the plague-infested island. At least it and the cult were reduced to ashes now.

The mission you and Leon Kennedy were sent on should have been a simple fetch quest: recover the President’s daughter, Ashley Graham. But, of course, things always had to go sideways. The three of you ended up infected with Las Plagas, the mind-controlling, body-disfiguring parasite. Turns out, the leader of Los Illuminados, Osmund Saddler, planned to inject Ashley with the parasite all along as a way to get to the President.

It was a long and grueling mission between locating Ashley, finding a cure, and stopping Saddler (not to mention a run-in with Leon’s old Major, Jack Krauser). But, there was a silver lining to it all: you met Luis Serra Nevarro.

Luis was a charmer through and through. He was flirtatious from the very first moment you were introduced to each other. You thought his advances would be more distracting, but they were honestly a welcoming reprieve from the constant fight or flight moments. What sealed your trust in the Spaniard however, was he was the one who knew how to cure your Las Plagas problem. A former Umbrella researcher, Luis was tricked into working for Saddler after he fled his previous employer. Holding onto his belief that people can change, Luis brought you, Leon, and Ashley to his lab where he held the cure: a radiation procedure that targeted and eradicated the parasite growing within your bodies.

To say you owed the man your life would be an understatement. You glanced at his stubbled face from where he rested over your left shoulder, hair blowing in the wind as you zipped across the water. His arms held snugly around your waist as you drove after Leon and Ashley’s water craft. The rising sun brought a pleasant warmth to your face, as if the world was showing you there was hope on the horizon.

—

Disembarking from the jet skis, you followed Leon ashore. He was saying something about a safe house that Hunnigan located you could use, just until she could send in a helicopter for you all.

It was well hidden within a forest a few miles inland. The hike was worth it alone for the chance to take a hot shower and sleep in a clean bed. The safe house was sparse, but it held all the necessary amenities: a kitchen, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a tiny living space. Leon was quick to designate the bedrooms, one for you and Ashley to share and the other for him and Luis.

“Actually, Leon, I think I would feel better if you stayed in the room with me.” Ashley spoke up, sounding slightly embarrassed about her request. It wasn’t unreasonable though, the blonde man did protect and save her countless times in your efforts to escape the parasitic cult. It made sense she would feel safer sleeping with his presence in the room.

Leon opened his mouth to likely protest, but was cut off by Luis clapping his hands together once. “No problemo, mis amigos! Mi amor y yo can take the other room.” He flashed a grin that would have had you blushing if you hadn’t been solely focused on that much needed hot shower.

“You guys decide whatever, but I need a shower and then I’m going to sleep for at least 24 hours. Wake me when the chopper arrives.” You waved a dismissive hand as you made for one of the bathrooms. You caught the sound of a weary sigh from Leon as you left the front room.

—

The hot water beating on your back felt heavenly after trudging through cold, rainy weather during most of the mission. You tipped your face up to the steady spray, sighing in relief as the grime ran off your body, pooling on the shower floor and into the drain. Now that you were no longer running for your life, exhaustion hit like a freight train and you had to steady yourself with a hand on the slick, tiled wall. You jolted as a knock on the bathroom door interrupted your peace.

“Mi amor, estás bien?” It was only Luis, his thick accent muffled by the barrier. “You’ve been in there for quite a while.”

“I’m fine.” You called out wearily. “Just tired is all.”

There was a long pause and you thought he was satisfied with that answer, except you never heard his retreating footsteps. Then, he spoke again. “May I come in?” You waited a few beats, taken slightly aback by his question and unsure how to answer. Luis continued talking. “I found some clean clothes for you.” You were a bit baffled as to how there was clothing stocked in the place, but you decided not to question it too much.

Taking a deep breath, you relented to the Spaniard’s offer. “Come in.” You turned your back to the semi-opaque shower door as a precaution as Luis entered the room.

“Phew, you weren’t kidding about the hot shower!” He exclaimed as the steam and humidity hit him. His shoes clicked softly on the tile floor as he moved over to the bathroom sink, placing some folded clothes on the counter there. “I’ll leave them by the sink for you then get out of your hair.” You could practically hear the wry smile in his voice.

Suddenly, the thought of being alone again clutched your chest like a vice. Just as Luis was about to step out of the room, you found your voice. “Wait, could you… could you stay a bit longer?” You hoped you didn’t sound too pathetic, especially after everything you went through, just as much as you hoped it wasn’t too weird of a request. You chanced a glance over your shoulder, peering at him through the fogged shower door. It was hard to tell, but he looked genuinely concerned.

“Sí mi amor, I can stay.”

—

Luis sat on the bathroom floor with his back leaning against the shower wall. Most of the time he spent in companionable silence, which was rather unusual for him. Perhaps he was exhausted like you were. Still, it made you ask, “estás bien, Luis?”

“Mi amor, I will always be fine with you by my side.” There was that charm again. It made you chuckle as you finally turned off the shower.

Luis was immediately on his feet, towel in hand. You reached through the shower door, opening it just enough to take the towel from him. Murmuring your thanks, you briefly toweled most of the water off yourself before wrapping it around your torso, tucking the corner in just under your armpit. Stepping out, the tile floor was chilly on your feet. You suppressed a shiver as you came face to face with Luis.

He looked tired as you observed his face, though you couldn’t imagine you looked any better. Dark circles were forming under his eyes, his hair oily, and his skin grimy. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about any of that as you became trapped in his silvery stare. Hesitantly, Luis reached out a hand to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. Ever so slightly, you leaned into his touch.

“Tienes sueño?” He asked, and you gave a nod, eyes drooping as his hand continued to linger on the side of your face. “Why don’t you go get comfortable and I’ll join you after I’ve had a turn to shower, hm?” The thought of sharing a bed with the Spaniard wasn’t lost on you.

“Leon actually agreed to stay in Ashley’s room?” You asked with a breathy laugh in disbelief, picturing the special agent begrudgingly agreeing. It was also your way of getting around asking the obvious and hopefully saving yourself from any embarrassment.

“He took some convincing, funnily more from me than la señorita, but he came around to the idea.” Luis chuckled as well as he passed the folded clean clothes into your arms. “Now go, I won’t be long.” His hands were suddenly on your lower back, gently pushing you out into the hall and in the direction of the bedroom. You glanced over your shoulder to see him wink before shutting the bathroom door.

Face feeling hot, you shuffled down to the bedroom. Once inside, and with no more distractions for the moment, your exhaustion returned. It took all your effort, but you managed to change into the clothes Luis had found for you. They were simple: an oversized t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, likely for someone more of Leon’s size, but you were just glad to no longer be wearing your muddied, bloodied, sodden outfit from the mission.

You crawled under the sheets and blankets, leaving your towel on the floor, too tired to care. When you had gotten comfortable, hugging a pillow under your head, that was when a soft rap on the door snagged your attention. You rolled over just enough to look back to the doorway. “Just me, mi amor.”

Luis, back from his shower, was wearing the same gym shorts but he had forgoed a shirt. You rolled back over quickly enough, hiding your face against the pillow. There was the gentle sound of the door clicking shut and Luis’ footsteps as he made his way to the other side of the bed. He pulled up his end of the sheets, sliding into bed with a groan, the mattress dipping momentarily from his movement. “Mierda, this is nice.” He spoke with a sigh as he finally settled.

It felt surreal. After days of running ragged around the island, fighting people and monsters alike, it was strange to be vulnerable again. You looked across the space between you and Luis and up to the man’s face. His soaked hair framed his visage and he still held that look of exhaustion. His expression was soft, however, his eyes casting a warmth as he stared back.

“Almost too good to be true.” You whispered, fearing that this may all turn into a dream should you voice it any louder.

Luis gave his lopsided smile with an airy chuckle. “It’s like you read my mind.” He reached out to brush a strand of wet hair back from your face a second time. His voice dropped a pitch, almost matching the volume of your whisper. “Try to get some sleep, mi amor.”

You nodded and snuggled down further into your pillow. Just as your eyes were slipping closed, you were abruptly pulled against Luis’ chest into a strong embrace. You shot your arms out and wrapped them around his back, clinging to him as he buried his face in your hair and against your neck. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, willing yourself to not start shaking as fatigue and anxiety clashed behind your heart. Anxiety for everything you went through, anxiety for never feeling safe anymore, anxiety for the thought of almost losing Luis again.

The Spaniard in your arms shuddered as he seemed to hold in a sob and you only hugged him tighter, closer. “We’re okay.” You began in a murmur. “We’re okay… I got you and you got me.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to console yourself or Luis more.

“Sí mi amor, I’m not going anywhere. No te dejaré.” He appeared to relax little by little after each affirmation. You still clung to him, inhaling the scent of his shampooed hair and trying to ground yourself.

Eventually, you were able to doze off, wreathed by Luis’ light snores.

—

You bolted upright in bed, no longer ensnared in the man’s embrace. Sweat coated your forehead and hairline, practically dripping down the back of your neck. Breathing heavily and in a panic, you check over your hands and arms before bringing your palms up to your eyes. It was just a night terror you tried telling yourself, and likely the first of many. Your rapid movements must have awoken Luis for he stirred with a hand reaching out for you.

“Mi amor, qué ocurre?” His hand found purchase on your knee as he pulled himself up partly to sit with you.

Your hands remained pressed against your eyes as if you could push the horrid vision from your mind. “Bad dream.” You uttered, voice shaky. Gentle fingers grasped your wrists, lowering your hands from your face. You were met with Luis’ concerned, even stare. You thought he would press for more details, but he only waited for when you were ready to share. “It was um, it was Las Plagas… that thing was inside me again.” A sniffle escaped you as the adrenaline was finally wearing off.

“Oh, mi amor, I’m so sorry.” Luis crooned, coaxing you into a hug. “The parasite is gone, prometo. I made sure of it.” The hug shifted to you sitting in his lap, legs out to one side and his arms looped around your waist, hands clasped on your hip. He began to gently rock side to side, doing his best to be reassuring. “And, just think, if we’ve done it once before, we can do it again.”

You paled at the thought. “But I don’t want to do it again.”

“Lo siento, but you know what I mean, yes? You’re so capable, strong, and brave. Much braver than I.” That got a little snort out of you. “You can take on the world, mi amor.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “And I will be by your side the whole way.”

#resident evil 4 #re4 remake #luis serra x reader #luis serra #vizo writes

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ghostradiodylan · 3 months

Note

Do you have any headcanons for how the hacketteers would deal with being sick? Maybe how often they get sick, what type of illnesses they are prone to, etc….

Way behind on Quarry asks but I am home sick with some kind of crud right now so what better time to answer this one?!

