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lovingmattysposts · 4 months

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You don't know me 8

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pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship, cursing, suggestive

The morning came fast after last night. Chris walked me home, we were mostly silent. There was no more almost-kisses that were almost exchanged before we came to my tree. He kept his distance and I kept mine. I looked at him before starting to climb the tree. I watched from my balcony as he walked down the street, until he disappeared out of my sight.

Leaning back against the doors that opened into my room, I regretted how that went down between us. There were too many moments that almost caused me to slip again. It was like I couldn't control myself around him. Like it were almost impossible, and I hated myself for it.

I forgave Max early this morning when I woke up. The irrationality woke me up at 6am. I had to forgive him because of all of the things I was guilty for doing. I almost kissed Chris last night. I shook my head at my thoughts. This was ridiculous. I needed to control myself. No matter how bad things get with Max and I, that does not give me the right to cheat on him again. I already feel bad enough about everything already.

I stood up out of bed. I need to start getting ready. Max was going to be here in 30 mintues to come pick me up. I needed to look good. I needed him to notice the effort I was putting in for him, especially after our fight. I walked over to my desk before turning on the light and pulling out my makeup. I just needed to forget about Chris for a while.

By the time I was walking out of the door, my hair was curly, my lips were glossed, and I was drenched in perfume. I smiled when I saw his car. I walked over and opened the door before getting in. Max smiled at me. I just looked at him smiling, waiting for him to say something.

"It's a three hour drive so I don't mind if you get some sleep, I know it's early" He said as he backed out of my driveway. My eyebrows furrowed, but I shook my head. "I'm not tired, I fell asleep early last night" I lied. I was up until past midnight. I looked down and straightned out the bracelets on my wrist and looked back at him. He sighed and shook his head. "I did not" He said. I just looked at him.

"Cayden had me taking shots until after three" He groaned. I didn't say anything and looked down. I bit my lip. "I know Sydney told me" I mumbled. Max looked over at me, but I didn't look at him. Silence filled the air for a second. "I-I didn't know she was going to be there" He lied. I knew he lied because of what Sydney had texted me. I nodded and looked down.

"And I meant those texts y/n/n, I am sorry for the way I acted" He apologized. Maybe he was sorry. Maybe he was sorry for screaming at me over the outfit, or for almost killing me in the car, or intentionally uninviting me to hangout with our friends, but I didn't really care if he was actually sorry or not. All I cared about is that he never acted the way Chris acts towards me.

Chris was right, Max wasn't a nice person, but he was my person. Or at least he used to be. All that mattered was that he was kind to me. I don't know why I didn't care if he were kind to other people until now, but I do.

I guess I was just scared to lose him. I'm still scared to. The only thing that changed was now I wasn't only scared to lose him, I was too scared to stand up for myself. Because now that meant all the unkindness he showed to others, he showed to me. That's what scared me.

"It's okay Max. I just want to know that were okay" I whispered. He sighed. "I love you, you know that" He said looking at me. I stared at my lap. "Hey" He said softly. I looked up at him. He grabbed my hand as he glanced from the road to me. "You know that right?" He said looking at me. I nodded. I want to believe that at least. He smiled and brought my hand up to kiss it.

"But" He breathed. I looked up at him. "Can you agree that you might have stepped out of line a little bit too?" He asked. I sighed and looked down. No. I didn't step out of line. "I know, I did" I forced out of my mouth. He smiled and put his hand on my leg. He just didn't want to be the one completely in the wrong. I had to be somehow wrong too. Either way it's not worth fighting about, and I knew it. I knew it all too well.

"I'm sorry" I said quietly. Max looked over at me. "It's okay, I forgive you" He smiled. How did I end being the one apologizing? He lifting his hand off my leg. I was just ready to get back to the old Y/n and Max. The dynamic duo that everyone loved. That I loved.

I looked up at him and smiled. "Do y'notice anything different about me babe?" I smiled brigthly at him. He smiled and looked at me, then the road. He squinted his eyes. "That smile" He smiled. I rolled my eyes. "Okay, anything else?" I said looking at him. He looked at me again and shook his head. I frowned.

"I put on eyeliner and I used a different perfume" I pointed towards my eyes. He looked back at my eyes. "Oh yeah, your eyes do look darker" He said. I looked back towards the road. "I like when you put on makeup for me babe" He said putting his hand back on my leg and squeezing it. I looked up at him and smiled lightly.

"It makes you look hot" He smiled. I looked down. My favorite compliment, hot. Not 'my beautiful girl' or 'you look so pretty baby'. Nope just hot. I nodded. His hand slid higher on my leg. I looked down before looking up at him. "I so glad were not fighting anymore" He said looking over at me. I smiled. "Me too" I finally let a truth slip out of my mouth.

"If we win tonight, do you think we could celebrate?" He smiled. I pursed my lips. "I think you did enough celebrating last night" I raised my eyebrows. He rolled his eyes before squeezing my leg again.

"No I mean- just me and you" He said sliding his hand higher and attempting to push it up my skirt. I put my hand on his stopping it. "Max" I said through gritted teeth feeling my face go red.

"What?" He smiled over at me. I pushed it down towards my knee. "We'll see" I said looking out the window. He hummed. Ah sexual favors, like always, but it's never my turn.

The game started a few minutes ago and I sat alone against the cold bleachers since Max's parents were out of town. Instead I just played with the bracelets on my wrists. With Max on the ice and Sydney still dead asleep at Cayden's there was nothing on my phone. Instead I was trapped with my thoughts. Every time I let my mind race like this, it always went to Chris. I don't know why it did, but it always did without a doubt.

I knew I shouldn't let my mind run like this, but it was only place I could think about Chris and not feel guilty. Well I shouldn't say that. I do feel guilty, but the more I think about him, the more I can't control it. He's all I think about, and I don't know why.

Max's hand on my leg, I imagined it was Chris's. I saw a guy smoking a cigerttee when we walked in, I thought of Chris. As I felt the cold air outside, I thought of Chris's warm fire and blankets last night. As I was even getting ready this morning, I imagined I was getting ready to see Chris. My thoughts were getting out of control and I didn't know what to do.

I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a breath. I wondered to myself if I had just leaned forwards a little bit last night, if I would have regretted it. I wondered if Chris would have blamed me. If he was just testing me to see if I were the type of girl who would cheat on Max again, to see if I was full of shit before.

If I had just leaned forward.

I put my hands on my knees and my face in my hands. I needed to control myself. Chris would have never done what Max did to me. I wondered also if Chris thought about me as much as I thought about him.

He definitely didn't.

He's not even the one in a relationship right now. Is it wrong to think about another man the way I think about Chris? Is it wrong that I can't stop thinking about the way he held my hand as we walked through the woods? Or the way he looked down at me as I looked up towards the stars? Or the way he just listened to what I had to say?

Is it wrong about how much I think about how blue his eyes were when he talked? Or the way he licked his lips? Or the way I stare at his lip ring? Or the way he makes my heart beat when I'm around him? Or the fact that I'm sitting at my boyfriend's hockey game imaging the way his tongue would feel as he-

"Hey"

"Jesus!" I yelled putting my hand against my chest and looked up. Chris looked down at me laughing lightly. I looked away from him feeling my face go red. Did I accidentally summon him with my thoughts?

"Are you okay?" He laughed as he sat down next to me. I still didn't look up at him, feeling how red my face was. "I thought I told you to stop doing that" I said quickly, trying to calm down my heart rate. He smiled and looked off towards the ice. I sighed and finally looked up at him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him. He took some skittles out of the bag before eating some and looking at me. "Someone had to drive Nate" He pointed towards the ice. I looked off and saw Nate skating down the ice for the puck. I sighed and nodded. Of course, Nate. "Right" I breathed.

"Are you alright? You look a little flustered when I walked up" He smiled at me. I looked away from. "I was just thinking" I breathed. I felt his gaze on me as I stared forward. "About what?" He asked as he chewed. I looked at him and then at the skittles in his hands.

"Skittles? Really? Those aren't very healthy" I said directly conversation back on him. He looked down at the skittles and then at me.

"Oh because I'm just the king of health?" He smiled, making me smile and shake my head. I looked down at my shoes. Chris cleared his throat. "So you and uh... Max made up?" He asked motioning towards the ice. I looked over and saw Max standing on the ice. I looked down at my hands and shrugged. Chris just looked at me. Why was I embarrassed to say yes? Chris nodded and looked down.

I wish I could tell him everything, but I can't. I didn't want to disrespect Max and I didn't want to tell him that I wished I would have kissed him last night. That makes me a bad person and I didn't want to be a bad person. Not to Chris.

"So he wouldn't care if he saw me sitting next to you right?" Chris smiled down at me. I smiled at him. I knew he said it as a joke. Chris could care less if Max saw us sitting together or not. This boy is full of trouble. I looked out towards the ice and squinted. "He can't see us from all the way over here right?" I smiled at him. Chris smiled and shook his head.

"You're bad" Chris whispered making goosebumps go over my arms. I put my hands over my arms, rubbing them away. Even my body reacts to him. He looked over at me. "Are you cold?" He asked looking at me. Freezing. "I'm okay" I whispered. "You've got goosebumps" He pointed out.

God, this man notices everything.

"Here" he said as he shrugged off his jacket. I quickly looked at him shaking my head. "No, No, It's okay Chris really" I whispered, but he already shrug off the jacket and was attempting to hand it to me. I tilted my head at him.

"What?" He smiled. I looked off towards the ice and then back at him. He looked at the ice and then back at me. "What?" He smiled. "Would he be more okay with you being cold?" He raised his eyebrows. Yes actually. I sighed and took the jacket and pulled it around me. Chris looked at me. I glanced over at him as he looked at me.

"What?" I smiled. He smiled. "You did your makeup different today" He stated. I felt my cheek flush. Everything. I looked down, putting my hand up to my face. "Yeah I-I don't know I just-" I started to say. "You look pretty" He cut me off. I blushed and looked down.

“You always look pretty” He mumbled as he went back to eating his skittles. I turned my head away from him, attempting to hide my smile. This wasn't making my thoughts about him better.

I turned back towards him, watching him eat his skittles, but he was intentionally leaving the green ones out. I looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows. He looked up at me. "What?" He smiled. I shook my head.

"Why are you leaving out the green ones?" I asked pointing towards the skittles. He looked down at his hand "I hate the green ones" He said shaking his head. I gasped. He looked up at me.

"Chris those are the best ones" I argued looking at him. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at the green ones before grabbing my hand and placing all the green ones in mine. I looked down at them and the back at him. He just looked up and watched the game. I smiled and held them and looked at him.

"You're missing your boyfriend absolutly bomb on offense" Chris laughed looking forward. I pushed him slightly before looking towards the ice. I sighed letting go of my breath. Chris's knee bumped into mine. I glanced down at our touching knees but didn't move mine, but he didn't move his either.

Chris looked down at our knees and then to me, but I stared forward pretending not to notice them. It was like us silently saying something without saying it. Like if anyone were to notice they wouldn't look at us twice but we noticed. With him it was like everything was intentional.

The rest of the game Chris continued to eat the skittles and continued to hand me the green ones when he poured them out. We talked about how hockey was boring to watch but we were both forced to go to all the games.

We talked about Nate and their friendship and all the things Nate did to annoy Chris, but Chris loved him anyway. We talked about school and which teachers we hated. We talked about the students we thought were annoying and the students who we thought deserved more attention.

It was nice.

Talking to Chris causally about anything and everything because I could. There was no pressure, no temptations, because we were in public, even if that many people weren't even there. I wondered if Chris appricated this as much as I did. I smiled and looked down. I felt guilty I was barley even watching the game, before I knew it, it was the last quater.

"Was Nate upset that I stole you last night?" I asked looking at Chris. He looked over at me. "Are you kidding? He was dead asleep in my bed with a pile of food by the time I got inside, I had to sleep on the couch" Chris laughed. I smiled and shook my head.

Silence filled the air between us for a moment. It was the first time either one of us mentioned last night. I played with my bracelet and he looked down at my hands.

"Hey Chris?" I asked quietly, but he was already looking at me. I looked up at him. "Do you think what happened last night was wrong?" I asked softly. We just looked at each other. He looked at me like he was searching for an answer within himself, but also looking for mine. He bit his lip ring and looked down.

"I don't want you to think i'm a bad person Chris" I whispered, almost inaudible. "I don't think you're a bad person Y/n" He said back looking down at me. I looked at him, then back down quickly. "I'm sorry if I overstepped" He said. I bit my lip. "That's the problem Chris" I said looking up at him. He looked at me.

"I don't think you overstepped" I said shaking my head. "I wished-" I bit my lip and looked away from him. "I wished you had leaned forward" I whispered so quiet I didn't even know if he had heard me.

But the way his eyes burned into the side of my head, I knew he had. The whistle blew, making both our heads fly up. I stood up quickly and looked for Max on the ice. All of their heads hung low, I knew we had lost and I was barley paying attention.

I looked back down at Chris who's eyes hadn't left me. I shrugged off his jacket before holding it out for him, but his eyes didn't move towards the jacket, no they were locked on mine. "Take the jacket Chris" I whispered looking down at my feet.

He stood up, towering over me. I looked at him as he looked down at me with an unreadable expression. I swallowed. It was as if we were the only to people around, but we weren't. I turned my head and saw Max start to skate off the ice.

"Chris I don't know if I can control myself enough not to lean forward next time" I whispered looking towards him. He just looked at me. "Maybe we should create some distance? For a little while" I whispered. I choked out of my body, forcing myself to say it.

"I don't want to do that to him, I'm sorry" I whispered shaking my head and pushing the jacket into his chest and walking past him and down the bleachers. I didn't turn around to see his face as I walked down off the bleachers. My heart was beating out of my chest.

My head was so clouded I didn't even see where I was walking, I was just walking. I finally blinked when I saw Max. He smiled sadly at me. I felt my heart return to normal. I smiled back and walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him into a much needed hug.

"I'm mad" Max mumbled against me. "I know you are baby" I whispered back before finally letting him go. His hair was wet from sweat. I reached up pushing his hair out of his face. He smiled. "You played amazing" I said even though I didn't watch nearly two minutes of his game. "I didn't and you know that" He said looking down at me. I frowned. He glanced up towards the bleachers.

"Who were you sitting with?" He asked looking back at me. I felt my face flush white. This was the first time Max mentioned Chris to me. I looked back towards the bleachers, Chris was gone. I looked back towards him.

"Just some kid in my class" I shrugged. He just looked at me. I stared back at him, silently begging him not to push it. "Okay well, I have to go talk to coach really quick" He said leaning down and kissing the top of my head. I nodded and smiled up at him. He reached in his pockets and handed me the keys.

"Go wait in the car" He said turning and walking away. I let out a deep breath once he walked away. I couldn't help myself from looking around to my surroundings. How was Chris so good at disappearing? I sighed before walking towards Max's car.

Was I too harsh? I was being honest. I can't control myself around him, how am I ever suppose to be loyal to Max while also being Chris's friend? I can't do both. As much as I want to I can't. I put my hand on my forehead. This was all too much. I didn't know what to do.

"Labraut"

I quickly turned when I heard someone shouting my name. My heart dropped when I realized it was Chris walking up to me. His jacket still in his hands. He did not look happy. I swallowed as he approached me. My mind racing.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He asked as he stopped in front of me. I just looked up at him, while also glancing at the people making their way to their cars. I looked back up at him. "What?" I asked suddendly feeling my face go red.

"What you said. What does that mean?" He asked looking down at me. I couldn't tell if he was angry or genuinely confused at my statement. "I-I-" I tried to say as my eyes turned, searching for Max to walk out of the rink at any moment. "Y/n" He snapped my attention back to him. He glared at me.

"After everything, you just 'don't want to do that to him'?” He asked shaking is head. “You want to 'create distance'?" He asked furrowing his eyebrows at me. I swallowed looking up at him, closing my eyes.

"One minute you're telling me things you've told no one and the next your walking away and leave me thinking I might never see you again" He said shaking his head. I bit my lip and looked down.

"It's not fair. What you're doing-" He said closing his eyes and shaking his head. I just watched him. "I-" He sighed and looked up. "Fuck Y/n, I don't want to lose you" He said looking down at me. "And I-I don't know what you want from me" He said shaking his head.

"You walk away from me apologizing, then the next day you show up at my doorstep" He laughed lightly shaking his head, but nothing was funny.

"Chris you have to understand what position i'm in-" I started to say, but he stopped me. "Oh I understand completely what position you're in" He said hovering over me. I bit my lip and looked down, like a child being lectured by their parent when they know they've done something wrong. It's suffocating. It's deliberating.

"You just want to stay in the one that's the easiest for you" He whispered. I felt tears brim to my eyes. "Chris you know that's not true" I said looking up at him. He just stared down at me with a hurt expression. I turned my head when I heard footsteps and saw Max approaching us with a confused look on his face. I swallowed and looked at Chris.

"Don't act like i'm not the one you don't run to when shit gets bad for you" He said through gritted teeth before turning and walking away. I sighed and looked at the ground. I felt Max walk up to me and put his hand on my back.

"Is everything alright? Why was that kid talking to you?" He asked looking down at me. I swallowed, trying to contain my emotions. "Something about the homework" I lied. He looked off in the direction that Chris walked off in.

"Come on, get in the car. We've got a long drive" He said walking towards the drivers side.

tag list:

@rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld @flowerxbunnie @ilytrinsworld @lustfulslxt @kiarastromboli @gemofthenight @blahbel668 @haunted-headset @sturnybabes @bethsturn @d3adlyclassrat @sturnybabes @mattsbitch @chrisluvbot @nickenthusiast @sturniolossmut @biimpanicking @iloveneilperry @chalametbich @dsmja @bernardsleftbootycheek @lovingsturniolo @aoxash @idrkk-123 @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @babagurlrichey @d3adlyclassrat @iammattsturniolo @1201pm @urfavstromboli @that-chris-girl01 @lovingsturniolo @aoxash

#sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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reaveries · 1 year

Text

▬ 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲

gif credit to @robpattinsongifs (much higher resolution on their account)

summary: late-night visits from your definitely human boyfriend

pairings: edward cullen x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k (approximately 7 minutes reading time)

a/n: I’ve had this baby marinating in my drafts since January, when I was going through my bi-annual Twilight Renaissance. I was actually in the middle of writing a RE2R Leon Kennedy fic today and decided to put on a twilight playlist, and then I just knew I had to finish this one. It’s my first *published* non-RDR fic heehee (I have so much in my drafts, it’s insane). Anyways, enjoy (pardners)!

masterlist archive of our own

It’s that dreadful time of year again.

The sun is making its curtain call as students from the nearby elementary school trip over themselves running home. Little girls and boys have sticky remnants of lunch peeking from the corners of their mouths and the grass is still slick from morning showers. But dusk is impatient in February, and its eagerness is encouraged in a town hidden beneath perpetual overcast nine months out of the year.

The school children ran past her window minutes ago when the sky had been painted brilliant indigo. Now, when she looks up the only thing left to see is her own dark reflection and the warm orange glow from a candle on the sill. Its tall flame stutters, collapsing and rising with the damp breeze.

A page turns, disrupting the otherwise quiet room. The only other noise that can be heard is a soft pitter of water dripping onto the floorboards from a coat hanging off the closet door.

She reaches for a mug sitting on the corner of her nightstand and promptly sets it back down upon finding it empty. It returns to its spot atop crumpled receipts and library hold slips belonging to the growing stack of books accumulating dust at her bedside. These books tower over the permanent nightstand residents: lazily discarded beaded necklaces, a sample bottle of floral perfume from Christmas, two little ceramic bunnies purchased from an antique mall in Port Angeles last summer, car keys, and drugstore chapstick. It might be worth convincing her to let go of some of these post-object permanence discoveries, but that is a matter for another time.

In a desperate attempt to comprehend the words she’s reading, she rolls onto her back and extends her arms straight in the air so the book hovers a foot from her face—a change of perspective to freshen the mind.

It does not help.

No matter how much she shifts or squints, the antiquated prose remains stubbornly uninviting. She can’t fathom why anyone would willingly subject themselves to something so archaic and convoluted and furthermore, recommend it as one of their favorite novels.

With a huff, she adjusts the headphones at her ears, hoping the music will clear her mind. But despite her best efforts, the book slowly drifts closer to her chest and her eyelids grow heavier as the music lulls her into a dreamless sleep.

When she wakes to cold fingers grazing her jaw it’s impossible to tell whether she’d fallen asleep or if she just blinked. The weight of the headphones gently disappears as they’re pulled off and set down on the nightstand. She grumbles incoherently and stretches out her legs, not unlike a cat after a long, difficult day of lounging around. Her eyes begrudgingly flutter open and immediately find him only inches away. He’s watching her, peering down with a twinkle in his amber-colored eyes.

“Edward…” she whispers.

“Dracula,” he says, eyebrows raised as he makes the observation. “I thought you didn’t like Gothics.”

She reaches a finger into the book on her chest and folds the page over before tossing it carelessly into the sea of knitted and quilted blankets at the foot of the bed. With the haze of sleep still clouding her eyes, she smiles sheepishly up at him.

“I’m trying.”

He chuckles lightly and brings his hand to her hair again, brushing stray strands off her forehead and tucking them behind her ears before leaning down to place a chaste kiss above her eyes. Though his lips are soft, the icy touch of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. He’s always cold; a result of his anemia, he says. However, the downpour that's dampened his hair and clothes to his skin has chilled him even more so.

In an effort to sit up, she raises herself onto her elbows and catches a glimpse of the bright red digital numbers on her bedside clock.

“You’re late, you know,” she chides, watching him settle uncomfortably at the head of the bed. He sinks down among the pillows, their plushness contrasting humorously with the stiffness of his demeanor. He reaches behind his back and tugs free a stuffed rabbit lodged between him and the headboard, then sets it down softly beside himself.

“I had to make a quick stop. I hope you can forgive me,” he says in a hushed voice, so as not to make too much noise in the resting house. His eyes flit towards the nightstand and she follows them to see a new item sitting amongst the disorder. A tall styrofoam cup with steam rising thinly from the lid. Coffee.

The mug she just finished sits right beside it. She’d considered brewing more but that was before being rendered unconscious by Bram Stoker nearly an hour ago. Her heart swells at his thoughtfulness, but a more pressing question comes to mind before she can voice her gratitude.

“How did you even climb up here with that?” She asks, reaching for the cup with both hands.

“I’m very…agile.” There’s a look in his eyes that tells her there’s more to it, but she chooses to ignore it for now with a shake of her head.

The taste is immediately harsh, significantly more bitter than how she makes it herself. Any trace of a smile dissipates and is replaced with a pronounced look of disgust.

“Good God, Edward,” she exclaims. “Decaf? What did I ever do to you?”

He laughs and takes it from her hands, leaving her still reeling from the unexpected taste. “As much as I love staying up with you, you need sleep,” he says, a hint of sternness in his voice. “You didn’t get any last night and you don’t hide it well.”

He says the last part sweetly, tilting his head to the side and following her motions with his eyes, watching her pick up the stuffed rabbit by its cotton paw.

“Don’t hide it well?” She repeats, the indignation in her voice contrasting with the softness of the toy as she raises it high into the air and brings it down against his chest with a soft thud. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to hide anything if you—weren’t—keeping—me—up—all—night!”

With every word, the rabbit hits his forearms poorly attempting to shield himself from the blows. Edward grins as she attacks him, the soft toy barely making a sound against his arms. He watches as her hair falls across her face in the midst of the unrelenting attack, the warm glow of the candle casting a soft halo around her.

But then, his amusement fades as he sees the exhaustion in her eyes.

He gently takes the rabbit from her and sets it aside before grabbing her arm mid-swing and pulling her into his chest. She sighs heavily and surrenders, relaxing against him. "I’m sorry," he whispers, his lips brushing against her hair. “I’ll let you rest tonight.”

Despite his tender words, a residual half-baked frustration lingers inside her. “How did you manage to stay awake in class?” she mumbles into his sweater, the words muffled. “I mean, you didn’t get any sleep either.”

He chuckles, as if privy to some inside joke.

“Well, someone had to take your notes for you,” he says, his fingers trailing through her hair in a soothing motion. “And besides, you looked so peaceful drooling away.”

She looks up at him, a hint of a drowsy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I did not drool,” she insists.

He grins down at her, his eyes alight with fondness. “Of course not.”

She groans and buries her head into his chest, to which he responds by encircling his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“I’m never falling asleep in front of you again,” she grumbles.

His chest rumbles beneath her cheek as he laughs. “Alright, angel.”

He shifts his hand from the crown of her head to the curve of her back, tracing languid circles over the fabric of her t-shirt as the room fills with a comfortable silence. The rain outside grows heavier, tapping against the glass with a more insistent force. Her body is warm against his and he can feel the steady thumping of her heartbeat as if it's his own. A few minutes slip by, and he senses her breathing even out and deepen. Without disturbing her, he reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it over her, then turns his gaze to the candle on the windowsill.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, as the dwindling flame fades out of focus.

This is his favorite part of the day.

Vague arrays of soft, muted hues and shapes swirl around in his vision, overtaking the warm surroundings of her bedroom. They morph into recognizable figures after some time, and he can hear them speaking when he focuses. For the most part, they sound as if he’s underwater and they’re conversing on the shore. But every now and then, a clear phrase emerges.

Suddenly, the floating shapes assimilate into a figure resembling him and he realizes what this dream is. It’s a recurring one he’s particularly fond of. He settles in and pulls her closer as the scene ebbs between reality and distortions of the unconscious mind.

He can’t remember how he used to pass the night hours before he met her. Books, records, films--looking back, they feel hollow compared to nights spent like this. Part of him hopes he’ll never know what it's like to want for this. But these dreams, and her thoughts in the waking hours, assure him he won’t ever have to find out.

#twilight #twilight fanfic #edward cullen #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x reader #the twilight saga #twilight 2008

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wifelinkmtg · 1 year

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Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia

There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. - Lewis Carroll, “The Lobster Quadrille,”

ONE.