Emma - Emma is a people person and always on the go, so she's exposed to a lot of germs. I feel like she'd be the one to get into juicing and making smoothies for immune health and the 'sexy' supplements like Moon Juice or whatever Gwyneth Paltrow is selling (but nobody’s sure if she really buys into them or if she’s just trying to get a sponsorship). Emma has a system for any kind of normal illness that doesn't completely knock her on her ass and that is to take a very hot bath with peppermint and eucalyptus bath salts and drink a hot toddy while she's in there. (Just the one, she doesn't want to drown!)

Jacob - This guy gets the dreaded Man Cold and is the sickest person who has ever lived. He doesn't get sick often because he's fairly health conscious, but he's absolutely pathetic and mopey about it when he does. He wants to be babied because his perfect male specimen of a body and extensive supplement regimen have betrayed him. He hates going to the doctor and puts it off until someone makes him go. Kaitlyn brings him soup and yells at him (affectionately) to stop being pathetic. He drinks a ton of Gatorade when he's sick (always Cool Blue flavor).

Kaitlyn - Look, Kaitlyn's Asian and her family was wearing masks during cold and flu season long before it was cool. She doesn't totally buy into the traditional Chinese medicine stuff but she does believe in the healing power of food that's spicy as fuck, especially if she's having sinus issues. She's also a fan of long, hot baths or showers, chicken soup with a ton of garlic, drinking a bunch of tea with lemon and ginger, the sauna at the gym, exercising even if she doesn't feel like it, hot yoga, and acupuncture. If that doesn't knock it out, she's not too stubborn to go to the doctor, people like that (who have insurance but don’t use it) drive her crazy (Jacob!).

Abi - If something is going around, Abi just knows she's going to get it. She’s a worrier and a bit of a catastrophizer when she does get sick. She's a hand sanitizer addict, she's got those cute sparkly holders from Bath & Body Works (but she uses the Halloween ones all year). She's good about letting herself take time to rest and get her strength back after an illness though. She likes to catch up on trash TV while she's recuperating. She also gets allergy shots because her environmental allergies are insane. She uses a neti pot or saline spray often to ward off sinus infections.

Ryan - Our stoic boy is stoic. Ryan takes all the necessary precautions to not get sick, he's kind of an obsessive hand-washer for sensory reasons anyway, but when he does, he follows doctors' recommendations to the letter and rarely complains. He will typically muddle through like normal if he's not got something contagious, but if he has to take time off work or school, he doesn't really talk about it or look to be cared for, just holes up in his room alone trying to not spread it around--he is very conscientious. Ryan gets the occasional migraine and that's one thing he can't really muddle through. He has to be in a quiet, dark room to recover, with an ice pack on his head, a caffeinated beverage, and a guided meditation podcast.

Dylan - People love to make our boy a damsel in distress because he's a cute gay string bean that bad things happen to, but Dylan is pretty tough in the game (like, unrealistically tough at times). I tend to consider his amputee arc as main canon, so given the assumption that he doesn't die of sepsis after surviving werewolves, he's got to have a pretty robust immune system and probably doesn't get sick that often. He does have that whole under-react/overreact thing going on though (the air freshener lol), so I imagine that when he does get sick, he either just carries on until he physically can't anymore (he'd wear a mask and get vaccinated and all that good stuff, he's a scientist after all, but he’s bad about making sure he gets rest) OR he starts Googling his symptoms and getting paranoid, convinced he has some rare incurable disease (he doesn't). He also doesn't really like to slow down and let people take care of him but when they really insist, he not-so-secretly loves the attention, from his mom, his boyfriend, his roommate/bestie, whoever.

Nick - Nick turns into a slimy wet sex pest whenever he gets sick. No, I’m kidding. I think it’d be funny/ironic/unfortunate if chef Nick had kind of a sensitive digestive system. He will eat anything, especially if Jacob is eating it. But, alas, Jacob has an iron stomach and our poor Nicholas does not. So he gets a lot of tummy troubles from doing things like eating 20 year old snacks or trying to go head to head with Jacob and Kaitlyn in a spicy ramen challenge. Nick gets sick a regular amount with stuff like head colds and is just kind of middle of the road as far as how he handles it. He does however have a habit of making up untrue facts about Australia that he tells his coworkers and campers when no one has the internet available to fact check him and one of them is that a steaming mug of hot pickle juice is a favorite folk remedy for colds there.

Max - he doesn’t get sick often but he is highly accident-prone. Like, so accident-prone that his family has started calling them ‘Maxidents’ when he has a major mishap. He routinely falls off ladders, gets attacked by migratory waterfowl, trips while trying to carry more groceries than he should into the apartment, etc. Max is luckily a very good patient because he has a lot of practice. He also has a lot of ice packs in the freezer at all times.

Laura - she gets onto Max about being careful, getting enough sleep, eating healthy, etc, but Laura is a do as I say, not as I do kinda gal. She does try to be healthy and active but she’s really busy (busier than ever post-canon because she thinks she can outrun trauma if she never slows down long enough to think about it). When Laura gets sick she gets Leslie Knope sick.

Max has to put her in bed and take care of her because she will not admit she needs it until she is practically on death’s door.

#the quarry #hacketteer headcanons #sick bunny brainrot #hello beautiful anon #thanks for the ask!#belated ask answers #emma mountebank #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #max brinly #nick furcillo #abigail blyg #laura kearney

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autisticlenaluthor · 8 months

Text

Control

takes place after music but before lena

Three days pass before Kara tells anyone about what happened at the park.

When she gets home, she slams her door so hard it crumbles right off the hinges, then locks herself in her closet with her favorite book.

She cries for nearly two hours– big, heavy tears that burn as they fall and clump up in her throat. She cries for Kal, who she didn’t mean to betray; cries because she never would’ve been so kind to a Luthor if she’d known who they were. Because she can’t believe she was so stupid– can’t believe she knew Lena’s last name this whole time but still managed to convince herself she wasn’t one of those Luthors. And then she cries because Lena really did seem like any other girl. No– she was even more interesting than the other girls Kara knows and maybe that’s what hurts so much.

She’d wanted to be her friend. Friends with a Luthor.

She hates herself for being so trusting. So naive.

But then she thinks about Kal (she always goes back to him) and how for years, Lex had been his right-hand man. And it’s like a switch goes off in Kara’s brain. If Lena could lure her in a day, it no longer seems so perplexing how her cousin could’ve stayed by Lex’s side for so long.

Knowing their mistake is shared makes things the tiniest bit easier.

It’s what gives Kara the courage to leave the closet after Eliza finishes putting the door back in its frame, and crawl back into bed. She eats dinner half under the covers and for the rest of the day, refuses to speak. No, she can’t speak– she can’t do anything, she’s too paralyzed with anger and exhaustion and every other emotion under the sun.

But at least she isn’t crying. So hey, it’s a start.

The next morning, Kara feels like she’s risen from the dead. Her limbs are heavy– her eyes raw and red. Dark bags hang below them, sunken in like hollowed-out bruises. When Kara tries to toast her Pop-Tarts with her heat vision, all she gets is a headache and a weird look from Alex for squinting and grunting down at the plate.

Eliza tells her she’s experiencing something called a solar flare. She’s burnt herself out and now her body needs time to recover before it can sustain its powers again. She says it’s like when a car runs out of gas or when humans hit a wall and need a few days to recuperate. Kara wants to be upset at the explanation but really, she isn’t sure it makes any sort of difference. Even if she had her powers, she’d be too tired to use them.

So Kara spends the rest of the day on her side of the room with all her lights off. She tries to read but none of the words stay in her head. Instead, she listens to the Fearless album on her iPod on a loop– not quite awake but not quite asleep. She daydreams about Krypton and the science guild and how the sunset looked from the giant window in her old bedroom. And then she cries some more.

By day three, Kara is bored and restless. If her powers had returned, she’d speed through the clouds until all her excess energy was dispersed. But they haven’t. So she has to settle for periodically flapping her hands and jumping around her room to get rid of the feeling that tells her she’s about to explode.

It isn’t until the middle of the afternoon, when Alex is at softball practice and the house is feeling uncharacteristically quiet, that Kara finally brings it up.

She finds Eliza on the sofa in the living room and sits beside her on the other end. She brings her legs up into her chest, awkwardly fiddling with the drawstring on her sweatpants as she tries to find the right words. It doesn’t take long for her to realize there are none. So Kara bites the bullet and comes right out with it.

“The girl I had to work with the other day…” she begins. “For the extra credit project… it was Lex Luthor’s sister.”

Eliza’s eyes widen and she sets her book down, turning her full attention to Kara.

“Oh my… did she– she didn’t do anything o- or say anything to you, did she?”

Kara shakes her head. Her voice is quiet. Withdrawn, almost.

“No. She was weirdly normal. She didn’t tell me who she was.”

“How did you figure it out?”

Kara shrugs. “Some girls from her school came up to us when we were cleaning. And they– they started saying all these things to her and none of it made sense. So I asked and… they told me.”

“Oh.”

Eliza exhales, frowning.

“That must’ve been really hard.”

“Yeah. I just… I can’t believe I didn’t know. I– I wanted to be her friend,” Kara says. Her hands start to shake as she speaks. Her throat feels too stiff– like it can’t properly wrap itself around her words. “I feel so gross. Like… dirty.”

“I bet,” Eliza responds, her voice soft. “I know how crazy the whiplash must be for you. But it’s not crazy you wanted to be her friend. You saw someone you liked and you wanted to get to know them. That doesn’t make you dirty.”

Kara shakes her head and looks down, pressing the pad of her thumb against her nailbed.

“Her brother tried to kill Kal. He’d want to kill me if he knew me. He– he doesn’t even know I exist and he hates me. And she’s his sister so she– she’d hate me too and she almost really did know me.”

She stops for a moment and clamps her mouth shut, hot tears prickling at her eyes. She thinks about Lena’s quiet, restrained laugh, and how different things would’ve been if she’d known. If neither of their identities had been a lie.

“I don’t want to see her again,” Kara says eventually. “I can’t– I can’t work with someone like her. Or like anyone in her family.”

Eliza sucks in a breath. She nods, slowly, taking a second to gather her thoughts.

“Kara… what Lex did… it was horrible. And I know I can’t imagine how scary it must’ve been for you to see him go through that. Especially after everything you’ve lost.”

My world. Kara wants to correct her. I lost my whole world.

“But Lena is only– what, fifteen, give or take? And I- I’m not saying you have to be friends with her or even like her. All of that is up to you. But she doesn’t have any control over what her family does. Lex is a grown man who can take the fall on his own. But Lena– she’s still a kid… just like you.”

“She’s not like me,” Kara whispers. “She’s nothing like me.”

“Maybe she isn’t. But we don’t know her,” Eliza says. “Just like she doesn’t know you.”

#supercorptober2023 #supercorp fanfic #kara danvers #look at me making all my characters autisitc #high school au

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Text

Yandere Lost Boys (5/8)

Word count ; 4.3k

That was all it took. I grasped Dwayne tightly as the boys revved their engines. I heard Michael start the ignition, but they didn’t wait. I dreaded what would happen. If only there was a way to convince them from either eating him or turning him. I would take it in a heart beat. But I knew what they would ask of me.

As they shot down the wooden boards of the pier, I thought of Ruby.

I hoped she was okay.

However, they were taking a detour. Instead of continuing forward to reach the end of it. The guys let out hoots and hollers, suddenly turning and driving right off the stairs that led to the beach. I squealed and clutched Dwayne even closer, and my body bounced and vibrated violently and we flew onto the beach.

When I glanced back, I Saw that Michael had paused at the foot of the stairs. My mind was pleading for him to stop there, and yet, he sped down them anyway when we made momentary eye contact. My heart was stuck in my throat as they drove down the beach at top speed, sand flying everywhere in their wake.

Dwayne let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. I eased up knowing that he wasn’t in as terrible of a mood as before. Marko, who was driving adjacent to him, was letting out roaring cackles, too. David was silent at the front.

I let out a gasp and ducked my head when we drove right underneath the pier itself. It was dark and impossible to navigate. However, when we came up to the other side, the motorcycle leaped over a small ledge. We were entering a terrain I knew well, despite the fog. It was the drive right back to the cave.

I peered over my shoulder. Behind Paul’s motorcycle was Michael’s.

I could but pray that he wouldn’t be their next meal with how hateful their glares were.

The fog was beginning to be impenetrable. And David was hollering for him to keep up. Michael revved his engine further, lining up to the left of Dwayne and I. I sent him a smile, hoping they didn’t drive him off a cliff

And that’s when I saw it; the ground was coming to a screeching end. A scream threatened to release and I wanted to tell Michael, but I couldn’t. He was glaring into the fog.

“Come on, Michael!” David cheered.

And just like that, Michael swerved the motorcycle and toppled over to the ground, narrowly missing the dive into the ocean bellow. Tears almost fell, but Dwayne swerved, along with the rest of the boys. The waves were crashing underneath, and I was so petrified for Michael’s sake that Dwayne physically detached me from him so he could step off the motorcycle.

Michael had recuperated. It was then that I realized how pissed he was.

“What the hell are you doing, huh?” he boomed, dashing over to Dwayne and punching him right in the face.

I couldn’t help but release a scream. I knew that wasn’t the right move, and the other boys were closing in on him. When Dwayne recovered and I forced myself off the motorcycle, he turned back with a large grin on his face. Larger than anything I’d seen before.

“Just you! Come on!” Marko was hovering right behind him with a lazy, knowing smile.He was looking him up and down hungrily and there was something crazed in Paul’s eyes as he took a deep sniff in. “Just you.”

David suddenly spoke up, placing his hand on his shoulder from behind. “How far are you willing to go, Michael?”

The wind and lightning sped up tenfold. They were taunting him and I knew it. But he didn’t. He didn’t know what they were. He didn’t know what he had to do. Michael had to leave and never get found by them. Dwayne was smiling, but he was silent. I feared he would be the deadliest of the vampires if he had a reason to be. And Michael was currently that reason to be.

I didn’t have time to digest what was happening as I was hoisted off the ground by Marko, who lifted me off the ground bridal style. I almost laughed out of surprise, gripping his patterned shirt in my fists. David was leading him down to the cave, and the rest of us were following suit. I kicked my legs at Paul, who slapped in mock irritation. Marko just cawed at him teasingly.

The clambered into the cave, hooting and hollering in their boyish fashion. It seemed so innocent and friendly, and yet, there was nothing innocent nor friendly about them. They were predators catching their prey. The torches and candles were lit in anticipation of their arrival home.Marko finally let me drop to my feet, and my stomach churned.

At least Ruby wasn’t here again. I hoped she was safe at home waiting for me. I knew that she would hug me and comfort me the moment I saw her.

Michael was in awe as he observed the hideout. The moonlight shone done from a new hole in the ‘roof’ they must’ve made in the past few weeks. I wouldn’t know what they’ve been up to, though.

“Not bad, huh?” David crooned expectantly, pacing over to the mini fridge. “This was the hottest resort in Satan Carla about eighty-five years ago. It’s too bad they built it on a fault. In nineteen-oh-six, when the big one hit San Francisco, the ground opened up, and the place took a header right into the crack.”

So that’s why it had so much furniture and some sort of working electricity. I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been alive that long to witness the building’s decline.

Paul was wobbling on top of a stack rubble that was centered around a rusty and fallen chandelier. I noticed the amount of skulls buried inside. Paul smirked at me when he noticed my wary glances toward hi, hopping off. Michael had followed David deeper, completely fascinated by the scenery.

I felt an arm snake around my waist and I ended dup being pressed back against Dwayne’s broad chest. I was almost aggravated by the fact that he wasn’t cold to me anymore. I wanted to be human again. Maybe if I was, I would’ve been alright with sticking around them. But the options were eat or be eaten.

“So, now it’s our’s,” David concluded.

“So, check it out, Mikey,” Paul taunted.

I shivered. Dwayne forced me to follow suit as David beckoned us all to the well-lit corner with the couch. David withdrew from the fridge a bottle of blood. Oh, no. But, I supposed it was better than murdering the poor guy just for talking to me.

Michael, still intrigued by the new environment, fell into tow with David. When he motioned to the seat, Michael plopped down. Paul clogged the couch and all I wanted was some distance from Dwayne, but he wouldn’t let me separate. If anything, he held me closer, wrapping his other arm around me and placing his head on mine as we leaned against the wall.

“You’ll like it here, Michael,” David insisted fondly, patting his back.

I watched warily. David, instead of handing the bottle to Michael, tossed out to Dwayne, who then held it to me.

Just the smell of it made me salivate.

“Feeding time!” Marko shouted, emerging from an unknown corridor of the cave. “Come and get it, boys.”

Marko had a box of Chinese food, tossing the various men boxes. Dwayne held it, but otherwise did nothing. David, clearly taunting the man, held a box out to him. “Guests first.”

Michael shook his head, clearly worried and uncomfortable.

“You don’t like rice?” David prodded further. “Tell me, Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong? Cone on.”

Michael spared me a glance before reaching over and snatching up the box. My stomach churned with discontent and I felt Dwayne stiffen. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Marko hopped onto the couch beside Paul and they were watching the man hungrily.

Michael had a spoon and dug into the box. He didn’t second-guess and started chewing.

David, with a growing smirk, asked,” How are those maggots?”

Michael, baffled, stared at him for further explanation.

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots. How do they taste?”

Michael scrunched up incredulously before turning his gaze to the box’s insides. His face contorted into panic and he dropped the box, spitting from his mouth despite having swallowed already.

The men erupted into laughter. But not me. In fact, anger arose in my chest. “Just leave him alone, please!”

Michael seemed shocked as he stared at the spilt rice. It was rice. But whatever powers they had, they were using it to torment him. Michael stared at me, still not comprehending the deadliness of the situation he put himself in.

“Sorry about that,” David smoothly apologized. “No hard feelings, huh? Why don’t you try some noodles?”

He blinked, and I could tell the contents of the box wasn’t noodles. Everyone was howling in laughter, even Dwayne. It was enough for me to push myself away and hover beside Michael. I could feel Dwayne’s glare boring into me, but I didn’t particularly care.

“They’re worms.”

“What do you mean, ‘they’re worms’?”

David pulls date box back, playing with its contents. He pulled up some and plopped them right inside his mouth. Michael was about to advise him otherwise, but David shrugged it off completely. Michael must’ve felt as though he was going crazy. Ruby and I thought that too at the time.

“They’re just noodles, Michael.”

The man couldn’t help but snatch it up to check. His frowned largeness. They were just noodles. My question was, though, how the hell were they eating normal food without the need to vomit?

“That’s enough,” I pleaded.

Subconsciously, I twisted the bottle cap off and downed it. Nobody was paying attention to me. They were all more focused unmaking Michael’s life a living hell. However, as I took the last drop, and arm weaved around me and Dwayne took the bottle. He was still furious, and yet, he did the courteous thing.

“Marko,” David called.

The said man hopped up from the couch and leaned in front of him. David whispered something unintelligible into his ears and he marched right back over to the mini fridge. He withdrew another bottle. Just seeing it made me want it. And yet, I knew it wasn’t for me. It was for Michael.

Marko handed it to David, who took a quick swig, gaze glued to Michael. With a rising smirk, he leaned forward and handed it toward him. “Drink some of this, Michael. Be one of us.”

Michael seemed intrigued. I was frowning profusely, shaking his head. Michael only spared a glance, and that was enough to make him cautious. Regardless, he rose to his feet and snagged the bottle. He tipped it to examine the red liquid further.

Paul’s expression was wrought with anticipation. He was chanting under his breath. “Michael, Michael, Michael…”

I couldn’t help but hover behind him, already ourning what was to come. “Don’t. You don’t have to Michael.” They kept chanting.

“It’s blood.”

Michael snickered, quirking a brow haughtily. “Yeah, sure. Blood.”

He took a swig, and the room erupted in cheers. “Bravo!” David congratulated. All of them were ecstatic with how careless he had been. They hopped from their seats while I couldn’t help but slink back against the wall where Dwayne was.

Paul grabbed his arm and I could already see the drug was starting t kick in. “You’re one of us, bud.”

They started going absolutely nuts. I was brooding in a corner with Dwayne sitting silently beside me. Michael was spinning, occasionally going for another swig. The boys were chasing and running around excitedly. And then, not even a few minutes later, they were gone.

That left nothing but me and Dwayne.

I figured it was time to leave. Nobody cared enough to watch me and I needed to check up on Ruby. I rose to my feet and was about to leave.

Dwayne’s hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my place. I grit my teeth.

“Where are you going?” he grunted irritatedly.

“Home. I’m sick of this,” I shakily answered. “I need to see Ruby.”

“…Stay.”

“You have no business controlling me,” I grumbled in irritation. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”

A slight smirk rose to his face. “You think she might have resorted to murder.”