There is a moment early in H.P. Lovecraft’s 1931 novella The Shadow over Innsmouth where the nameless narrator looks out from the rotting seaside hamlet where he has lucklessly ventured, to the so-called Devil Reef some ways out in the harbor, darkened by a cloud of evil rumor—and something curious happens: the narrator experiences two opposed sensations simultaneously. The “long, black line” of the reef conveys “a suggestion of odd latent malignancy,” but also, “a subtle, curious sense of beckoning seemed superadded to the grim repulsion.” This bit of foreshadowing—the reef both calling and repelling the narrator—only finds its denouement at the very end of the story, after our narrator has narrowly escaped Innsmouth, the fish-like monsters who swarm in off of Devil Reef and their part-human descendants who inhabit the town in an unconvincing and repellent simulacrum of humanity. After his escape, the narrator does some genealogical research into his own troubled family history, full of disappearances and suicides, and concludes that he himself is one such abyssal hybrid. As he ages, he finds himself changing to resemble them, and in his dreams he swims among them in undersea palaces and gardens. The call of the deep becomes impossible to ignore:

So far I have not shot myself as my uncle Douglas did. I bought an automatic and almost took the step, but certain dreams deterred me. The tense extremes of horror are lessening, and I feel queerly drawn toward the unknown sea-deeps instead of fearing them. I hear and do strange things in sleep, and awake with a kind of exaltation instead of terror.

In the end, the narrator embraces the change and determines to flee to those oceanic depths, to live “amidst wonder and glory for ever.”

This is horror.

Something curious also happens in Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House. Our heroine, Eleanor Vance, flees an unhappy life with a loveless sister to a haunted house, to take part in a paranormal experiment with three new friends. The haunting proceeds predictably but effectively: labyrinthine corridors, voices, unearthly cold, banging on doors, the rare apparition. The participants find themselves see-sawing between increasing night-time terror and a strangely intense joie de vivre by day, until one night, as the house seems to shake itself down upon its terrified guests in a dizzying cataclysm, Eleanor breaks:

She heard the laughter over all, coming thin and lunatic, rising in its little crazy tune, and thought, No; it is over for me. It is too much, she thought, I will relinquish my possession of this self of mine, abdicate, give over willingly what I never wanted at all; whatever it wants of me it can have.

By the next line, it is abruptly morning. The terror has ceased; the house stands. Its manifestations, for Eleanor, become benign: an unseen figure catches her beside a brook,

and she was held tight and safe. It is not cold at all, she thought, it is not cold at all.

She is through the horror now, on the other side of something. She becomes part of the haunting. Her senses encompass the whole of the house. She runs unafraid through the house by night, banging on doors, laughing as she eludes the other guests. When they finally catch up to her, it seems clear to them that Hill House has crept into her, that she has crossed some line, and they decide the best course of action is to send her away, in the hopes that with time she will return to this side, the normal side, the human side.

Instead, faced with rejection behind her and her old unhappy life before her, Eleanor Vance steers her car into a tree. There are holes which admit passage in only one direction. This, too, is horror.

In the 2018 film Annihilation, Lena (played by Natalie Portman) crosses a literal barrier called the Shimmer into a dangerous yet beautiful alien landscape full of mutated creatures. During their journey deeper into this territory, Lena and her companions realize that they themselves are also changing under the alien influence. Some break under the realization. Some surrender to the change and vanish into the landscape. Lena alone returns from the heart of the phenomenon, but she is no longer herself. Is this still horror? The film has many horror elements to it, but in this last moment, as she embraces her similarly-transformed husband, it is something else.

Cyberqueen, a 2012 text game created by Porpentine, draws on a legacy of godlike malevolent artificial intelligences in fiction (AM, from Harlan Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream,” GladOS from the Portal games, and most importantly SHODAN from the System Shock series, who is cited as an inspiration eleven times in the Cyberqueen acknowledgements.) In this game, you awake from cryosleep on a colony spaceship where the shipboard AI has gone rogue. You fight her. You lose. You run. You are caught. You are forcibly cyberized, your mind surgically altered, your will brought into line with that of the AI. Finally, you kill or mutilate every other surviving human aboard the ship. It is filthily, overwhelmingly erotic throughout. (You can play it here, and I strongly recommend doing so if you have the stomach for it.)

This is no longer horror, is it? How can the same sort of transformation we encounter as horror in Lovecraft be encountered here as something to get off to? Well,

TWO.

I don’t remember now where I got the idea from, but there was a period in my childhood where I was terrified of the idea of time travel—specifically of the idea that someone in the future would invent it, travel to before I was born, and through the butterfly effect cause me to be born a girl instead. I used to lie awake at night circling the idea like a broken tooth. It was an irrational fear on multiple levels: I wasn’t afraid of being written out of the timeline through time travel, and I knew, intellectually, that in the timeline where I was born a girl I would have no memory of ever having been anything else, but even so, the horror of it caught me and held me by the throat.

This meant something, of course—in retrospect obvious, but at the time literally unimaginable, and it wasn’t until college, sitting at my computer in the dark in my dorm room at three in the morning, following the itching in my brain, that I unearthed alchemical knowledge: the transmutation of sex, male into female, in a dizzying profusion of form and process and—okay what I’m saying is I discovered forced feminization porn, yeah? It was revelatory. It was squalid. I was still Christian and couldn’t even bring myself to jerk off yet, so I sat there, the itch in my brain grown into a thunderous buzz, unable or unwilling to look away.

Forced feminization—I promise this is relevant—is the unwilling transformation of (usually) a man into (usually) a hyper-feminine woman, accomplished by a wide variety of means, including but not limited to blackmail, magic potions, nanite swarms, cursed artifacts, hacks or glitches in virtual reality programs, badly-worded wishes, industrial accidents, chemical leaks, abduction and surgery, medical malpractice, and hypnosis. You may notice that many if not all of these scenarios could be made into horror with little change, and in fact it is not uncommon for a poorly-written or over-ambitious forced-fem story to wind up as horror by accident (though of course this greatly depends on the tastes of the individual reader.)

(As an aside, I’d like to note that there is a great deal to learn from porn—not in terms of How to Do Sex, but about how the culture which produced it thinks about sex, and gender, and race and morality and technology and a host of other things. It’s a lot like popping the hood of a car and examining the engine. Sure, you wind up greasy and should probably wash your hands before you rejoin polite company, but if you don’t, you’ll never figure out the underlying issues. Actually, it’s a lot like horror in that regard.)

Let’s talk about a very different transformation I was undergoing at the same time: the loss of my faith. I was raised, as mentioned, very Christian—and in one of the worst strains of fundamentalist white American Evangelicalism. I was a true believer: the world for me was entirely divided between the faithful elect and the unbelievers, who must necessarily know the truth of the (fundamentalist white American Evangelical) gospel in their hearts, but had wilfully chosen to oppose Christ. The prospect of passing from the elect into the category of the unbeliever was unthinkable. The process of deconversion led only into the outer darkness and the weeping and gnashing of teeth.

And yet I found myself on that precipice anyway. The worldview of FWAE is not one which survives too much contact with the actual world, and I had chosen against my parents’ preferences to go to a secular university, the better to witness to the unsaved. In the end, the process I had been mortally afraid of consisted of a couple days’ agonized thought, unanswered prayer and tearful calls to my unresponsive parents and pastor, after which I emerged into a world much bigger and much more complex than the one I’d grown up in. The serpent had told the truth after all: I had eaten of the fruit, and had not died.

Okay: is this horror? Reader, forgive me for presupposing anything about your perspective, but you’re on a horny lesbian Magic: the Gathering card art review tumblr, so I’m going to assume that losing one’s hateful, fundamentalist faith is the opposite of horrifying to you. But it was, absolutely, horror to contemplate for someone on the other side of that process.

But then... is the horror of any given transformation only a matter of where you’re standing? If you read The Shadow over Innsmouth aware of Lovecraft’s profound racism, it becomes very, very obvious that the horror of Innsmouth is the specter of miscegenation. The narrator’s horrified cataloging of the facial features of the offspring of fishmen and humans, the South Pacific origin of the sea-devil-worship of Innsmouth brought back by an enterprising merchant captain, the fear of the unsuspected poison of one’s own ancestry lurking in one’s own blood: all of this is much less effective as horror for someone living in a country where interracial marriages are protected under law and seen as unproblematic in consensus morality (assume whatever asterisks are necessary for the complicated landscape of attitudes toward interracial relationships in the United States, please, I do not have the expertise or desire to get into it here.) My point is that since 1967 (asterisk asterisk asterisk), we are through to the other side of that horror, and it turns out there literally wasn’t anything to be afraid of. The pelagial palaces and terraced coral gardens of Y’ha-nthlei just sound beautiful to me.

And it’s hard for me—though I may be in the minority here—to view Hill House as the primary antagonist in Jackson’s novel. The true source of evil is all the things Eleanor runs from and therefore brings with her: her cruel, deceased mother, her exploitation and infantilization by her sister; as well as the final polite unwillingness of her new friends at Hill House to do anything but send her away once she goes inconveniently mad. These mundane ills are what sends Eleanor Vance careening into the tree, not the supernatural will of malignant architecture.

Here, then, is the better part of my thesis: transformation horror is something that can be traversed. You can come out the other end of a transformation unrecognizable to you-as-you-were, and yet still very much yourself. Moreover, it is this navigability, this double-sidedness which so closely links the horror of transformation to the eros of transformation. Not all transformation horror, passed through, becomes plainly erotic, but it is very often portrayed as a kind of seduction, and it is difficult for me to conceive of eros without some kind of change. Desire is a kind of transformation, is it not?

In fact, isn’t it true that a great many of us have already passed through such a transformation? Recall yourself as a child, as you were when you first learned about sex: wasn’t there something repellent and unhygienic about the idea? Wasn’t there a small horror in being told, you will change, and this will cease to be loathsome and become something you desire fervently, something you seek out, something you go to great lengths to experience? ...or were you, possibly, raised in a family & culture that was normal about sex and bodies? I admit I may be generalizing my individual neuroses to some extent here. Well, stet, at the very least you can see where I’m coming from.

THREE.

Returning for a moment to the subject of porn: why forced feminization, specifically? There are—you’re going to have to trust me here—no shortage of ways in the real world by which a man transforms into a woman, and very few of them involve coercion or all the horror-adjacent setup of, say, mind-control devices or vengeful curses. Why does a simple story of a willing gender transition fail to function as erotica? Why did it take stories of unwilling transformation for me to learn I was transgender? What’s the juice ne sais quoi at play in forced-fem?

Well, how does Luke Skywalker come to leave Tatooine? He gets a mysterious message from a princess, a desert wizard tells him to come help rescue her, and... he says no. He has obligations to family here, a job to do, power converters to bring back from Tosche Station. He is enmeshed in a social web, like all of us: it surrounds us, penetrates us, binds the galaxy together and so forth. So in order for Luke to go on grand adventures, the story needs to murder his aunt and uncle and sever those threads of social obligation.

Joseph Campbell, monomyth monomane that he was, would say this is “Refusing the Call” and find it in Jungian shadow on every cave wall, signifying something important in the heart of humanity, but really this is just a useful storytelling tool: a story needs change, but a virtuous protagonist cannot simply abandon their obligations and designated social role to go gallivanting off into space, so change must be forced upon them.

The bodice-ripper romance novel, the rape fantasy, the forced feminization story are all operating on a similar premise: you are so wrapped in society’s web, in your socially-dictated identity, that you cannot even acknowledge your desires on the level of conscious thought. When these things are enacted on your body, you will find yourself changed by the experience. You will love what has been done to you, and you remain blameless, since it’s not as though you sought this out.

These are liberatory fantasies. The lack of consent is precisely what allows you to move beyond what is permitted you into something new.

Incantation Against Bad-Faith Interpretation because I, a transsexual, just called rape fantasies “liberatory”: I am talking about fantasies, I am talking about why people fantasize about having their consent violated, I am talking about the role such fantasies play and what they can tell us about horror and desire. I am not advocating for real people to have real bad things done to them in real life, fuck off, End of Incantation.

So then, we’ve assembled the full thesis: transformation horror is traversible to the other side, and is inextricably linked to transformation erotica, both because of the seduction of transformation in horror and because the horror of transformation unlocks regions of desire which would otherwise have remained inaccessible.

Okay, now we can talk about Phyrexia.

FOUR.

I hear the roar of the big machine / Two worlds and in between / Hot metal and methedrine / I hear empire down

- The Sisters of Mercy, “Lucretia My Reflection”, from Floodland

Phyrexia is many things—a world, another world, a faction, a kind of creature—but I think it can most succinctly be understood as a virulently contagious biomechanical body horror cult dedicated to the ultimate incorporation of all things into itself. It’s a bit like Star Trek’s the Borg, if the Borg had any style whatsoever. It draws heavy inspiration from H. R. Giger’s work—some Phyrexian horrors are barely-altered versions of the xenomorph from Alien—as well as from Clive Barker’s Cenobites in Hellraiser, whose alien BDSM schtick is especially influential on the aesthetic of New Phyrexia. It is transmitted through glistening oil, an infection vector capable of reshaping bodies and minds, and given enough time, whole worlds. The process by which a being is made into a Phyrexian, “compleation,” is accomplished via glistening oil exposure, surgery, cyberization, and brainwashing.