I frowned, falling silent. I continued to try and yank free, but all that did was make him chuckle. He rose to his feet, and there was an unknown emotion swirling in his dark orbs. I tried turning away, but he only yanked me back, grabbing my other wrist. He eld me close, our chests pushed up against one another. I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes. I could feel my cheeks redden. I hated that such a good-looking man was so evil. It made it hard to be a good person.

“I know she wouldn’t.”

“What she would or wouldn’t do means nothing when it comes to what she needs,” he insisted. “You are fine now. But how about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week? You will both be hungry, especially when I stop bringing blood for you —“

“You wouldn’t.”

His mouth twitched in amusement and he leaned his face closer. “What I would or wouldn’t do means nothing when it comes to what I need.”

A part of me melted at the notion but the other writhed in disgust. His grip was bone-breaking, and each time I tried to pull it away, it magically became stronger. I stayed put, but tilted my head back as I scowled. “You don’t even know me. You’re just a sadistic psychopath.”

“You’d be surprised how often you leave your windows unlocked.”

My blood ran cold, but I didn’t have enough strength to stop what was to come. He pressed his soft lips against mine, a fire running through it. His eyes were shut and I couldn’t help close mine. It was an internal struggle between what I desired and what I knew was right. And Dwayne was making it very difficult to be right.

I grit my teeth as he pulled away not even a minute later. His entire expression was replaced with a lovesick haze, and he let out a small breath. I couldn’t say anything. I was worried my own words would betray me if I did.

“Soon.”

“Soon what?”

“Michael will be your first meal. You couldn’t possibly think we’d let him live, did you?”

I gasped, tears threatening to fall. “But he’s done nothing wrong! Please, can’t you just leave him alone?”

“He’s tried to talk with you and that is enough.”

“This - this jealousy thing isn’t cute,” I seethed. “It’s patheticthat you’ve convinced your friends to torment him. Just because —“

“Oh, you think it was only my decision?” I paused in confusion. “The others were just as furious. David was the one to make the official decision.”

My mouth went dry. “But… why?”

“Because you’re one of us.”

“Michael is too, now.”

He tilted his head, a flash of hurt in his eyes. I was almost baffled by the tension in the room. He was so hungry to control me. All of them were. And yet, there was something genuine about him. Sometimes I wondered if their boyish innocence wasn’t completely feigned.

“We don’t want Michael. We want you.”

It seemed that what I said next finally got through to him.

“I don’t care.”

He released my hands, a fury in his eyes. And although he was looking at me, it didn’t seem to be aimed toward me. And, even with my newfound freedom, I didn’t distance myself from him. Instead, I placed my hands against his upper chest and cast my gaze away. I bit my lips.

Michael was physical perfection. I should be drawn to him instead. And yet, my crush on the vampire could not be repressed. My mind always tried to defend it. That he was good vampire. He fed us when maybe he wasn’t even allowed to. He was gentle.

But it was all lies. It was a masque to draw me into betraying my morals and friends and humanity.

“If you didn’t care, you never would’ve looked at me that way on the merry-go-round.”

I was taken aback by how resigned his voice was. Like he knew it for a fact to be true. I couldn’t tell if he was manipulative or truly delusional. Every time I knew for certain they were actively going against their human morale, they drew me back in with brief vulnerability.

I clutched his shirt. Ruby was my priority. And yet, I couldn’t help but place one final chaste kiss on his lips before stepping away. His mouth chased my own, but I wouldn’t let it continue any further. I needed distance. And I needed to forget about Michael and I need to continue my search for a cure.

I went to turn, but once again, Dwayne stopped me. “Wait.”

“What?” I questioned, not turning back to him.

“Let me drive you home.”

~~~

Two days had passed. I’d heard nothing from the boys and nothing about Michael. And Dwayne hadn’t been lying when he said our blood supply would come to a screeching halt. As much as I needed to find a cure, I couldn’t when I was so tempted to leap out the window and slaughter anyone on the sidewalk, even though I locked myself in my room on the second floor.

I could even smell my neighbors, and I fell asleep to the sound of their hearts beating in my ears.

Ruby was off much worse.

She was already unstable enough when we went to the pier all those days ago. But now, whenever we crossed each other’s paths in the bathroom or the living room, her eyes were red her expression was contorted, and she was eyeing me like a piece of meat.

It was wordlessly agreed that we smelled delicious. I wanted her almost as badly as she wanted me.

I kept the gun by my bed, though, in anticipation that she would soon lose it. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could endure it.

My manager, Max, was oddly understanding. Each day he called to check up on me and it was always during the night. It was as though he knew something. And even though my contract stated only one paid vacation day, he explained that he’d keep paying regardless until I recovered.

It was sweet of him, to say the least.

It was about eight. I could tell because it was completely dark outside. I rolled onto my side, shivers rolling down my spine as I smelled her. My best friend, who was in the room across from mine. I even went about stuffing towels at the bottom of the door, but it did nothing to quench my thirst.

It was an odd feeling. I was starving. And despite how weak I was, I felt just as strong. The blood lust was too much and I craved to satisfy it. And yet, I was strong enough to resist.

The only remaining question was how long I’d be able to wait it out.

I kept shutting my eyes. I could feel my expression contorting into one that wanted nothing but to attack. I knew I had to move somewhere else in the house. My mind immediately went to the living room. At least with the nonsensical drone of humans, I could cover up the iridescent beating of nearby hearts.

I forced myself up from the bed. My hair was a mess from sleeping all day. My teeth didn’t even require brushing anymore; if anything, they’d become whiter. I hadn’t been eating food and they constantly tried to sharpen in anticipation of meal time.

My body was shaking as I made my way to my bedroom door. I opened it quietly. I knew as well as Ruby that it was hard to control each other’s urges when we made noise. I heard her shuffle inside her room and muffled pants could be heard.

I was salivating just from the thought of sinking my teeth into something.

The moment I reached the couch, I dove for it. I leaned on my side and began flipping through television channels. I put on the evening news. I liked to think I was still a person of whom current events affected. I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged myself, during my mouth and nose in my pajama pants. It didn’t do much.

I focused on the man on the screen. Some photos of the most recent Santa Carla missing people were being displayed while background information was given. ‘Jannet Miller, seventeen, was spotted last at Santa Carla pier inside the video store. Camera footage shows her browsing through the horror section until choosing. After nine-twenty-two, she left. No other witnesses were confirmed…’

I knew it was one of the boys who was to blame for innocent Jannet’s death and disappearance. They were known for skulking about, even though each time they tried to enter the video store, Max promptly kicked them out. It still shocked me to my core how they weren’t prime suspects. It was so obvious, but maybe it was because I’d been incorporated to the cult.

And that’s when my attention was stolen to the opening of Ruby’s bedroom door. Her panting was far more violent than before. If I tried to listen even closer, I could feel drops of saliva hitting the hardwood floor. My body became tense. If I tried to move, I knew I would be drawn in her general direction.

I’d want to kill her.

I prayed that she was only moving to the bathroom. But I heard the creak of the steps as she descended. It was slow; she was trying her best to resist the temptation. I wanted to call for her; even her name tasted delicious.

And then she came into view. She was far worse that she was yesterday. Whatever human part of me remained froze on the spot. Her face had wrinkled and expanded. Her eyes were blood red and her fangs protruded threateningly. Her nails were elongated and sharp. Instead of hands, she had claws. Ruby was hunched over, eyes trained on my figure.

As hungry as I was, I was also very, very afraid. There was no hint of Ruby remaining on her expression. I released my legs slowly and sat up. She made no move toward me. The wind picked up outside, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was harnessing her vampiric powers.

“Ruby,” I gasped. “Ruby, no.”

For a moment, the wrinkles began to disperse. She recognized me. It gave me the chance to rise to my feet and push myself against the wall by the front door. The temptation was tough to fight, but it was Ruby. I could never hurt her. We loved each other. She was my best friend.

But just as she almost returned to ‘normal,’ she let out a snarl and began levitating off the ground toward me. The wind picked up even further as her arms outstretched in my directions, and a drool trail was quick to follow behind her. She slashed hungrily.

As she was a few feet away from me, I realized I wasn’t hungry enough to fight back or manifest whatever powers she had. I was tempted, yes, but I wasn’t on the verge of starvation like she was. I didn’t know how to fly or transform. So, all I could do was dash toward the front door.

She smacked into the wall beside me. I had to buy myself time because the front door had two locks establish. I grabbed the coat rack and swung it at her. She let out a screech of fury as it trapped her against the floor. I fiddled with the chain lock, lost tearing it from the wood. The door cracked from how much the wind was speeding, and I could hear some of the roof panels flying off.

I heard her recover from behind me. Just as I was starting to twist the other lock, I was tackled to the ground. My head rang as I collided with the wall. However, I wasn’t winded enough not to fight back. Her claws were digging into the side of my head and I knew I was bleeding; however, I kicked her stomach and sent her flying back. Despite the newfound strength, though, she snatched my ankle and pulled me with her. Instead of sitting up, I was dragged to a seated position on the floor.

And that’s when I felt her teeth tear into my ankle and blood-curdling scream escaped.

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erabundus · 1 year

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i've been thinking about the headcanon that ren has two kinds of blood for no reason in particular. the red blood ( "surface" blood ) which goes to his extremities and other nonessential parts of his body, and the purple blood — or what filled the tubes that kept him connected to shouki no kami. as mentioned in the original post, the purple "blood" is more akin to liquified divine power and flows through his innermost workings. it's the form the electro energy produced by his core takes while inside his body, and being drained of it is one of the only ways to kill ren as much as he can possibly die. thankfully, it's very difficult to actually wound him in such a way that damages his "vitals," especially for someone who doesn't know where they are. ( because his anatomy is weird, and even being decapitated would only slow him down. )

however, assuming he does sustain a wound to his core, and assuming he does manage to stop the bleeding before he crosses the point of no return, the RECOVERY process is ... interesting.

ren can regenerate what "blood" he's lost in time. his vitals are designed in such a way that they will continue to generate power indefinitely — even heightening production ( albeit at the cost of straining his body ) to recover however much energy they need until they hit his natural cap. scaramouche's parasitic catalyst actually capitalized on this by feeding on miniscule traces of his blood. using it would fatigue him, but never to such a degree that it became more than a minor INCONVENIENCE. should he bleed in even greater amounts, however, he basically experiences something close to ANEMIA — or ( obviously ) a human's reaction to blood loss. you could call it low power mode.

his body prioritizes recovering energy above all else, and basically shuts off all of his unnecessary functions — or has them running in a more limited capacity. he gets very, very tired. in particularly severe cases, he may fall into a COMA. ( though with ren being ren, if he still has the strength to fight off sleep, he will. ) words come very sparse and quiet — when he actually speaks at all. movement is hard; he can't walk, can't stand, can barely sit up, fingers gone too clumsy and sluggish to accomplish much. all he can really do is exist and wait and seethe a little over the inconvenience. he also gains something akin to a fever as his body goes into overdrive to recuperate what it's lost.

how long "low power mode" lasts depends on the amount of blood lost, and whether he makes things more difficult by trying to exert himself unnecessarily. it's faster if he sleeps — but again, barring his body forcibly shutting him down, he won't do that.

#𝟎𝟎𝟒 : 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. ◟ hc .◝#blood tw #gore tw #( surprise weird puppet anatomy lesson )#( ren basically runs on whatever they put in purple glitter gel pens )#( in the dichotomy of wanderers anatomically being more machine vs more human i'd put ren more on the human adjacent side )#( but his body has its weird quirks )#( as for where his core / vitals are actually located well..... :')!! )

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m-feline · 2 years

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To adapt, to survive, to live - ch 11

Silco x Freader

Tags: fluff, singing, games, paperwork, makeup, injection to the eye;

Masterlist

Previous ->

Time passed and then a month passed from my ritual. As I took the treatments, my body got accustomed to the moving signia. On the last day, there was no need for treatment, according to the Doctor. We went back to him to get more vials if needed and he also made a full checkup for me. I didn't like to be there, with such a bad memory of the place but I had promised Silco to do it.

The Doctor offered to make my last formula for the ritual himself but I refused. I did however agree to his offer to have a tank set for me, for recuperating after the last ritual. He said it would be easier for me to sleep while the body got accustomed to the formula. He also asked a few questions about the recipes and their purpose, how I made the formulas, and so on. After all that, everything was going back to normal.

Well, not everything. Silco had gathered more power, and influence while I was recovering. He had his factory set and at full capacity, making Shimmer, but it also started something new. Silco had also made a deal with some other parties, and they had started to invest in mechanical implants. Which was slowly yet eagerly getting people interested in augmentations to their bodies. Sevika for example got a new arm, and it became a hit when she used it to deal with nasty businesses for Silco. Many people later began to use these augmentations whether they really needed them or not.

Shimmer kept raging on the streets. It wasn't so hidden anymore. Almost everyone used it one way or another. But other things began to come up as well. Greenhouses in Promenade levels. Markets, parlors, Chemtech, and Chem barons. I tried to not look but in the end, it became impossible not to look at the changes. The Undercity was now full of companies that were directed by Chem barons, and Silco led them. As time went by the Undercity was changing into something entirely different yet at the same time, it had the same rules. Strong will trample the weak. But the scale could now be tilted when you consumed Shimmer. Take just a little and you survive for the day. Take too much and you end up in the slumps with nasty side effects.

For me, it meant that staying with Silco was even more imperative for my ritual and my life. I worked at the bar as usual but now Silco set me mostly on the night shift. It was fine by me. It meant more time with Jinx in the morning and work at night. Yes, I would be tired after it but it didn't bother me too much. What bothered me was Silco watching my every move at the end of the shift when I would close the bar and clean the lounge. But that was about to change too.

The Last Drop was going to be remodeled soon. And remodeling the bar was going to change it drastically. The bar was getting a new look, it was turning into a night club, the façade of the place was changing, and the entire second floor was growing. Jinx was getting her own room. As was I. I didn't ask for it but it was still on the way. I was more interested in the kitchen that was coming to the second floor. I no longer would need to go downstairs to cook. And it kept me closer to Jinx. And Silco.

Though things were normal now, Silco for some reason kept me somewhere so he could see me. I don't know why but it made me nervous from time to time. He would come to the lounge, sit at the bar, sipping his drink and tell his goons to give me some room when I cleaned the place. And many of them did. They were all accustomed to me doing some sort of chores in the Last Drop. Be it cooking or cleaning. So far their favorite thing had been my cooking but Silco was slowly restricting that. I still made more food but only certain people were allowed to eat it. It was kind of a carrot for them to do their work and then receive a good homemade meal. A privilege, that only Silco, and Jinx were allowed to have daily. It was also a way for Silco to calm down when he got his meal which was made specifically for him.