This essay is in many ways a response to Rhystic Studies’ latest video, called “Phyrexia is Hell”. I think it’s a well-made video, as is true of all Sam Gaglio’s work, and a lot of it is really good—the overview of the nearly-thirty-year history of depictions of Phyrexia in Magic: the Gathering art is invaluable, and the stuff about the Phyrexian conlang is unbelievably cool—but the way he identifies Phyrexia one-to-one with a pretty facile understanding of transhumanism leads him to confused and frankly silly conclusions, like placing Phyrexian compleation on the same continuum with cosmetic orthodontics. Like,

Mandible Justiciar (art by Mike Franchina)

Phyrexia is perfectly happy for you to have teeth in your arms instead of your head! They don’t care about the narrow ideal of a conventionally-attractive human smile. This is a whole other thing.

Now, I don’t want to come down too hard on Gaglio here for a couple of reasons: one, he is very good at what he does (see his videos Understanding Sagas and Red Deck Wins, for example); two, it’s reasonable to say that a full understanding of transhumanism is beyond the scope of a video essay about the tiny pictures on cards for dweebs; and three, most importantly, because I see people make this same mistake all the time. People focus on the things that are textually true about Phyrexia and miss the tension between that and the very different things currently being said by the Phyrexian aesthetic. They miss the razorverge thicket, as it were, for the mycosynth trees.

For instance: it is textually the case that Phyrexia is a sort of fascist cult stemming from the depraved machinations of a dead eugenicist god. Contrast, however, other fascist factions in science fiction: the Imperium of Man from Warhammer 40K worships a massive Aryan god-emperor übermensch, its battles are fought by nine-foot-tall genetically-engineered supersoldiers, and it slaps either skulls or chainsaws on every available surface. The Galactic Empire from Star Wars has legions of identical, uniform stormtroopers. Even the Borg all look alike. Phyrexians talk of ideal perfection of form and then make ten thousand completely different monsters. Phyrexians talk of perfect unity and splinter into nearly a dozen factions who can’t even agree on a name for what they’re trying to accomplish. Other fictional fascisms don’t do this—sure, there’s internal contradiction, as in real fascism, but the core aesthetic remains recognizably, sometimes indistinguishably fascist. You can easily find terminally-online Nazis using Warhammer 40K lingo with that peculiar sincerity which is indistinguishable from irony when you’ve decided the truth doesn’t matter, but it would be a lot harder to find some alt-right bozo going all-in on the Glory of Phyrexia. The aesthetic is all wrong, and fascism’s aesthetic is one of its few consistent features.

Mondrak, Glory Dominus (art by Jason A. Engle)

You see what I mean? The aesthetic evokes a sort of alien fascism, but the art itself would be considered “degenerate” by actual fascists.

Tamiyo’s Immobilizer (art by Daren Bader)

This is much, much closer to Mapplethorpe than to Riefenstahl. And people respond to Phyrexia similarly! The body horror and grotesquerie make them uncomfortable, and then they try to moralize that discomfort. This has been happening at the very least since 2011 with the release of New Phyrexia, and I have seen people on Tumblr arguing in total sincerity that people who are into Phyrexia are making themselves susceptible to real-life cult recruitment (again, the heterogeneity of form in Phyrexia is incompatible with the enforced uniformity of cults and other high-control groups. The appeal of Phyrexia does not translate into real-life cults.)

So, okay, what is the appeal of Phyrexia? Well, you get a sick fuckin cyborg body, is what. Many of us, for various reasons (disability, disease, gender, and so forth) find ourselve intensely dissatisfied with our own bodies, and wanting to radically alter them. Many of us already have. Yes, you surrender your humanity when you are compleated, but we know first-hand that “humanity” is socially-constructed and contingent on certain kinds of conformity. We’ve had our humanity doubted, interrogated, stripped away. We’ve done without. It’s not too high a price to pay, if we get to look like this at the end:

Vraska, Betrayal’s Sting (art by Chase Stone)

I’d even argue that getting to reject humanity as it has rejected you is part of the appeal of compleation. This isn’t quite transhumanism; I might call it exhumanism: the freedom to unearth a way of being that is no longer being human. This is why compleation is coercive, remember? The fantasy allows you to get to this point without making the unimaginable decision to reject not only your individual social obligations, but the idea that you could owe anyone or everyone any kind of social conformity simply for having been born into your species—and then you get to be a cool and powerful cybergorgon.

This, then, is why I don’t blame someone like Sam Gaglio (who is to the best of my knowledge both cisgender and able-bodied) for not really getting what’s going on with Phyrexia. He lives on the before side of the horror of transformation; he’s never had to cross over.

In fact, I’d go one step further here. Phyrexia has existed for almost thirty years, and in that time it’s changed quite a bit. Gaglio quotes an article by Rob Bockman in Hipsters of the Coast which comments on how the shift in the depictions of Phyrexia from 1994 to 2000 reflected shifts in cultural fears over time. The Satanic Panic shaded into multidirectional Y2K anxieties, and the necromancy of original Phyrexia mutated into technological horror. This is what effective horror does: it reflects the fears of its age back to us.

Today, Phyrexia is a seductive, corrupting influence. They have figured out how to compleat planeswalkers—the protagonists of Magic storylines; named, important characters (and Lukka)—which was previously thought impossible. Characters we knew and loved (and Lukka) are seduced, brainwashed, bodily violated, surgically altered, and returned to us unrecognizable. It is not coincidental that this version of Phyrexia is concurrent with the worst wave of anti-transgender legislation to hit the United States in decades—legislation which plays on the specters of the transsexual bathroom predator and on the brainwashed child transitioner, on the idea that transsexuality is a form of social contagion we must protect our children from even learning about. The horror of Phyrexia in its current incarnation is a mirror of our cultural fear of transsexual bodies.

Irreversible Damage: the Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters (art by Lauren K. Cannon)

I want to be very clear here—actually, one moment, my extremely funny Abigail Schrier joke notwithstanding, I do need to tell you that the actual name of the above card is “Furnace Punisher”, which is just peak Phyrexia—I want to be clear that I am not ascribing any kind of malice or antipathy towards trans people, either intentional or unconscious, to Wizards of the Coast or the people who make Magic: the Gathering. I would be shocked if anyone there set out to make Innsmouth-style horror about transsexuals. Nor am I upset that they kind of have! Something being fun and interesting is way more important to me than whether or not it’s problematic, and it’s not like I haven’t seen way more vicious horror about transsexuals. We’ll laugh about this someday, in the coral gardens of Y’ha-nthlei, and you’ll wonder what you were ever so afraid of.

In fact, this is another reason why Phyrexia is so appealing to people like us: we are a kind of social contagion. We are carriers for the viral idea that modes of being outside patriarchy and the nuclear family exist; that gender is a marketing demographic, not an ontological truth; that damn near everything about the world we’ve built is not a necessary fact but a social construct contingent upon a half-dozen other social constructs. A new world grows from many, many seeds, and this one germinates in us.

Anyway! What were we talking aboFIVE.

//please state your name for the record

bone-wife / spit-dribbler / understudy for the underdog / uphill rumor / fine-toothed cunt

- Franny Choi, “Turing Test”, from Death by Sex Machine

Elesh Norn, Grand Cenobite (art by Igor Kieryluk)

There is a gravitational pull this painting exerts on people. Even people who don’t get Phyrexia find themselves drawn in, find it difficult to look away (e.g. 26:30 in that Rhystic Studies video.) I have for a long time maintained that Elesh Norn is the hottest character in Magic, and that Kieryluk’s portrayal of her is the best art in Magic, and neither of these opinions are particularly surprising coming from me. What is surprising is just how many people also converge on Miss Multiverse’s-Most-Fuckable-Pyramid-Head as, not just a sex icon of Magic: the Gathering, but the sex icon.

Well, or is it? Giant anchor-shaped porcelain mask aside, her silhouette is more or less that of a painfully-thin woman; she stands fully twelve feet tall, and we remember how wild everyone went over Resident Evil: Village’s woman who was only three-quarters of that; and though not an artificial intelligence herself, it’s hard not to place her somewhere in the Cyberqueen lineage. Like SHODAN, like GladOS, like Cyberqueen, she exerts a near-omnipotent level of control over (part of) her world; like them, she is a megalomaniacal egotist (though she cloaks her egotism in piety); like them, she is happy to render you more useful to her via surgery, brainwashing, or deadly neurotoxin. Her mask obscures where her eyes would be, and if I’ve learned anything from a decade of playing or mostly watching other people play the various Dark Souls games, it’s that people go apeshit for character designs without visible eyes (see also: the xenomorph from Alien; I did a whole thing on this subject somewhere back in the Wifelink archive.) So you’ve got a 12′ nigh-omnipotent eyeless dominatrix mostly shaped like a skinny woman, which is maybe pushing a whole lot of buttons at once for a lot of people.

As a character, we don’t know much about her: at some point, she became undisputed leader of the Machine Orthodoxy, the cultiest bit of New Phyrexia. At a later point, she became the extremely-disputed leader of New Phyrexia as a whole. She likes long walks on the beach and multiversal Phyrexian dominion, you get it. There is, however, one good story featuring her, and it is “A Garden of Flesh” by Lora Gray (sorry to give you additional reading in a five-thousand-word essay.) The story is interesting because it is the rare story told from a Phyrexian point of view, and because it flies in the face of many of our assumptions about Phyrexian interiority. Phyrexians, we’re told, lack souls. They’re unfeeling, more machine than man. They most certainly don’t dream.

“A Garden of Flesh” is what happens when Ashiok, planeswalker architect of nightmares and an eyeless smokeshow in their own right, gets curious about whether they can induce nightmares in a Phyrexian mind. What follows is a curiously-effective piece of body & transformation horror, told from the point of view of what is supposed to be the awful endpoint of transformation horror. What does a perfect, powerful biomechanical creature fear? The organic, soft, spongy. Putrefaction. Decay. What does such a creature fear becoming? Human.

I didn’t devote a fifth of this essay to Elesh Norn just because she’s unbelievably hot (although dayenu), but because of this story, and how it complicates our thesis. The horror of transformation is traversible, yes, but what will you find on the other side? More transformation. More horror. And transformation is inevitable: who of us are who we expected to be? Who of us still hold dear the precious things of childhood? And even you few who are raising your hands right now, you too will experience transformation. Should you live long enough, you will find yourself changing. Your body and mind will grow rebellious, unreliable. You will grow old. You will decay.

And yet—it’s a matter of perspective, of where you weight your focus, isn’t it? There will always be more transformation and more horror, but there will always be a way through it. There will always be another shore upon the other side. You will change. You will become unrecognizable to who you were before. You will be fine.

Incompleat Bibliography & Further Reading/Viewing/Playing

Rhystic Studies, “Phyrexia is Hell”, 2023. H. P. Lovecraft, The Shadow over Innsmouth, 1931. Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House, 1959. Alex Garland, Annihilation, 2018. Harlan Ellison, “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”, 1967. Ken Levine, System Shock 2, 1999. —never played it myself. Mostly I just open up a youtube video of SHODAN voice lines when I want to get belittled by an AI dominatrix. Valve, Portal 2, 2011. —there is a lot more to be said about GladOS and Elesh Norn specifically and their respective fraught relationships with the idea of their own humanity. Porpentine Charity Heartscape, Cyberqueen, 2012. —whence my chapter header screenshots. Seriously, this game fucks so hard. Franny Choi, Death by Sex Machine, 2017. —Choi is making extensive use of cyborg metaphor to address the specific experience of being a Korean-American woman. This is very different from anything I’m talking about, but it also always felt extremely relevant to me as a trans woman. Subaltern-to-subaltern communication. Lora Gray, “A Garden of Flesh,” 2022. —it’s no accident that the author of the one good story told from a Phyrexian POV is nonbinary. hbomberguy, “Outsiders: How To Adapt H.P. Lovecraft In the 21st Century”, 2018. Jacob Geller, “Who’s Afraid of Modern Art: Vandalism, Video Games, and Fascism”, 2019. Caitlín R Kiernan, The Drowning Girl: A Memoir, 2012. —only tangentially relevant, except insofar as it recontextualizes the Lewis Carroll line I open the essay with, and insofar as it is my favorite novel and I’m writing the bibliography. Debatable whether it counts as transformation horror, and I imagine the author would bridle at its being described as horror, but nevertheless: you should read this book.

#magic the gathering #phyrexia

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delicateflowerss · 9 months

Text

Don't Worry, Darling: Eight

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of drugging, choking, vomiting, mentions of murder, dark!Rafe, mentions of a gun, mention of drugs, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Just one more chapter! Excited to be getting near the end, enjoy <3

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist

Ice cold fingers dig into the searing heat of your skin. His hold on your neck is tight, making you gasp for air as his hand has the strength to stop you from breathing all together.

You can feel his weight on top of you, more suffocating than him choking you to death. He pushes himself inside you, over and over again. You want to stop him, but it’s impossible for you to use your breath to say anything.

Sandalwood hangs heavy in the air, mixing with his musk. Through the darkness, you can’t make out your assailant.

You want to call out, not only to stop him, but to get help from the first person your mind can think of. The man you still feel instinctively safe with.

Except, the man above you finally speaks. He tries to comfort you, soothing you from how he’s hurting you.

And then you realize that the man raping you and the man you are trying to find refuge in are the same.

You open your mouth to scream but instead you’re ripped from the nightmare, waking up with a gasp on your lips.

You look around your dark bedroom, only to find your husband sleeping soundly beside you.

You stare at him for a moment, the nightmare still floating around in your head.

You’re not sure whether the nightmare was tapping into your fears only located in your subconscious, or if it truly meant something.

It’s been about a week since you found out you’re pregnant. The news turned your world upside down. After you left the doctor’s office, you just sat in your car awhile, not stopping the tears from falling.

You thought about what it means for your life now and how it could’ve even happened. Even before the disarray with Rafe, you didn’t want a baby just yet.

So, with everything happening…how can you bring a baby into this mess?

But you knew how upset Rafe would be if you told him, you didn’t want the baby.

And all you’ve been doing for the last few weeks is trying not to upset him.

So, when he got home from work that day, you gave him the news.

He didn’t say anything at first and you worried that you got it wrong. That maybe he changed his mind, and a baby would only add to the stress.

Then, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. He kissed you and you could tell he was elated about it.

But it faltered when he noticed that your mood didn’t exactly match his.

“I just thought we were being careful,” you told him.

You were sitting on a dining room chair, your hands in your lap. He bent down to look at you better, his hands gently finding yours.

“We were,” he said as a matter of fact. “But accidents happen. And I mean, we haven’t really been able to keep our hands off each other lately,” he added with a smirk.

He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you, he means.

“What matters is we’re going to have a baby. We’re finally going to be a family.” He couldn’t hide his excitement even if he tried.

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest at his words. But as you looked into his eyes, trepidation filled yours.

Even now as you watch his chest rise and fall in his sleep, the feeling that he’s lying is one you can’t ignore any longer.

Before you can think about it anymore, you can feel your stomach twist into knots, bile starting to rise.

You jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

You’re not sure how much longer you can bear this sickness. You’re told it should only last the first trimester, but it could last the whole pregnancy if you’re unlucky.

You don’t hear him walk up behind you, but you feel the comforting weight of his hand on your back as he rubs circles into your shirt.

Even if you wanted to, you don’t think you have the strength to push him away.

The phone call came unexpectedly.

It’s true that you got behind on editing for clients. But you thought you were okay. You were just starting to get back into finishing them.

You were actually making yourself a snack before resuming your work on a new book. But now there’s no reason to keep going.

“They’re called deadlines for a reason, Y/N.” Your boss’s voice rings out.

“I know, and I apologize, Mr. Samuels. It’s just a lot has been going on lately and…I recently found out that I’m pregnant.”

You can hear him sigh.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But you knew from the beginning how important it is to meet deadlines, especially with how fast paced things are in the publishing world.”

You want to stop the words from coming out of his mouth, but you can’t. All you can do is listen.

“We have to let you go. I’m sorry. I wish you the best with the baby,” he says before hanging up.

Rafe finds you on the couch, still crying, even hours later.

He says your name with worry and fear.

Not even a moment later, he’s trying to wipe your tears away.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

All you can do is shake your head as you sit up.

“Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong,” he tries again.

You sniffle as you try to blink away anymore tears.

“They fired me,” you finally say, as if your mouth is filled with glue, struggling to get the words out.

He keeps his gaze away from you, putting a hand on your knee, trying to soothe you yet again.

You wonder if you’ll ever get sick of it.

Maybe you already are.

“Did they say why?”

Now it’s your turn to look somewhere else. You bite your lip instead of answering.

Rafe sighs before telling you, “Maybe this is a good thing.”

He gets your attention with those words. He immediately continues at your furrowed brow.

“All that work and stress isn’t good for the baby. Now you’ll have more time to relax.”

It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying.

You scoff, “you’ve never liked me working. I’m sure this makes you happy.”

“No,” he argues. “I’m just trying to see the bright side of this, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. There’s no point in fighting with him about this. It’s not like this is his fault.

So, you just nod.

“I’m going to start dinner. You’re probably hungry.”

That’s all you say before leaving the room.

You thought the chaos would end there. You’ve been dealt one blow after another. So, maybe it was naïve for you to think things could ever calm down.

It starts with a segment on the news.

You had the TV on while you were vacuuming, barely able to hear the voices over the loud noise of cleaning the rug.

But when you catch a glimpse of the floating words under the reporter, you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.

You fumble as you try to turn off the vacuum as fast as you can before turning up the TV.

“The only information we have as of right now is a body was found earlier today, spotted by local fishermen. Based on eyewitness reports, it is a male in his mid to late twenties. Kildare County Police Department is refusing to comment at this time. We hope to…”

You almost end up puking on the rug you just cleaned, but you’re able to run to the kitchen. The poison spills from your lips into the sink.

You’re not sure when the tears started, but your retching turns into sobs as you collapse onto the floor.

You’re going to jail for helping to cover up a murder and all you can think about is what your parents will think.

The whole island will know what a horrible human being you are.

Anyone you have ever loved will never look at you the same.

Besides Rafe, you suppose.

Why doesn’t your love for him have any boundaries?

If only it did, you wouldn’t be throwing your whole life away.

This whole time you thought you were scared of Rafe, but really, you’re scared of your love for him.

He has a hold on you that made it so easy for you to throw away your morals, choosing his violence over your peace.

You barely hear him get home, closing the front door like he’s afraid someone will burst in at any second.

He’s off early from work, but you wouldn’t know that since you haven’t left your spot on the cold kitchen floor.

You don’t notice the guilt that washes over his face when he sees you because it’s gone as quickly as it’s there.

“We have to go, Y/N,” he says while reaching his arms out, trying to get you off the floor.

You ignore him, sobs still erupting from you.

“We’re going to jail, Rafe. They know. They know everything…”

Another gut-wrenching cry falls from your lips as your eyes screw shut.

“That’s why we gotta leave, alright?”

He’s finally able to pull you off the floor, guiding you upstairs with a tight grip.

“We’re gonna get out of this, baby. Just stop crying, please,” he placates.

You’re finally able to calm yourself down, a sob still trying to get free every now and then.

You realize what he’s doing when he starts throwing clothes into an empty suitcase.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to pack?” His appeasing tone is gone, irritation replacing it.

It takes you a moment to find your voice.

“Rafe, what are you doing? We can’t leave.”

“What other choice do we have?”

You follow him into his office.

“I’m not spending the rest of our lives running. Especially when we’ll have a baby soon.”

You try to convince him to change his mind.

He doesn’t stop to look at you, rummaging through the drawers of his desk. Your mouth twists up when a small bag of coke falls onto the wooden surface.

As much as it upsets you, it almost makes you nostalgic for a time when Rafe’s addiction was the only dark cloud lingering over your relationship.

Now, there’s too many to count.

“Flush it,” he demands, pointing to the bag.

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes before you trudge over to grab it.

At least Rafe knows he can’t bring that with him.

You don’t want to have to say goodbye to your life, to the island you’ve always called home.

But you really don’t want to go to prison.

You’re still standing there, staring out your bathroom window after the drugs are long gone, flushed down the toilet.

It hits you how much you want your parents, wishing they could swoop in and fix everything like they could when you were a child.

It also hits you that the human growing inside you will expect the same thing from you and Rafe one day.

Except, you know they deserve so much better than what either of you could offer.

A thunderous noise echoes throughout the house, followed by a man’s voice.

You can still hear him yelling when you run to find Rafe.

“What are you doing?” you yell, seeing him loading a gun.

“They’re coming for us.”

“Are you stupid? You’re going to get yourself killed.”

You could hear them pounding on the door. They’re coming in any second, you know it.

You gently grab his wrist.

“Just do the right thing for once. Rafe, please,” you lightly say.

You stare into his blue eyes, and it feels like time has stopped, stretched thin before the inevitable happens.

His jaw ticks and you think he’s not going to listen to you.

But as the door bursts open, he drops the gun onto his desk.

He gives you a quick but bruising kiss before he steps into the hallway.

Everything that comes after is a blur.

The police let him walk downstairs, their guns pointed at him before cuffing him.

Not only do they arrest him, taking him to a police car. But they have a search warrant. They’re allowed to look anywhere they want to. Men you’ve never met before get to go through your things, creating a mess in their trail.

At least they don’t arrest you.

You expect them to, but instead they ask you tons of questions. You tell them how Rafe came home early from work, frantic about needing to leave. You were confused as he wouldn’t tell you anything.

You decide to feign ignorance. That’s a better way of saying you lie right to their faces.

But you’re not just protecting yourself anymore.

Now you wait at the police station, leg shaking and fingers fidgeting with the light sweater you have on.

You can hear Ward and his lawyer speaking to Shoupe, voices being raised every once in a while.

They’re charging Rafe with first-degree murder. As of right now, only for Jake’s murder. They still don’t have enough evidence to charge him with Chase’s, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they found something soon.

They booked him in the county jail where he’ll be until his trial. Unless Ward can negotiate bail.

You thought something like this happening would ease your guilt about the situation. But instead, you feel more lost than you have in a while.

Can you really spend the rest of your life without Rafe? Raise his child all on your own.

You hear a door open, and slam shut, Ward leaving the sheriff’s office with a look of annoyance.

He sits in the chair next to you, brushing his forehead with his hand before turning to you with a forced tight-lipped smile.

“How you holdin’ up?”

All you do is nod, giving him a tight-lipped smile back.

“We’re working on bailing him out. It might take a while, but we’ll do our best so he’s home before the trial.”

You decide it’s best not to say anything, unsure of whether you want Rafe away from you or with you. It’s been a battle of these feelings for the longest time now.

You just want it to stop.

“From what I can tell, the only thing they have on him is the weapon. All the DNA on the body was washed away in the ocean,” he explains.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye like he’s waiting for you to say something.

His casualty almost makes it seem like he’s aware that you’ve known about the murders longer than just today.

You’re not sure if it has to do with your calmness about the situation or if Rafe told him. If it is your calmness to blame, it’s really defeat that it’s being mistaken for.

“Thanks, Ward,” you quietly say. “I’m sure Rafe would appreciate this.”

“Well, it’s not just about Rafe. It’s about you too.”

You stare at him with a question in your eyes as you can feel your heart start to beat faster.

Is this about you helping Rafe?

“I want you to know you’re taken care of. That I always look out for my family. And you’re family, now more than ever.”

You squint your eyes still not understanding.

“Rafe told me you’re pregnant.”

You move your eyes to your lap before replying, “oh. We were going to wait to tell you.”

“I know,” he immediately says. “I know. I was supposed to act surprised when you told the family.” He chuckles a little. “But given the situation…”

He swallows, looking away for a second.

“I just know how much you need him right now. And whatever happens…I want you to know that I’m here for you. Rose is here for you. We’re all here for you.” He pauses, sincerity filling his eyes.

“I don’t want to say it, but if things don’t go the way we want with Rafe, I know leaving may seem like a good idea. But that baby is a light that will brighten the darkness that surrounds us now. We all need it. Even Rafe,” he adds.

Sometimes when you talk to Ward, it feels like he knows what you’re thinking.

Some people might like that. But not you.

You understand he’s Rafe’s father, but the fact that Rafe already told him about you being pregnant doesn’t sit right with you.

What else have they been talking about?

“It’s getting late. You should get home, get some rest. I’ll figure things out. I’ll get him home to you, Y/N.”

“Yes. Thank you, Ward. Try and get some rest too,” you tell him with a sweet smile that drops when you leave his sight.

When you get home, it looks like a tornado has been through it. All the time you’ve spent keeping it looking good has now been ruined by a bunch of men in uniforms.

You decide to ignore it all and go right to your bedroom, hoping to get the rest that your father-in-law was talking about.

When you see the state of it, you end up dropping your purse on the floor with a heavy sigh.

There is no rest in sight for you.

You start to tidy things up, putting clothes back in drawers, and fixing the pillows on the bed.

When the room looks clean enough, you head to the bathroom, finding everything scattered on the counter.

You quickly begin to put things back in drawers and in the medicine cabinet.

Until your thumb catches on a loose label on one of the pill bottles.

You think it’s one of the drugs that Rafe was prescribed a little while ago for headaches. But the label with the name of the drug is peeling back, another label under it.

You tear it off, brow furrowing when you see a name of a drug you don’t recognize. You find your phone and search up the name.

You can’t stop your bottom lip from trembling when you read what it’s for.

Why does Rafe need pills that put you to sleep, leaving you foggy and with possible memory-loss.

And why was he hiding it?

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica @lovedetlost @kkmstblog @whorefordrew @gillybear17 @alinaharlow @nichmeddar @coriellesmarya @rafeslovergirl @hysteriahall @loves0phelia @igotmessymind @djconde58 @imsorare @bbqsauceonmyt1tties @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @malfoytargaryen @craftyalmondghostflap @maggiec @fulla02 @starkeylover @brunetteonearth @lovurry @ohemgeewhat @babyspice6 @lmg-stilinski24 @f4ll-for-you @deems-16 @rgeraldg @ellabellabus07 @mryneedend @gills-lounge @klips118

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist for this series!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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sentient-cloud · 5 months

Text

Hey, me, again. I’ve been putting this off as long as I can, I’m well aware I have an unfortunate history of coming in here and begging for money, my only excuse is when you’re down it’s really hard to get back on your feet. I know every single time I’ve promised it will be the last, but I do plan on it being the last every time.