But when I cleaned, it was quiet, leisure time for everyone to simply relax. No need for Shimmer to make them tough. No noise of crowds in the Last Drop. And no rush to go anywhere unless you had an early shift tomorrow. I liked those quiet hours even when Vander was alive. Now there were just slightly more people but that was okay.

One such night, I was cleaning when one new guy was talking with Dustin and brought up my singing.

“So, you see, (Y/n) has this habit of humming when she sweeps the floor,” Dustin said to the new guy. Matt, I think was his name.

“I do noo~t,” I said as I passed and picked the empty glasses for the table next to him.

“You sure doo~,” Dustin sang back with same tone, laughing. "We all heard you, right Lock?”

“Heard you,” Lock said at the other side of the lounge.

“Heard you too,” Ran said before taking a sip of her drink.

“We all have heard you,” Sevika said playing cards with two other guys.

"Well, I'm sorry for ruining your evening with my horrible attempt at singing,” I said dramatically and took a batch of glasses to the bar so Thieram could wash them.

“Woah, Woah, Woah! I never said it was horrible,” Dustin said. "It's just… surprising.”

“Nice save, Dustin,” Ran snickered at Dustin’s predicament.

“Wh-what I meant is…” Dustin tried but I simply plucked the almost-finished glass of rum from his hands. "Hey, I wasn't finished.”

"You are,” I said and took Matt’s empty glass too. "Let's end it here before you get even more embarrassed by getting drunk.” Almost everyone in the lounge chuckled to what I said.. All except one.

“So, everyone has heard (Y/n) sing,” Silco said moving the glass of whiskey and looking at the ice cubes twirl in the drink. He was sitting at his usual spot at the bar. "I haven't heard her.” Shit. Don't tell me…

“Ooh, now you have to sing,” Dustin grinned.

“Why in hell would I do that?” I asked glaring daggers at him.

“You heard the boss, he hasn't heard you,” Ran said trying to suppress her laugh.

“That doesn't mean I'm going to sing now,” I said glaring at her now.

“Just do it, (Y/n),” Sevika said trying to ignore the topic and focus on the game again.

"No, not gonna happen.” I insisted.

“Do we have to say the p-word?” Matt asked.

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“Penalty?” Dustin added knowing this game. To see who will fall to the word "please” before they get me to agree with another kind of p-words.

“Permission?” Ran added.

“Umm, … give me a minute. I got one,” Lock tired. "Umm, Provoke.”

“Persuasion,” Sevika said.

"Yeah, none so far aren't working,” I said suppressing giggles.

“Privilege,” Silco said and made everyone make oooh, sounds.

“Best one so far,” Ran said.

“Tempting but no,” I said.

“Possitive effect.”

I turned to look at the second floor where Jinx stood and leaned against the railing looking down at the rest of us.

“That one doesn't count, it's two words,” Dustin said.

“No one said it had to be one word,” Jinx said grinning.

“Why aren't you in bed?” I asked with a hint of anger in my voice.

“Couldn’t sleep, and I heard you talking. I wanna hear you sing,” Jinx said.

“I'm not going to sing,” I said firmly.

“Pwueeeeease.”

“Yeah, girl, do the puppy-eyes. Oh, that's good p-word too,” Matt said.

“What? Sense when…” I barely had time to ask when Jinx made the most adorable puppy-eyes and looked at me.

“Oh no!” I shouted and covered side of my eyes so I wouldn't see her. "Who of you son-offa-bitches taught her that?”

“Oh come one, you looked after four kids before, surely you got immune to the puppy-eyes trick,” Ran said grinning and made Lock laugh.

“It's not the same when they made the worst puppy-eyes ever,” I said to her angrily. "It is so easy to say no when someone looks like they ate something sour, or look like their bladder is about to explode.” I looked at Dustin who quickly tried his version of puppy-eyes.

“Hell no,” I said to him and then turned to others. "See how easy it is?” Everyone broke to laughs after that and Dusting looked like someone told him to jump to a fissure.

“Pleeeease!” Jinx tried again. She had moved to a place where I could see her better.

“Oh no, oh no. I can't say no to that,” I whined.

“She cracking. Just add a bit of sadness,” Ran shouted to Jinx.

“If I learn you guys taught her puppy-eyes, I swear I poison your next meals,” I threatened Ran while I tried to avoid looking at Jinx.

“Pretty Pleeeease.”

Oh no, she is good. I can't. Silco was just smiling behind his glass as he listened to this spectacle happening.

“Fine. You win,” I sighed.

“Yessss.” Jinx cheered.

“One song and you go back to bed,” I said to her sternly.

“Okay,” Jinx said before she ran somewhere but I didn't look since my eyes were now on the people sitting downstairs.

“And the rest of you will do the cleaning,” I said glaring at them.

“What? No way,” Ran asked.

“They will,” Silco said. "You will go with Jinx and make sure this time she goes to sleep.” I didn't need to say more when everyone gave confirmation either as firm "yes” or groans. Jinx came down with a guitar and held it towards me.

“You do know I can't play that well, right?” I asked.

“But you can play one song,” Jinx grinned. Oh, I knew already what song she had in mind.

"You also know that song is in another language?” I asked again.

“But it sounds pretty,” Jinx said.

“Fine then,” I said and took the guitar before I sat on empty bar stool. Jinx went to sit on another stool next to Silco grinning victoriously that she got her way.

I began the song with very simple sounds from the guitar. The song didn't need more than simple strokes of the guitar and repeat them over and over. Though the melody was simple, the song was more deep. No one knew what I was singing, not even Jinx. For someone it might have sounded like a live song. But I knew what the song was about. It was about missing the past, the people lost, and the days that will not return, and how one will move on despite all that and face the future. As I sang more, the more my confidence grew and I sang louder. When I finished the song, some of the people applauded for the song. That being Jinx, Dustin, Matt, and a couple of more. I set the guitar away as I got up and turned to Jinx when the claps got down.

“And now you go back to bed,” I said.

“Aaw, but I wanna hear another,” Jinx whined.

“Nope, we agreed. To the bed,” I said and picked her up from the stool.

“Oh come on, pleeeease,” Jinx tried begging.

“Not working this time,” I said before I turned to others. "And you guys clean this lounge.” I was answered by choir of groans as I began to climb the stairs. But it got quiet quickly and sounds of moving chairs and clicks of glasses filled the lounge. Maybe they remembered that it was Silco who said they would do it. Either way, I took Jinx to my room and tucked her in, and after another lullaby, which she requested, I left her sleep and headed back to downstairs to see if the lounge was truly cleaned. I didn't even reach the stairs when I met with Silco. He carried a small stack of papers in his hand.

"Going somewhere?” Silco asked.

"To see if the lounge needs cleaning,” I said.

“I told them to clean it, and they will,” He said.

“Okay, what about you then?” I asked.

“I got work to do,” Silco said lifting his hand with papers in emphasis.

“At this hour?” I asked in shock. "When are you going to sleep?”

"Later,” he said. "I only need to go through these and I rest then.” Thought the stack wasn't big but I could tell there was much to go through.

“Let me help,” I sighed. "At least, the ones that aren't about Shimmer production. The faster you get to rest the better I sleep too.”

"Very well,” Silco said and led me to his room. One of the major changes that will happen to this place will be that he will get an office in this establishment. I'm waiting for it. It feels a bit intrusive for me to come and go to his room.

When we enter I saw more papers waiting for him to go through. I'm the one who will be needing rest after going through even half of that pile.

“Just go through that pile and tell me what it is about, if it isn't important just stack it there,” Silco said pointing to one stack and then an empty spot on the table. " If it is important just pass it to me.” Great, late-night shift of secretary work. The job wasn't hard but it got longer as I went through the papers. Some reports from the factory regarding shifts, people, gear, chemicals. Those were papers Silco wanted to look later. The letters from the Chem Barons, unless they were about the factory and possible new location, he asked them to be set away. Then there were about the remodeling of the Last Drop, calls for meeting with people wishing to join Chem Barons, supply networks. And… an invitation to the Topside?

“Set it away,” Silco said sound extra grumpy.

“Why do you get an invitation to the Top?” I asked looking at the letter.

“I wish to make a deal so we can get some parts for the factory. It would make things easier to work with,” Silco said dismissing the letter in my hands.

“It says, they are willing to negotiate,” I said reading the letter over and over again. I saw no problem with it's contents. "Is the person you are to meet an unpleasant one?”

“No, he is alright,” Silco said finishing the last paper of his stack.

“Then why not?” I asked. He turned to look at me and simple motioned to his mangled face. "Oh, that's it?”

“Though I'm not going to meet Piltover’s finest elites, I doubt this face will draw any positive reactions,” Silco said.

“But you need this deal, right?” I asked.

“Unless I'm willing to work my employers to the death, yes,” Silco sighed.

“Wait a moment,” I said and left the room. I wasn't gone long but I came back with my compact makeup kit. "Why not try this?”

“I doubt you and I share the same palette,” Silco said eyeing the compact makeup kit.

“Just for your left side, only the concealer,” I said. He seemed to think about it, and for a moment I thought he would say no. But he then gave a tired sigh and motioned me to come closer. I leaned over him as I applied the concealer and slowly hid the scars under the make up. The result wasn't bad. But he could use a touch of the liner to create an eyebrow over his mutated eye. But I promised that I’d only used concealer so if he agrees to go, then I could add it. When I finished I snapped the sponge back to the compact with a snap.

“Done,” I said happily. " You should take a look in the mirror.” Silco got up with a huff and walked to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. I got closer to see his reaction, and it was worth it. The look of surprise and amazement was clear in his good eye as he touched his left side of the face with his hand.

“Impressive,” He said.

“If you let me paint a brow on you face, then you would look even better,” I said smiling. "Add that charming smile of yours and surely some ladies would fall for you.”

“Would you?” He asked turning to face me. I was caught in surprise when he asked that. I was completely speechless for entirely 30 seconds till I got my mouth working again.

“Maybe someone more pretty,” I tried to sound unbothered.

“You can be quite pretty if you allow it,” Silco said smirking. Dammit, what have I gotten myself into?

“My point is, your look won't be too eye-catching as you said earlier,” I said but I was slowly losing my words again. "Surely, your left eye is still evident … but in a good way. What I meant… you're handsome…No!... I mean.. "

“My, my,” Silco chuckled. "Our nightingale has lost her words. How cute.”

“I…I’m … not a … nightingale ,” I stuttered.

“Oh, what then?” Silco asked as he began to walk towards me. "A siren? A nymph? An angel?”

"No-now you are making things up?” I said trying to get my composure back. "And stop with this game, it isn't funny.”

"Oh well,” Silco sighed and ended his teasing. "Still, thanks for the tip. I will have to make more appearances at Piltover in the future. This will certainly be helpful.”

"Good,” I sighed in relief and took there remaining stack of papers. There was a couple of letters about some transported goods but I didn't need to see more when Silco dismissed them saying they can wait. We were about warp it up, when I noticed Silco bring out the injector again. He sat on the armchair and tried to bring the device over his eye yet this time it seemed to be difficult.

“Something wrong?” I asked as I cleaned and organized the papers.

“Just a slight need for adjustment,” He said and tried to concentrate to place the device over his eye.

“Was your drug changed again?” I asked. So far, Silco had three different variants of the drug to his eye.

“Yes, Singed gave me a new one,” Silco said and gave up on the effort. "It's mixed with shimmer and other chemicals. It would be a tenth of the dose from before but the effect should last longer.”

“Meaning fewer injections, that's good, isn't it?” I asked.

“I suppose, the trouble is that since the dose is stronger, setting the device correctly becomes more crucial,” Silco explained. "Otherwise, the moment it is injected I might hurt myself in the process.”

“You need someone else to do it?”, I asked.

“I can do it myself,” Silco said a bit annoyingly. "It just requires more patience.” I saw him try to place the device over his eye again, and for a moment it seemed to work but it slipped again.

“Here, let me,” I said and came to him and took the device from him.

“I said I can do it,” Silco said tiredly.

“Sure but let's just say that we get faster to sleep when I do it,” I said and adjusted the device in my hand. ”Lean back and look up.” After sighing Silco leaned back to the backrest of the chair as I set the device over his eye. It still needed some minor adjustment so I had to lean over him. It wasn't easy unless I sat on his lap but now was no time or place for it. So instead I placed one leg on the armrest and leaned over him. Now it was in place. All that was needed was to squeeze the handle. Ever since Signed made Shimmer fused drug for Silco, I noticed that the reaction was from time to time strong for him. He would have convulses for seconds as the effect dies down. This shouldn't be any different. I felt his hand coming to rest over my thigh that was over the armrest, as I gave a small caress with my thumb to the side of his face. Then I pressed the handle. The needle just pinched his eyes but that was all he needed. He groaned and his hand gripped my thigh as the surge of pain went through him. I saw some purple liquid coming out of his dark eye so I used my sleeve to wipe it away. He looked even more tired now. It was about time we both went to bed.

“Thank you,” Silco let out with a huff.

“You're welcome,” I said as I handed him back the device. ”Good night.”

"Were you planning to leave someday?” Silco asked while he still sat on the armchair. I was just about to turn and leave when he asked that. It made me freeze there, wondering what should I say. Confess it? Deny it?

“I'm not sure what you…” I started saying, hoping I would have an idea before I finish the sentence. But nothing came to mind. Silco just waited for me to finish talking but I didn't. I simply had no idea. "I thought about it when I began working here. When the kids would be old enough to live their lives, I would leave Undercity and Piltover altogether.”

“And now?”

“ I don't know. I just wanted to leave the place that took my family away. No one would need me so no point in staying.” I chuckled at my own naivety. "But now, Jinx needs me. Even if I get my signia, I don’t know if I should stay or leave.”

"Why not stay?”

"Why should I?”

“Perhaps, just to see how everything changes as we reach our goals.”

"I have seen the changes the Shimmer does, it's not that amazing sight to see.”

“No, but what comes after it.”

I kinda wanted to see where Silco was heading with all of his plans but I also worried for Jinx. Then again my ritual wasn't finished. So far I had postponed the thought of it till my signia was done. Then, if I was no longer needed or if I was still needed would depend on Jinx.

“I don't know.” I sighed. " I’ll get back to it once things clear out.” I left Silco’s room and went to my room to get in the bed with Jinx and fall asleep.

Next ->

#silco #silco league of legends #arcane #silco x reader #jinx powder #silco fanfic

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stewardofningishzida · 1 year

Text

Chapter 12: Double Double

Whoo! I know it’s been a while people, but the meta-fic lives! Everyone just needed to do some life stuff, but we’re back! Here’s the latest chapter. Enjoy!

TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of eye injury, mention of depression

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*My sleep is still troubled. It’ll probably be a while before the nightmares completely subside. Though at least my legs are a bit better today. Lab work isn’t as strenuous as scrambling through an abandoned mine. They’re still aggravated, but it’ll eventually calm down in another day or two. Trix and Stephen are still making sure that Tear and I are recovering. Tear, although still recuperating from the shock of her near-death experience, looks a little better today after having some actual sleep. Stephen has us meditate again after breakfast to help us continue to stabilize. He stays behind once more to continue his work while Tear and I go to our shifts. I get back on-time this evening, at least. Though I’m starving because I had worked through my lunch break to make up for yesterday and catch up.*

Me (tired): Back. I finally fixed everything at work. What a day…How’s everyone else? *I’m squinting slightly because I have a headache. So, I wander off to the bathroom to get medication while listening to my friends.*

Tear: *Looks up from her laptop and removes her earphones* Today’s been easier, I guess. The café and bakery are still standing, and I’ve been doing a few ingredient cost corrections. We might have to change providers for our egg supplies and those negotiations are always tiresome.

Trix: I’m doing fine. I’m still on vacation and haven’t heard anything from work about things going catastophic.

*Stephen is quiet and tense. He seems to be concentrating while staring at his hands. He gingerly lifts one up to check it for something…It’s trembling. Not too badly, but ever so slightly.*

Stephen (trying to hide his fear and desperation): This…This shouldn’t be happening. My spell isn’t working.

*He utters the incantation, trying again. It fails.*

Stephen: Why isn’t this working? *He stares at his shaking hands. His voice gets quiet.* Shit…

*We’re all fully alert now.*

Tear: Stephen? *I place my laptop down and uncurl from my position on the couch, eyeing the research he had spread around him to see what had prompted his actions*

Trix: What’s going on?

Me (worried): Stephen, are you okay? *I peer out from the medicine cabinet.*

Stephen: I…I don’t know. My abilities appear to be fading. *He pauses for a moment to think before the realization dawns on him.* I’ve been outside of a non-magical universe with no real mystical sustenance for too long. Damnit… *He’s at a loss as to what to do.*

Trix: By magical sustenance…do you mean that the thing about not being able to sustain yourself on just human food is a real thing? Because I don’t read the comics but I heard…things.

Stephen (trying to contain the mounting anxiety and despair): …I can usually just channel mystical energies from the multiverse around me to cast spells. Though the more you use magic, the more dependent on it you become. Eventually, your body starts to require intake of magical substances to maintain your abilities…I have nothing here. As a human sorcerer, I still need to maintain my normal self through regular food, but to actually use and maintain my abilities, I need to absorb magic from other things. *He sighs harshly.*

Me: …Could we do anything for you? Like, maybe we could each cast the spell that PrettyWitch from the group text used on you? It could be us taking turns with one of us casting it each day.

Stephen (trying to be patient): That would only buy me a few days at most and you would all be heavily weakened. It takes too much out of a normal person and even rotating, you wouldn’t have enough time to fully recover.

Trix: I mean, it’s worth it if it can help get you home. Aren’t there things we could use to, I dunno, boost the power? I’ve always heard of moonlight boosting crystal energy, is there something like that that could help?

Tear: Yeah! Besides, buying you a few days could prove to be pivotal. Out of everyone in this room, you are the one with the highest chance of finding a way back home through your magic. I’d gladly use my energy to give you that extra time.

Stephen: All of you have already done so much for me. I can’t let you do that to yourselves. Especially with multiple people in your group still recovering from the last major incident.

Trix: I guess…but are you sure?

Me: I’m fine. Please let us help you.

Tear: Come on. If there’s something superheroes have taught us, is that we must rise to the challenge. We’ll always have time to rest up and recover once the problem has been resolved.

Stephen: No, ladies. You’ve all done enough. Just…I need to be alone right now.

*He has since grown past outbursts. Now, he’s on the brink of despair. Stephen needs some time to himself to think about what’s starting to happen. To somehow steel his courage and keep looking for some way, any way, to get home. We let him have some space and time to himself. A while after Stephen has some time to himself, he gets a text.*

PrettyWitch (text): Hey. How are you?

Stephen (text): Not good. I’m losing my abilities and given the level of energy drain you’ve experienced, the group’s proposal of rotating individuals for the spell would not be sustainable. Your group has done more than enough for me.

PrettyWitch (text): Okay. Well we can find some other way of helping you. There has to be one.

Stephen (text): How? Your group and I have been tirelessly researching and attempting all possibilities in this forsaken universe…Even to the point of two of you almost dying.

PrettyWitch (text): I didn’t almost die.

Stephen (text): No, but Tear and Steward were nearly killed in the last attempt at finding a source of magic a few days ago. There was a collapse in an abandoned mine and Tear nearly fell down a chasm while Steward suffered a psionic assault from an interdimensional rift.

PrettyWitch (text): 😧Oh my God…

Stephen (text): I can’t let more of you sacrifice yourselves.

PrettyWitch (text): So what? You’re just gonna try fixing this all by yourself, now?

Stephen (text): What choice do I have? It’s only getting worse.

PrettyWitch (text): Yes, but if you don’t get help then where will that leave you? Do you really wanna be stuck here forever?

Stephen (text): No…I just need to think so I can figure something out.

PrettyWitch (text): Okay. Let us help you.

Stephen (text): How?

PrettyWitch (text): Well, maybe we can start looking through other Wiccan books or books on alchemy, those must have something.

Stephen (text): Are there any that we’ve missed? Here is the list of the ones I checked. *He gives an incredibly long list.*

PrettyWitch (text): Oh damn! That’s a lot.

Stephen (text): …Yep.

PrettyWitch (text): Alright. I’ll just keep sending you protection magic until you find something. Hell, maybe try manifesting your magic back!

Stephen (text): No…Teach the others. Rotate. The spells you’re doing will keep draining you. If you keep it up, it’ll start taking years off of your life.

PrettyWitch (text): Okay. Fine, I’ll do that. In the meantime look into manifestation.

Stephen (text): …Okay. Thank you.

PrettyWitch (text): You’re welcome.😊 but please don’t hesitate to ask for help. You have a bad habit of trying to fix everything yourself so you don’t hurt other people.

Stephen (text): I know.

PrettyWitch (text): Yay! 😊🫂Good luck! and don’t hesitate to text me if you need a pick-me-up. Also say hi to Cloakie for me.

Stephen (text): Will do.

*At this point, the only reason Stephen hasn’t been as stubborn lately is because he feels more and more ground down by his predicament. There’s only so much willpower that he can continue to muster as his ability to act diminishes further. Meanwhile, the group members get a ping in the group text. PrettyWitch has called an emergency meeting via Discord video chat so we can learn the ritual she used to help Stephen. When people are available, we get online to figure this out.*

Me: Okay, PrettyWitch. Let’s see what you got.

Tear: Do we need to get anything ready for this ritual? I’ve no idea how any of this works…

Me: I have some sage, crystals, salt, essential oils, incense, and a few basics if needed on my end.

Stephen: I’m here to observe. *The Cloak is on him as usual. It seems more clingy than normal.*

Trix: I do more tarot and crystals myself but I’m willing to do more to help.

PrettyWitch: (staring in awe at Stephen…Before she realizes how creepy she seems and snaps out of it.) Sorry. First time seeing you in the flesh.

Stephen (awkward, but no longer as snarky as he once was): Erm…? Ah, right. Well, nice to meet you, PrettyWitch.

Prettywitch: It’s nice to meet you, too.

*I show up on his screen momentarily because I’m hooking his iPad up with the charger*

Me: Sorry. Old iPad. Needs power.

*I go back off his screen and back onto my own on my laptop.*

Stephen: So, what’s first?

PrettyWitch: Well, the first thing you need to do is imagine yourself conjuring a little ball in the palm of your hands. I usually envision mine as a white, transparent ball.

Me: Okay. We’re following you.

Stephen: One at a time would be better so you don’t all burn yourselves out. Who wants to try this? PrettyWitch, not you yet. You still should take time to recover from your first time. It’ll take a few days before your energy gets back to normal.

Prettywitch: Okay.

Trix: I can try it first since the rest of these guys did the mine.

Tear: *I cross my arms and slouch back on the couch, pouting* It’s not like we ran out of turns to help though…

Me: What’s the next step? *We watch her.*

PrettyWitch: Next step would be to think of the person or object you’re looking to protect and envision them inside the magic ball you’re casting.

Me: Okay.

Stephen: Sounds reasonable.

Trix: Got it.

Tear: So picture Stephen in a hamster ball, got it. *I immediately close my eyes in regret and pinch the bridge of my nose* Great, now that’s one image I won’t be able to get out of my head.

*We await further instructions.*

PrettyWitch: Then you say the phrase, “Protect [insert person’s name], who I deem needing. As I say it, so mote it be.” Then you can just cast the spell out into the ether. That’s what I do. Then to get rid of excess magic energy, just brush your hands off to the side, like you’re sweeping away dust.

Me: Huh…That’s pretty straightforward.

Stephen: Effective, though. I’ll admit that.

Trix: Well, some of the most effective things are simple to keep its potency. *follows PrettyWitch’s instructions* Protect Stephen Strange, who I deem needing. As I say it, so mote it be. *brushes hands off to the side as instructed*

Tear: *Watches Trix cautiously* …Well, at least you didn’t combust or anything.

Me: Anything else we should know or is that it?

PrettyWitch: (shrugs) Not really. Magic, the way I understand it, basically works if you visualize it in your mind, first. Though incantations still exist.

Stephen: Depends on the type of magic, yes. Though in your universe, it seems that this is the only way to make it work. Even then, with mixed results.

Trix: Well, I think it worked! *slightly swaying*

Stephen: Thank you, PrettyWitch, for teaching us this spell…and thank you, Trix, for providing me with energy. *He’s sincere.*

PrettyWitch: You’re most welcome. Anything to help my Marvel Boy.

*Stephen turns slightly red and coughs.*

Stephen: Haven’t heard THAT nickname before…

Prettywitch: Eh, when you’re terminally online, you tend to pick up the lingo.

Me: Any other news from anyone or should we call it an evening? It kinda looks like Trix is about to pass out…Are you okay?

Trix: It feels like college when I was too stubborn to sleep and forgot to eat at the same time. Or one of my ocular migraines because I cannot see properly.

PrettyWitch: Oh dear. It’s probably cause she’s not used to it.

Stephen: We should probably call it a night so Trix can rest. I’ll check on her. *He’s genuinely concerned.*