But. I’m scared about loosing our room again. My mom, me, and our cat are homeless, have been for a while. We’ve been living in hotel rooms for a bit because it’s impossible to save up for a house while paying off a hotel to have a roof over your head. But my mom’s been out of work for two weeks now, she’s been in the hospital dealing with heart failure and I still don’t know when she’s going to be able to come home. It’s December and very cold here, and she can’t recover from this sleeping in our car when it’s freezing, our cat can’t live like that, and we’d lose all of our belongings and food. I promise we’re looking into resources in our area, the shelters are all full and don’t allow cats, and a lot of the rental assistances in this area only will help with certain hotels that don’t allow pets, or don’t help with hotels at all.

I understand this is a very very hefty ask, but for two weeks for the hotel, enough to make up for the missed work, it’s $800. This is the cheapest hotel in this area and we already have a deal on it, we can’t lose it. And my mom can’t recover from this in our car in 30 degree weather. I’m getting scared.

At this point I’m scared enough to buckle down and make this post. I’m extremely extremely sorry for this.

Update on this The next paycheck is the first, but after that things should be back smooth to normal, thank you all so so much I can not stress this enough. Update on here too, my mom’s home safe, on a lot of medication, but safe for now

Ok edit well. . Never mind. Thank you 😭 editing this asap so people like. Know I’m ok I don’t want to be asking for more than we absolutely need. Thank you so so so so much holy shit

#mutual aid #i’m sorry

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jhoneybees · 2 months

Note

Hi! i read your other Elvis oneshots

can you make one with early 70s elvis

him and the reader just had a baby, and he doesn’t really help and it turns into this whole big argument. and one day the reader finds him singing the baby to sleep?

idk random though😭

This idea is real sweet :( And I love random ideas! Thank you for requesting 💞☺️

Realization

Characters: Early 70s!Elvis X wife!reader

Warnings/triggers: arguments, crying, avoiding Elvis

_____________________________________________

It is known that it’s the wife’s job to take care of the children while the husbands go out to work but something that you never got as a child was having a father who was present, there for you when you needed one most and you don't want your newborn baby to go through that as well.

You understand that people have very busy schedules and can’t exactly pause their lives to make you feel happy and satisfied and you definitely understand that Elvis is one of those people but his schedule is ten times as busy.

But he could at least try to make time for your child, right?

“Honey, you know my schedule is hectic all the time. '' Elvis exhaled as he placed his glass of bourbon down on the kitchen island. Keeping his head lowered with hands set on the cold marble “Yes Elvis, I know…but- you have to understand that he is our son…we brought him into this world together and-” your eyes lift up “We gotta raise him together, Darlin’ I understand that but again my work is go go go all the time and it’s hard enough as it is…makin’ time for Jesse is almost goddamn near impossible these days'' Elvis replies sharply, your breath being caught in your throat “You can at least try…” your voice soft and quiet.

His eyes shifting to look at you as you look down at your fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt “Try? Y/n you know damn well I try” pushing himself off with his hands “You don’t think I do?” bringing his hands up to rest on his hips “Try to make time to spend with my family? Honey- I hafta fight with the colonel every damn time to get away from the studio to be with you…” you gulp “Elvis I-” he stopped you with a lifted finger “I give you everything, anything you could ever want, Jewellery, clothes, cars, I ain't only working for the fans, Y/n, I’m working to make sure you and now Jesse to have the best life you could ever have and that’s final-” his words came to a halt as you cut in “I don't want all of that, I just want you to be present and be here for Jesse! Is that so hard to ask?!” Elvis' eyes grew with fire and as he was about to say something “I don't want my kids to not have a father figure-” your voice started to break and tears brimming in your eyes, silently shaking your head “Honey-”

“I DON'T WANT THAT!”

Elvis' eyes flinched at the sudden outburst and watched as you stormed out of the kitchen.

_____________________________________________

After what had happened a few weeks ago, it still made your heart sting. You didn't mean to yell at him like that, you just wanted to get your words across.

To possibly make him realise.

You're ashamed of yourself and as much as you cherish the moments of falling asleep with Elvis in your shared bed, you can't bring yourself to even look at him to which you insist on sleeping on the couch, leaving Elvis in the large bed alone.

_____________________________________________

“Darlin’ you don't gotta sleep on the couch, it ain't comfy-”

“Go to bed, I'm sleeping here”

_____________________________________________

He was right, the couch isn't comfortable but you just don't want to be in the same room as him for too long.

You really are ashamed.

Why did you say that to him?

Maybe you should apologise.

Fiddling with the edging of the blanket, you nod to yourself. Breathing in deeply, you get up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom.

Walking up the steps, you breathe in again. Seeing the bedroom door being slightly ajar, you push your fingertips against it “Elvis?” You say softly, scanning the room only to not see him in there. You thought you'll have to wake him up from his much needed rest to apologise but he's not even in the room.

So with a quick look in the bathroom, to see if he's in there. You walk out and begin to walk the halls, poking your head in each room before you stop in your tracks just a couple of metres away from the baby's nursery.

Singing.

Cautiously, you tiptoe towards the door, being careful to not make too much noise.

The sight you see makes your heart melt.

“Love me tender, Love me true..all my dreams fulfil, for my darling… I love you…and I always will'' His chuckle, deep and quiet.

“Ya quite a good-lookin' fella ain't ya?” he snickers softly, as he gently swipes his thumb against the baby's small cheek. A soft grin growing on his face “Gorgeous…” he whispers.

You really can't hold in your tears.

Bringing your hand up to open the door lightly, watching as Elvis lifts his head, his eyes softening at your sadden face.

“Oh Honey…”

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #70s elvis #elvis imagine #i love him #elvis presley x reader #elvis fandom #dad!elvis x wife!reader

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del-thetiredwriter · 9 months

Text

Mafia au/Good luck while running away from mafia

intro , part 0.5 , part 1 , part 3

Notes: Hello its been a while . First of all its little longer ususal but I hope you like it. And because of some health issues and some personal stuff I couldnt post anything. I'll try to post whever I have time.

Tags: @morokumi , @hrhqueenfox , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine ,@h3apm3ch4n151m, @cecilebutcher, @ayachansan

Warning: my poor English, gn reader, fight scenes , running away from yandere ...

As you did the paperwork that Leona should have done but didn't, your eye fell on Leona's phone. Someone has been texting nonstop for the last 15 minutes. Whoever texted finally called. It was Vil. You took the phone to Leona. Disturbed by his sleep interruption, the executive of Savanaclaw answered the call and gestured for you to leave. You thought 'weird'. Meeting of executives who don't like each other to death.

"Leona-san, is there a problem sir? May I ask why Vil-san called you?" you asked. "It's not a big deal. You don't need to know."

"Is that so."

You gripped the steering wheel tightly. Your hands were shaking with adrenaline because of that fight at the restaurant an hour ago. They found you. Of course they did, but you were so used to your life in this last 1 month that you were taken by surprise for a moment. You should have cleared your mind now. Heartslabyul had already attacked. You could be attacked at any time. You should have been on the alert.

"Well, Y/N pack yourself up. You know them, they know you. There must be a way out. They probably have their men stationed at all the entrances and exits of the city. So it's almost impossible to get out of here without getting caught." you thought.

You opened the glove box. The situation was dire. Since you came to work with Alex this morning, you forgot that you 'cleaned' the car. "Damn" you cursed. All you had now were 3 bullets, a gun , an electroshock device, two morning sandwiches and some cash.It didn't seem like enough for an escape at all. 'I could have gone home and stocked up on some supplies and ammo, but since they found my work place, they probably found the house too. ' you thought. Your thoughts were interrupted by the vibration from your phone. The alarm of the security system you installed in your house was going on. When you looked at the cameras you saw 3 familiar face. You'll recognize those green predatory eyes wherever you see them. "Leona-san."

"Looks like the little herbivore has put some little toys in here, huh. Ruggie, turn those alarms off, they're too loud." said Leona as he surveyed the house.

"Leona-san, I told you to sneak in. It was obvious that someone like Y/N-shii was going to install a security system in the house. Now we've cleared our spot." Ruggie whined as he searched for the shutdown system. "Leona-san, what are you trying to do, sir?" ' Jack asked the reclining department manager. " Don't worry , They will come." said Leona lazily. "After all, they have no choice ."

"I don't have a better option than this." you sighed.

According to the cameras around the house, there were no men around. You did not know the position of the other executives. But looking at all your years in the mafia, one of the things you knew was that departments weren't going to work together to catch you. Leona was trying to get you on your feet by knowing your current situation, and it seemed like it was the best choice.

You checked inside the cameras one last time. Ruggie and Leona were in the Hall at the entrance, while Jack stood guard in the garage. "Damn, I wish I had a secret passage to the house." you said. Getting Jack first seemed like the best option to get in. "I'm on my really unlucky day… against two different departments in one night, huh."

Jack was lost in thought. He was thinking of you as he paced the garage. A month and a half ago, he suddenly couldn't reach you, then found out that you had left the mafia. Why did you leave, what was your reason? Why didn't you say anything to him? Jack felt betrayed. He paused with a small click. The garage door was slightly ajar. You jumped on him before he knew what was going on. You attacked him before he could come to him because of the blow he received and you used the electroshock device. "Sorry Jack." you said while tying it. "But while hunting, always pay attention to the hunt, otherwise you will be the hunted while you are the hunter." you said. Those were the words he said to you when you first went on a mission with Leona. You took the remaining strings and took one last look at Jack and locked the door on him.

"Ah~ all the hustle and bustle made me pretty hungry." said Ruggie, taking a bite of the donut he found in the fridge. "But you have to give it credit. Y/N-shii really tried hard. Security systems, cameras. soundproof walls… Who knows what else is in here , right Leona-san?" ' Ruggie asked the man lying in the armchair a few feet away. But the only response that came was a vague grunt. "Oh really, I'm going to Jack's. Call me if you need anything."

Ruggie began muttering to himself as he made his way down the hall. "This soundproofing thing really sucks. I feel like I'm in a horror movie." When he finally reached the garage door, he paused. There was something amiss. The door was locked. "Jack?" 'Oh no!' and with a sharp blow his vision darkened.

'I am indebted to the awful assassination training I received in Pormefiore.' you thought as you tied Ruggie. If Rook saw you in this state, he would surely utter some French nonsense and cry out of delight.

'last hunt' you thought. You had no chance to surprise attack this time, the fight was inevitable.

"You came." said Leona, his back to you as he sat on the sofa. He slowly turned his face towards you and grinned like a hunter playing with his prey. You pointed your gun at him. "Ah~ really, how cold you are. But I wouldn't do that if I were you." he said You looked at the table in the middle of the sofa set, Leona had found all your ammo. Then suddenly he stood up. "Don't you dare do anything wrong, otherwise-" "What," he interrupted. "Are you going to shoot me?" You didn't reply. "You know, I've been thinking a lot about why you left the mafia." He took a step towards you. "After all, you suddenly disappeared without any of us knowing. It was okay, we were very close." He took two more steps. "Don't Approach!" you warned. "Then why? You either wanted a normal life or -" "I said don't Approach !" and you pulled the trigger. Leona fell to the ground with the blow. First a few seconds of deep silence, then a chilling laugh. "Do you really think I'm not prepared for such situations?" he said. Before you could take your guard on, he made a move towards your gun and your gun fell to the ground. "Things might be more comfortable for you if you surrendered easily." said Leona, like a parent scolding his child. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter, but Leona grabbed you by the wrists and prevented you from attacking.

"You were supposed to behave yourself when you realized everything. Not running away stupidly." he said, tightening his grip.

You grit your teeth, You hit him in the face with your head. With this unexpected blow, Leona staggered backwards. With your freed hands, you took a handful of black pepper from the Black Pepper jar on the table and punched him in the face with your black pepper-filled fist. Roaring with pain from the dust in his eyes, Leona tried to attack you, but you got ahead of him and activated the booby traps. and Leona suddenly found himself in a ditch.

"You underestimated me, Leona-san. Remember, this is my territory. Even lions can be prey in the territory of the ridges when they are alone."

Without wasting any time, you started filling a bag with supplies and ammo. Meanwhile, Leona's phone started ringing. You picked up the phone on the table and saw the calling number,it was Boss.

"Hello Y/N, how are you?"

You didn't answer. Your old boss, Dire Crowley, was talking as usual as if nothing had happened.

"First of all, congratulations, defeating two of my managers in one night is not easy for everyone." You locked the door of the house while he was talking.

"You know, I'm a very generous person. That's why I wanted to let you know that the arrest warrant has been taken against you and that the whole mafia is after you." '

Oh, what a generosity. Like I didn't know this." you thought.

"But remember, I'm on your side. If you can escape from all, I'll give you your freedom."

"What if I Lose?"

"Then we both know what will happen." And the phone has turned off.

"Agh! I was so sure the Kingscholar would catch them." groaned former Savanaclaw manager Ashton Vargas. "But he didn't catch them. You've lost the bet so please let me demand the money." Sam smiled. "It was unexpected even for Y/N." said Trein, taking a sip of his tea. "Would you like to change your bets on who will win?" Sam offered. He grinned mischievously as he pocketed the check from Vargas. "The rightfully of what we're doing is debatable, but it looks like it'll be fun. A little fun never hurt anyone." said Crowley. While looking at Crewel, who is silently watching outside. "Okay, then let me take your bets."