Me: Yeesh. Okay. So, let’s note when each person does it so we can rotate and not burn ourselves out.

Tear: That would be smart. It can also help us ensure Stephen always has a constant flow of energy, small as it may be.

*Stephen has gone onto Trix’s screen and is checking on her. He’s being quite gentle.*

Trix: I’ll be good eventually! You’d be annoyed with how often I get like this on a normal day with no magic! *tries to make light of the situation*

Stephen: Take it easy for a while, okay?

Me: I noted the dates that PrettyWitch and Trix did the spell. I’ll go next when it’s time to do it again. Tear can go after me. Are you okay with this, Tear?

Tear: *I bite my lip and eye Steward carefully* Maybe I should go first. I didn’t have such close contact to the negative energies within the cave. You could use a few extra days to replenish properly.

Me: Are you sure, Tear? You got rattled pretty badly too…

Tear: Physically, for sure. But not mentally…spiritually? I should be fine to send Stephen some good vibes.

Me: Okay. If that’s everything, we’ll say good night for now. Thanks, PrettyWitch. You’re a lifesaver.

PrettyWitch: No problem, love.

Tear: We’ll text you and ask for help if Trix doesn’t get better or has other odd side effects.

Stephen (carefully helping Trix to the couch): Good night.

Trix: Night! *Attempts to wave but kinda flops her arm around*

*I wave before ending the call.*

*Over the next few days, we rotate through performing the spell to sustain Stephen while the research continues. Tear heads back home and we both continue juggling our work with helping Stephen. Though unfortunately, another wrench in the gears shows itself on Sunday. The Cloak, it seems, is becoming more and more sluggish. It doesn’t leave Stephen at all now and it moves ever so slowly and slightly.*

Stephen (worried): Not you too, Levi…

*He looks the relic over, concerned. It gives him a small, reassuring wave. The Cloak unfortunately requires magical energy to sustain itself too. So, in a desperate attempt at self-preservation, it has been siphoning whatever remaining dregs it can from Stephen when he isn’t using magic. Stephen’s hands continue to tremble. Though he can still somewhat control it when he needs to. We do what we can to comfort him. He flatly refuses to let us double our energy donations.*

Stephen (protective of us): This is risky enough as it is. Plus, you have jobs and lives outside of this. Please. I want you all to be healthy and safe.

Me: You have a life too, Stephen.

Stephen: Yes, but you’re all doing more than enough for me. Just get to work safely and do your best, okay?

*I look at him for a moment before nodding sadly and heading off to the lab for some experimental data collection. A few hours later, there’s a text on the university’s safety alerts.*

Text: ***Incident in the Biological Sciences Dept. 2 injured. Labs closed for the rest of the day.***

*There’s a scrambled text from me on the group thread.*

Me (text): Need ride. Eyes huer. Burmt. Gas.

*Stephen reads it over and over, anxiety starting to flood him.*

Tear (text): Anyone else with a car can go pick up Steward? I can’t leave the bakery yet.

Prettywitch (text): I can. I will pick up Stephen too. *A few minutes later, I arrive in the driveway and ring the doorbell.*

*Stephen answers*

Stephen: Okay. Let’s go. *He’s already ready to go.*

*PrettyWitch nods and helps him pick me up. When I get into the car, I stink of ether gas and am half-conscious. The smell eventually fades. A few minutes later, we get to the hospital.*

*Stephen is pacing. He’s frustrated that he can’t do anything here. He doesn’t have an MD in this universe. So, no authority here. After being checked and treated, unfortunately, my eyes and the skin around them have been burnt by a UV sterilization lamp. I’m currently blind, but since the cornea heals relatively quickly, I should regain my eyesight in a few days. I still need to take medicated eye drops to ensure the healing process works properly. Stephen goes to lead me to the car and we get back to my house. I’m sitting in my chair.*

Me (voice shaking): I…Oh God…I-I know it’s temporary, but it could have gone so much worse…*I’m trying to stay composed.*

Prettywitch: It’s alright, love. Just go with the flow. It’s okay to feel scared, even if it’s temporary. I know I’d be freaked, too if I were you.

Me: How am I supposed to help now? I can’t work either…*I’m trying to calm down. Hundreds of thoughts are swirling around in my head right now.*

Prettywitch: You can still help. My magic requires visualization in your mind.

Stephen: She needs to conserve her energy to heal more quickly.

Me (protesting): Stephen!

Stephen: No buts.

Prettywitch: No, he’s right. You need to conserve energy.

*I sigh*

Me: Fine…Just…What do I do now?

Prettywitch: Just relax for awhile, we’ll keep an eye on Stephen and Cloakie.

Stephen: I’ll help you when you need it, Steward, okay?

Me: Okay…

Stephen: You’ve lost a bit of weight, PrettyWitch. Eat something while you’re here. *He’s making sure she’s okay too.*

Prettywitch: Okay. I’ll have some cheesecake, then.

Me: It’s in the freezer. Just microwave it for like 30 seconds.

*He sits with me and PrettyWitch, keeping us company.*

*PrettyWitch is uncertain of what to say as she eats her cheesecake. She thinks of things to say, but she always feels like any questions she has for the Good Doctor would seem inappropriate at this time and she doesn’t want him humoring her when he’s pretty bummed, too.*

*I fiddle around with the edge of the tablecloth. It seems to be a sort of soothing action so I can at least sense something near me since I can’t see.*

Stephen: I’ll let the rest of the group know that we’ve sorted everything out.

*He pulls out his phone and dictates the text. His hands are shaking worse than ever right now.*

Prettywitch: Do you need help?

Stephen (getting slightly frustrated with autocorrect): *sighs* …That would be nice, yes. *He reluctantly hands his phone over to PrettyWitch.*

*She quickly types in a message and holds Stephen’s phone out to him.*

Prettywitch: Here.

Stephen (grateful): Thank you.

Prettywitch: You’re welcome…

Tear (text): Thank you for the update and getting Steward! I’m finishing a meeting with the accountants and then I’m heading over to help. Be there in a bit.

*Trix comes to the house to check on the situation, but she’s a bit drained because she just finished donating energy to Stephen. So, she stumbles as she enters the house. The sorcerer helps her get to a chair so we can all hang out together.*

Prettywitch: Are you going to be okay, Stephen?

Stephen: Honestly, I don’t know. I’m losing my abilities, albeit more slowly thanks to your help, and we’re running out of ideas to get me home. That and more of you are getting burnt out or hurt as this continues. It seems as though things keep getting worse.

*He’s tired of his usual confident guise and teetering on the brink of severe depression.*

Prettywitch: *Gently places her hand on one of his wrists to avoid hurting his hands.* Hey. We’ll get through this, you’ll see. You can’t give up now.

*He accepts the comfort and lets her get close.*

Stephen: I know…I don’t know what more to do yet, but I’ll have to keep looking…

*He looks tired and wracked with guilt and helplessness.*

Prettywitch: Look, if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re one stubborn son of a bitch. You never give up. Even if it’s at risk to yourself.

Stephen (small chuckle): That, I’ll admit.

Prettywitch: Good. Then use that to your advantage. If the multiverse exists and you can perform magic here, then there’s no reason to assume that you can’t find a way to contact Wong.

Stephen: Just a matter of figuring out how, yeah. If your manifestation spell can work here, then there HAS to be something…

*Trix and I have just been listening quietly the entire time. Honestly, hearing other people nearby is comforting.*

Prettywitch: (With sparkly eyes) Yes! There’s the Stephen I know and love!...Umm…sorry, I’m kinda weird like that. The important thing is that you don’t give up…Uh, you too, Steward…

*She feels bad for not talking to Steward much.

*I grunt. I’m kind of in my own thoughts at the moment anyway.*

Trix: We’re just chillin’ there’s no prob! *she tends to get pretty loopy after donating energy and is camped out next to Steward*

*I can feel Trix close by and lean slightly towards her, appreciating the company.*

Me (grim, but staying strong as best I can): We can’t give up anyway. There’s no other way but forward whether we like it or not. So, we have to work with what we’ve got. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but it can get you through tough stuff.

Stephen: You’re a better sport than me.

Me (sincere): Admittedly, I’m only as calm as I am because this condition is temporary. If this were permanent, I probably would have broken down by now. However, one thing I always try to keep in mind regardless of what’s happening to me is that we’ve all got something going on. It’s more a matter of making an effort to try and make things suck a bit less for everyone by being there for each other.

Trix: *slightly more serious* One of the best things I learned in college was that there will always be something that doesn’t go as planned and you just gotta be ready to troubleshoot. Running weekly live tv shows for your degree really hammers that in hard. We’ll all be okay, we just gotta figure out the newest puzzle!

*Tear arrives from her work then, carrying bags of groceries and a tray full of hot drinks for everyone gathered.*

Tear: I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier, but I thought I could help lessen the load around the house. I got you a few extra groceries to ensure you wouldn’t have to go out while you heal, Steward. And I wasn’t sure if you could drink caffeine with your new meds so I brought some fruit tisanes for everyone instead. *I place the hot drink cups in the middle of the table where everyone can go through the flavor labels before I proceed to put away the groceries* Are there any new advancements I missed?

Me: Thanks, Tear. *I’m genuinely grateful for her and my other friends being here.*

Stephen: Well, there’s one last thing I saw in one of the books your group found. Something about harmonic resonances of different metals used as conduits for cosmic energy…It sounds very similar to how certain relics work. Maybe…Hmmm…Seeing as you guys are fans of movie props, do any of you happen to have a replica of a Sling Ring?

Tear: Sorry, I do but the size would be too small for you…

Trix: *flops hand almost drunkenly around but makes sure not to hit Steward* I am a sucker for merch!

Stephen: So, that’s a yes?

Trix: *grins goofily* Yup! I can’t walk right now but it is in my office in my house!

Stephen: What is it made of?

Trix: Mine isn’t one of the real props so it’s a base metal so it’s a bunch of random scrap metals mixed together. It’s what most fashion jewelry is made of. You either need to make a mold of that and get whatever metal you need or we need one of the actual props from the movies~

Stephen: Hm. The best ones for resonance are a mix of silver, copper, and gold.

Me: I’ve got some souvenir 24 karat gold from an old class field trip to Sacramento. Could donate that to be melted down. It’s not much, though. Maybe we can get some gold leaf from a craft store to get more? Silver, I’m allergic to nickel and such. So, most of my jewelry is made with silver or at least plated with it or gold. Copper, I can probably buy some off of the chemistry lab. They use it as a reagent sometimes. So, that’s the metals covered.

Trix: Fuck, my boss and the goldsmith at work like me enough. If I send you with the sling ring to get a gold one custom made we could get the gold at cost. 14k would probably be the sturdiest as 18k might be too soft. If you make it in 14k rose gold, that would bring the copper into the mixture and would leave out other impurities. I’ll just pay him back when we’re not trying to send Stephen home. Shouldn’t be over $800 at least…I think. Just say you’re my brother in law and you came over to help while I’m injured.

Stephen: All right. Is there anything else you want or need me to do? *He’s being nice and genuinely wants to repay us for our kindness.*

Me: I’m good for now, but might need help with the burn medication later on. I don’t want to fumble around and spill it everywhere.

Trix: Snaaaaaacks *back to being unfocused because blood sugar is low*

Stephen (gentle): Will do. In the meantime, here. *He offers Trix some fruit.*

Trix: *grins* Thank you~ Key to my place is in my mini backpack near the door. Ignore the fact that it’s Marvel themed. Go forth sorcerer on your side quest!

Stephen: Wait a minute, I don’t have a license here. PrettyWitch, could you please drive me to the jewelry store after I get the replica from Trix’s house?

PrettyWitch: (Salutes) You got it!

Me: Please be safe, you two.

Stephen: For now, since we don’t have the money or all of the metals yet, I’m just grabbing the replica and requesting a mold. Trix, you may need to call your boss and the goldsmith to confirm so they don’t get suspicious of me.

Trix: *holds up phone* Way ahead of youuuuu~ Texted my boss already and said I’m sending you his way for a special project. They won’t question making a ring like this because they know all about how I’m a marvel nerd and wouldn’t question ‘family members’ being the same. If they ask, my migraines are worse than normal and that’s why I can’t stop by with you.

Stephen: Okay. Will do. Tear, please look after Trix and Steward while PrettyWitch and I are out.

Tear: *Salutes playfully* You can count on me, Cap’n. I had laser eye surgery last year, so I’ve got all sorts of ideas to make sure Steward rests and doesn’t get bored. I’ll make something to eat for when you guys come back, as well.

Trix: *grins* Godspeed!

*He goes to change into normal clothes, grabs Trix’s key, and heads out with PrettyWitch.*

***To be Continued***

#doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange meta fic #just for fun #multi author #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange

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