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kvtie444 · 3 months

Text

°•★ SOLO .4

a/n: this took so long omds, i luv this song Summary: reader moves to LA for work and becomes the sturniolos editor, but what happens when she falls for someone unexplected… Warnings: mentions of drinking, swearing, suggestive?

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His words echo relentlessly in my mind.

"What, have you never been fucked senseless before?".

I toss and turn in my bed, desperate to find sleep, but my shameless thoughts make it nearly impossible.

"Well, if you wanna cum so hard you can't walk the next day, you know where to find me."

I groan and reach for my phone, checking the date and time: Friday, 4:18 am. The reminder of the car video I still needed to edit for today weighs heavily on my mind. I groan again, sinking back against my pillows, but as I close my eyes, vivid daydreams of Chris kissing down my body flood my mind. I try to push them away, reminding myself that he's practically my boss. I groan once more and turn over, attempting to banish the tempting thoughts.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Alone at the dining table, I stare blankly at my laptop screen, feeling the weight of the looming deadline for the car video. Nick had invited me over to make food and chill, providing a change of scenery from the unproductive comfort of my own bed. As he heads off for a shower, I'm left grappling with the hour-long footage I need to edit down for the video scheduled to go up in an hour.

But the task feels insurmountable. I doubt my ability to get the video out on time, and the guilt gnaws at me. One job, and I'm struggling to meet the deadline. I groan, running my hand over my face, pulling at the loose hairs that cover it. Exhaustion clouds my mind, sapping my motivation and focus. The pressure mounts swiftly, and I feel tears welling up against my palms as the overwhelming thoughts consume me. To make things worse, I could hear Chris and some girl he brought over downstairs.

As the door creaks open, I look up to see Matt entering the room, his expression filled with concern once he sees me. “Hey, hey, what’s going on” He walks over to me, his steps measured and gentle. With a comforting hand on my shoulder, he squeezes it reassuringly, his touch a balm to my frayed nerves. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I struggle to articulate my overwhelming emotions.

"I don’t know if this video will be ready on time, and it’s my only job, yet I messed it up," I manage to choke out, my voice trembling with suppressed sobs. Matt hushes me with a gentle shush, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down my arm. He murmurs words of reassurance, “You’re okay, everything okay, don’t worry about it”.

In that moment, I realize how fortunate I am to have Matt as a friend. His kindness and genuine concern envelop me, offering solace in the midst of my turmoil. I can't help but feel undeserving of his unwavering support.

My attention shifts to the stairs as I hear the sound of footsteps dragging themselves up them. Chris appears, clad in a black fresh love tracksuit, accompanied by some Instagram model wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, she walks to the fridge. Our eyes meet briefly through my bloodshot gaze, and I follow his movements as he leans against the counter.

“What’s up with you?” he mumbles, distractedly taking out his phone. Matt's glare intensifies, his jaw visibly clenched in annoyance. “It’s nothing, she’s fine,” he interjects on my behalf. I lower my gaze back to my keyboard, exhaling heavily.

As I focus on my editing, a flicker of movement catches my attention from the periphery of my vision. The girl leans in close to Chris, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispers something indistinct, punctuated by a playful giggle. With a dismissive gesture, she walks away, her hips swaying enticingly. I grit my teeth in frustration, seething at Chris's blatant disregard for boundaries.

Chris, true to form, can't resist one final display of arrogance, delivering a sharp slap to the girl's ass as she departs. I roll my eyes at his juvenile antics, feeling a surge of irritation and jealousy wash over me.

Left alone with Matt and Chris, I attempt to refocus on my editing task, but Chris's immaturity proves to be a persistent distraction. He reaches over and grabs the screen of my laptop, dragging it back to sneak a peek at my progress. I suppress a sigh at his lack of respect for my workspace. I grab the screen back and pull back to its original position.

“You on your period or something?”

The room hangs heavy with the weight of his words, a dense fog of tension settling over us as silence reigns. My gaze rises to meet his, finding his eyes hooded, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Can you go back to fucking your little girlfriend and leave me the fuck alone?" I retort sharply, the words dripping with venom as they escape my lips. Matt's reaction is palpable, his jaw visibly dropping in astonishment at the exchange unfolding before him.

A shift occurs in Chris's demeanor, a subtle transformation that darkens the intensity of his gaze. He leans in closer, his hands pressing down on the by the sides of my laptop, effectively trapping me in his presence. "Why? You jealous princess?" he taunts, his voice laced with arrogance.

I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down, and let out a scoff of disbelief. "Didn't seem so against it when we all went out for dinner," He continues. The realization of what he’s just said hits me like a ton of bricks, and I feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, breaking eye contact in a desperate attempt to deflect from the uncomfortable truth. His chuckle washes over me, his breath warm against my skin as he leans in closer, his teasing tone only serving to fuel my simmering anger.

"Don't speak to your boss like that," he teases, the words sending a surge of frustration coursing through me. My jaw clenches with determination, a silent vow forming in my mind as I refuse to allow him to undermine me any further.

"Chris, fuck off, you can’t say shit," Matt's voice cuts through the tension, gaining attention from all of us. They lock eyes for a fleeting moment before Chris releases a chuckle and retreats to his room.

I exhale a breath I didn't even realize I was holding as Matt rises from his seat and begins rummaging through his pantry, likely in search of a snack. Was this job really worth this much stress? Chris was hanging over me like a dark cloud adds another layer of stress I certainly didn't need. Did I even want to continue working under these circumstances?

Before I can entertain the thought further, a muffled sound interrupts our uneasy silence, causing both Matt and me to freeze in place. We exchange a glance, our expressions mirroring a mix of confusion. The sound repeats, growing louder and more distinct with each passing moment. It's unmistakably a moan.

My eyes squeeze shut in frustration and disbelief. Fucking Chris.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It had been a day since the whole kitchen incident, and while I managed to get the video uploaded only five minutes late, the lingering tension still weighed on my mind. As I walked home with my coffee in hand, a sudden ring in my pocket caught my attention. Pulling out my phone, I saw that it was Laura calling. My stomach churned slightly with anxiety. What if Chris had said something petty about me that could jeopardize my job? I bit the inside of my cheek nervously before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N! I'm in a rush right now, but I wanted to let you know that at the end of the month, I've booked tickets for Hawaii for you, Madi, and the boys. Obviously, this is a great opportunity for the boys to do some sort of vlog, but you deserve a trip like this," Laura's voice came through the phone, her excitement palpable. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of a trip to Hawaii, but the smile faded as the reality of potentially spending time with Chris sank in.

"Yeah, that's amazing! Thank you! I'll definitely be there," I replied, masking my hesitation with forced enthusiasm.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer @daddyslilchickenfingers @mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @s1urnioloslvr @mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332 @recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333 @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess @poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444 @thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody @spideylovin @justangelheree @sturnioloenthusiast @nickmillersn1gf @soursturniolo@bernardenjoyer@stuniolobbg @luv4kozume@luvmxtt@urmommysbathroom@lexisecretaccx

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #angst #fluff #smut #imagine

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traveler-at-heart · 10 months

Text

What we were

Summary: After losing Clint, your marriage and family begins to fall apart. Will Natasha be able to go back to what you once were?

A/N: This is going to be four chapters, but most of it is written. It’s a mix of angst, hurt and comfort. Obvious warning, there’s a major character death. Natasha and R have a daughter.

Time was unforgiving.

It had been six months since you lost Clint. Two since you asked Natasha to move out.

Four hours of sleep was the most you could get each night.

Time heals everything, people say.

Then, how come, the more time passed, the worse you felt?

Thoughts like these invade your mind, even when doing the most mundane of tasks. Like now, when you’re waiting for your daughter’s school day to be over. Leaning over your black Mercedes, you wish that your injured leg could be less of a bother and instead of driving, you could walk to pick up Anya and get distracted by the sights of the city.

The school bell rings and the quiet classrooms are full of murmurs, books stored away and steps walking -some rushing eagerly- to the exit.

Impossible to miss, Anya’s red waves are the first thing you spot. Raising a hand, she says goodbye to her friends and walks your way.

“Hi, darling” you sigh against her head.

She’s getting taller and maybe next year she won’t let you hug her. Maybe she’ll even want to take the bus while you anxiously wait for her return home. But now, she’s still a sweet child and she still lets you run your hands through her hair.

“How was Debate Club?” it’s the first thing you ask, because she’d been preparing relentlessly to beat the other team.

“We won, obviously”

“We should celebrate” a voice joins the conversation. You’re so startled that you drop the car keys.

“Mom!” Anya says, wrapping her arms around Natasha.

It makes you happy that she’s not resentful even after everything that happened. That she can love so unconditionally.

She didn’t get that from you.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt” Natasha apologizes, finally looking at you. There’s a weak smile on your face, what else can you do? “I was thinking we could go shopping for that new game you wanted?”

“Can we please, Momma?” Anya turns to you.

“Sure. Have fun. But don’t spoil your appetite. We’re having lasagna”

“Mom, our favorite” Anya nudges the Russian and you look away.

“I’ll have her home by 6” Natasha saves you the embarrassment of being forced to invite her.

“Have fun” you wave goodbye, heart beating fast.

Breaking the speed limit, you rush home. But the tears start running long before you’re parked.

You look at your sad reflection in the rearview mirror.

Natasha looks better than the last time you saw each other.

Maybe all she needed was to be away from you, to be happy again.

Two glasses of wine later, you’re curled up on the sofa watching your favorite comfort show and feeling better.

“What’s up, Buck?” you answer at the second ring of your phone.

“Are you ok?”

You look at the half empty glass of wine and decide that no, you’re most definitely not ok.

“Sure, why you ask?”

“I just saw her driving with Anya”

“Mhm” you look at the clock. 5:55 PM. She’s trying to be a responsible parent, at least. “Yeah, she showed up at school today. It’s good that they spent time together”

“Want me to come over?”

“No, I don’t want you two fighting in my front yard. Thanks, though”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, ok? And if you feel like it, we can go to that Broadway show on Saturday. I got us tickets”

“Thanks, Buck”

“Ok, she’s parking outside now”

“You followed them all the way here?” you jump out of the couch, looking out the window.

“What? I was worried!”

“Sometimes I think it’s not so great that you live a few blocks away, you weirdo”

“But then I bring coffee and scones and you change your mind”

“Yeap”

“See ya, doll”

“Bye, creep”

“Oh, come on!”

You let out a laugh at his protest. Wanda and Yelena have been texting you, so you scroll, smiling at the silly pictures of Fanny or the videos of Tommy and Billy doing their crazy science experiments.

“Hi, Ma” Anya rushes past you. “Gonna change for dinner”

“Mmkay” you nod, texting Bucky to make sure he’s actually back home, and not slashing Natasha’s tires.

“So…”

“Nat, jeez” you drop the phone, not even aware that she is still here. She looks at you across the kitchen island.

Don’t think how sad it is that she looks out of place here, where it used to be home.

Don’t cry in front of her.

Don’t.

“Sorry, I’ll say goodbye and leave”

“Anya, your mom’s leaving” you busy yourself in the kitchen, looking away.

“So soon?” the girl peeks around, pouting. “We haven’t even played the game yet”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you give up, unable to say no to your daughter.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m always making extra anyways”

Because you were used to cooking dinner for three.

Anya is happy to set the table, but you sit next to your daughter, leaving Natasha in front of her. You try to stay focused on Anya and school: the debate club, sports activities, a month in Europe for the best students.

“Mom, do you think I can reach out to aunt Carol? I have some Astronomy questions”

Natasha immediately looks at you, but you’re hyper focused on the bottle of wine and pouring the last of it until your glass is filled to the rim.

“Uh, she’s not... I’m not sure where Danvers is, sweetheart. She left Earth a while back”

“Oh, ok” the girl nods, looking at you with a frown. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is your leg hurting? What did Doctor Cho say?”

Crap.

“What’s wrong, det…?” Natasha asks, looking at you. The pet name almost rolled off her tongue.

Everything. Everything is wrong, Natasha.

“That old injury from our outlaw days. Doctor Cho gave me some pain killers. But I don’t think I’ll take them, they make me too sleepy”

“We’ll do the dishes” Natasha jumps in. “Don’t worry about it”

“Thanks”

The dishes are the least of your worries, but it’s still a nice gesture.

Maybe when she’s finally ready to ask you to divorce her, you’ll be able to coparent.

“Here, let me” she asks as you approach with the empty glass of wine. “Did Doctor Cho say anything else?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter, watching as she washes the dishes.

“She said surgery might make the pain go away. Actually, there’s a 90% chance it will work. But Anya’s got school and I’d have to do bed rest for at least five weeks. Maybe during winter break”

“I can take care of her. Drive her to school or cook dinner or…”

“You’re a terrible cook” you remind her. It’s meant to be a joke, but also a way to make her stop.

You don’t want to be a burden for someone who doesn’t want you anymore.

“Wanda could teach me”

“She’s too busy making sure the twins aren’t building a nuclear weapon in the garage”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks, almost afraid of your answer.

“Can you take her to school tomorrow?” you finally say, without providing further details.

The truth is, you’ll probably cry until you fall asleep, because you miss Natasha and this is the first time you’ve seen her in two months.

And it would be better if you could sleep in, make an appointment with your therapist and then find a way to look composed by the time you have to pick your daughter from school.

“Absolutely”

“Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N”

The way she says your name makes you want to scream.

Natasha’s long gone, Anya sleeping peacefully back in her room.

You’re looking at the ceiling, tears rolling down your face and soaking your pillow.

You miss her so damn much. You love her so much.

And you also hate her. And you hate yourself for loving her.

There’s a soft knock at your door. You know it’s not Anya because she would have turned on the hallway light.

“Hey, weirdo” you look at Bucky from across the room, smiling sadly. He approaches you and wraps you in his arms. You sob against his chest, feeling like the sadness will last forever.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. Let it all out. I’m here”

You don’t know when you fall asleep.

A lot has changed in such a short time, but by now, Anya is used to the sight of her uncle Bucky, rotating between the few breakfast foods he can make without burning everything.

“You read my mind” Anya watches as he makes blueberry pancakes.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?” he mumbles, impressed at how silent she was.

“No, because my moms are spies and so is my uncle and my other aunt and basically half my family”

“Smart ass,” he chuckles. “Come on, eat your food before it gets cold”

“Did mom eat anything yet?” Anya sits on a stool, eating on the kitchen counter.

“Your mom’s asleep” Bucky says. In fact, you cried, had a panic attack, a couple of nightmares, woke up to drink some water and then fell asleep at 4 AM.

Basically, the usual for the past two months.

He’s so caught in his thoughts that he forgets to flip the last pancake. A knock on the front door snaps him back to reality.

“Can you turn off the stove? And pack your bag, we’re leaving in five…” Bucky yells over, opening the door without looking through the peephole first. He’s surprised to find Natasha on the other side “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up my daughter”

“Does Y/N know?” He's holding on to the door so hard that the wood cracks.

“She asked me to drive Anya to school”

“Ok, I’m ready” Anya announces, aware that her mother and uncle aren’t on the best terms. She walks between them to make sure they won’t punch each other. “Bye, uncle, thanks for breakfast”

“Have a good day, sweetheart. See you Saturday”

“Right, for that musical, Beaglejuice”

“Shut up” he chuckles, kissing her forehead. Anya leans forward and hugs him goodbye.

Natasha is silent for most of the ride. Anya is looking out the window, uncertain of her mother’s mood. Maybe not saying anything is safer.

Three blocks away from school and Natasha hears herself blurting out what’s been on her mind this whole time.

“Does Barnes stay over a lot?”

“I guess” Anya mutters, still looking out the window.

“Well, do you know…”

The girl has enough, turning around to face her mother. There’s nothing but resentment in her eyes as she tells Natasha everything.

“Mom cries herself to sleep every night. Ever since you moved out, it's been hard for her to get up in the morning and act normal, let alone cook breakfast. So yeah, uncle Bucky is around all the time, just to make sure she’s at the very least alive. You’d know if you still cared about us”

“Anya…”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way, thanks for the ride” she mumbles, opening the door and rushing away. Natasha is stuck in traffic, so all she can do is watch her daughter from the car.

Just when she was starting to make things right, she fucks up again.

“Thanks for breakfast” you say, mouth full of pancakes.

“More like lunch” Bucky corrects.

You nod, reaching for the maple syrup.

“So, why’d you ask Natasha to drive Anya to school?”

“Is that why my door is almost broken in half?”

“I’ll fix it”

“You better” you mumble. He is still staring and you shrug your shoulders. “Just experimenting how co-parenting is gonna be when we officially divorce”

“So, you are asking her to divorce you?”

“She’s gonna ask me. Sooner or later” you keep your head down, playing with your food. You’re not hungry anymore.

“All things considered, the ball is in your court”

“Buck” you plead, dropping the fork.

“I’m just saying” he approaches your side. “You’ll only be able to heal once you know what you both want. But running away won’t help”

“You sound like my therapist”

“But does she cook you breakfast?”

“For what she’s charging me, she should, actually” both of you laugh. And damn it, you know he’s right. “Thank you, for worrying about me. And for taking care of us these past few months. I’m sorry I’m such a mess”

As if on cue, tears start streaming down your face. Bucky hugs you, kissing your head.

“It’s ok”

“I know you hate it when people cry, I’m sorry”

“Yeah, but I hate it a little bit more when you’re the one crying”

Luckily for your therapist, you’re all cried out by the time you reach her office. Instead, you discuss how it would be better to approach Natasha, who has always struggled with communication around difficult topics.

“I’m very happy with this session. We’ve made great progress” Doctor Thompson says and you put your fist forward.

“Fist bump” you encourage her.

“I’ll get my license taken away if we ever do this again”

For the first time in months, you leave her office feeling a little bit lighter.

Until you check your phone. 10 missed calls from Natasha.

“Nat?” you answer as she calls again.

“Is Anya with you?”

“I was about to pick her up from school” there’s a pause. “You did drive her to school, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot” she shoots back.

“Well, I’m very confused because she’s only about to end her last class. Why would she be anywhere else, then?” you retort.

“Just meet me back home, ok?” she pleads.

“Fine”

She’s pacing on the sidewalk as you park.

“Care to explain?”

“The school called me an hour ago. She sneaked out after recess”

“Let’s just track her phone”

“It’s off”

“Well, fuck” you run your hand through your hair. “Did she say anything to you this morning? Did she seem upset?”

Natasha looks away, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I asked her if Barnes was staying over often”

“Natasha, for fuck’s sake” you sigh, turning away from her.

Don’t shout. You won’t solve anything by screaming at Natasha.

Your daughter is missing because your wife can’t keep her jealousy to herself. So fuck it.

“If you want to know anything, you ask me, Natasha, do you understand? You don’t go questioning our 13 year old daughter, who, by the way, has been through enough shit lately. I’m trying to protect her and you’re here implying I’m sleeping with the only friend who isn’t tired of me being a mess. Which, for the record, I’m not. And would never. Unlike you, I’m not going around fucking people outside my marriage because I’m having a hard time”

“I don’t know how to get close to you, Y/N. You pushed me out ever since…”

“No! You don’t get to put this on me. I tried for months. I tried everything. And you scoffed and ignored and stood me up. I gave up the moment I found you in bed with Carol”

Your voice breaks at the last part. That memory has been buried for so long; you want it to stay hidden, forever.

It doesn’t matter. You need to find Anya.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Buck”

“I’m here. I’ll help you find her”

“I’ll find my daughter alone, thank you” you walk past her, waiting impatiently for your friend to pick up.

“She’s my daughter too”

“You sure as hell haven’t acted like her mother in a long time, Natalia”

You walk away, your back turned to her.

“Buck” you say, voice trembling.

“I know. She’s at the Met. Hasn’t left. I’m outside, just in case”

“How did you…?”

“I’m sorry. I was hoping I could convince her to come back before you found out she sneaked out of class”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can”

Again, those soft waves of red are the first thing you spot in the room. Her blue eyes are fixed on Degas and his Dance Class.

“Hey, kiddo” you stand next to her, understanding immediately why she’s looking at this painting. “We still have your ballerina shoes somewhere in a box. Your mom loved going to your recitals”

“I’m sorry for leaving school”

“I played hooky a couple of times. It’s part of life. I just want to make sure you’re ok”

“She doesn’t care if you’re able to get up in the morning but gets jealous because someone is taking care of us”

You sigh. Anya has Natasha’s heart, after all. She loves and protects fiercely.

“That’s not exactly true. Come with me” your daughter takes your hand as you leave the museum.

Central Park is still looking beautiful, even as fall approaches. Anya plops down on a bench and you take a seat next to her. A small groan leaves your lips. This damn leg.

“You know your mother was raised to be an assassin. The Red Room taught her that love was a weakness. And that she was incapable of having a family or people that cared about her. Even after all these years, insecurity can get the best of Nat sometimes”

“Why can’t we just… go back to what we used to be?” she mumbles, a tear rolling down her face.

“Oh, sweetheart” you hold her against your chest. “I want nothing more in this world”

“I miss her”

“Me too, Anya”

“It’s like we lost her the day uncle Clint died” she sobs.

“But she’s still here. And she still needs you, my sweet girl. I’m not saying you should forgive her right this second. But don’t build a wall around yourself, please”

“Ok”

“You know I lost my mom when I was 15. And a lot of that time I spent it angry at her for staying with a man that wasn’t good to us. But once she was gone, all I wished was that I had made her life a little easier”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. I’m glad I’m here, to make sure you don’t make the same mistake I did. We’re gonna be alright, I promise”

“I love you”

“Love you too, kiddo” you keep her in your arms for as long as you can, but a light rain begins to fall. “Come on, now. Bucky’s been waiting for us”

“I know. I saw him following me on the bus here”

“My God, I don’t know which one of you is scarier”

Anya giggles, and you take her hand.

Even between all of this mess, she’s the one thing that makes everything worth it.

Anya was the one that texted her mother, apologizing and letting her know she was ok.

You didn’t reply to Natasha’s text. “I’m sorry” isn’t enough sometimes.

After pizza and an intense game of Jenga with Anya and Bucky, you call it a night.

You know what you’ll dream of tonight, but you’re too tired to care.

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/N #Natasha Romanoff x You

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

Text

Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!

Summary: After a long last week, Javi takes you out to celebrate the end of the school year. Even when things don't go according to his plans, you're convinced you've never been on a better date.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (wrap it up, y'all), phone sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, masturbation (m and f), mentions of panic/anxiety, mentions of food/eating, subpar Spanish (my 4 years of high school Spanish don't take up a lot of space in my brain, I apologize) Javi being our consent king, Javi caring so much about you it physically hurts me

Word Count: 14.1K (I didn't realize how long this was until I finished)

A/N: YOU GUYS. When I started doing this, I just wanted to write for fun and posted thinking that no one would read this, let alone be invested in it 🥺 Y'all are so sweet, thank you so much!! This was another fun chapter to write, I'm thinking I have some good ideas about what these two are up to next!!

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Javier Peña had always been a light sleeper. Even as a kid, he would wake up to the sound of a stray footstep wandering through his home, or the wind rustling the tree outside his bedroom window. Once he got to Colombia, it was like he never slept at all. Since coming home, his dreams were plagued with the violent images of his past, causing him to thrash and toss in his sleep, waking up sweaty and breathless. But last night, he slept next to you. Your warmth and presence draped over him provided a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time he could remember since coming back, Javi actually slept. When he woke up Monday morning to the sound of his alarm, he so desperately wished to have rolled over and found you, to wrap himself around you and ground himself. To smell the warm and fruity scent of your hair, to kiss your soft skin, to take in every detail about how your body seemed to impossibly take up every corner of the bed, despite your small stature. This morning, Javi had to settle for the emptiness of his childhood bedroom, begrudgingly preparing himself for the very long 4 days ahead of him until he could see you again.

He got out of bed, following his usual routine of brushing his teeth, shaving and showering, the emptiness of his bathroom making him wish you were there to serenade him with your cute sing-alongs as you both got ready.

After he was dressed, he headed out into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and sit on the back porch, overlooking their acres of farmland and the impending sunrise. During Javi’s time away, Chucho had hired help at the ranch, now relieving Javi of having to get up at some God awful hour to feed animals or move cows from one pasture to another. Even in his older age, it didn’t stop his father from getting up every morning at 4:25 AM to make sure things stayed running smoothly on the ranch. Normally, he and his father’s morning schedules didn’t overlap, sometimes getting the occasional good morning in passing as they headed to their prospective jobs. This morning, Javi had to check his watch to make sure he wasn’t late for work, realizing his Dad had finished his morning chores almost a half hour early. He must have seen that Javi’s car finally made its way back to the driveway when he got up. Javi knew his dad would confront him about the weekend at some point, he just didn’t think it was going to be at 6:27 this morning.

Chucho walked up the steps of the back porch, sitting down next to Javi on the top step. “Morning, Pops.” Javi took a sip of his coffee.

“Glad to see you made it back. I was getting close to sending a search party out for you, Hijo.” He chuckled, seeing that Javi’s face was already starting to get red. “Seems like it must have been a good weekend then, huh?”

“Yeah, it was uh, it was a really good weekend.”

“Good. I’m glad, son. The way I watched you smile on Saturday… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like that.”

“Yeah. She makes me really happy, Pop.” He reached down for another sip of his coffee, Chucho keeping quiet, in hopes to get more out of him. “I uh, I asked her to be my girlfriend. I know it seems really fast but… I don’t know, Dad. There’s something about her. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.”

Chucho placed his hand on Javi’s shoulder. “Sometimes Mijo, you just know.” Javi shifted his gaze from his reflection in his coffee mug to the soft smile of his father. In that moment, it was like a weight had been lifted off of Javi’s shoulders. He couldn’t quite describe what it was. Was it the fact that he could tell how happy his dad was for him? That he had found someone who liked him for who he was? That it wasn’t too late to prove he deserved the life he wanted before he left for Colombia all those years ago?

“Thanks, Pops. She’s special.”

“I can tell she is, Javier. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

“She already told me she wants to come and meet the animals. Tried to buy a bag of carrots when we went grocery shopping so she could make sure the horses liked her.” They both laughed to themselves.

“That was how I got su mamá to come to the ranch for the first time. She told me I was fine, but los animales were the only reason she really wanted to come over. It all seemed to work out okay.” Chucho patted Javier on the shoulder, before grunting as he stood up. “You going to see her again soon?”

“Thursday. Taking her out to celebrate her last day of school.”

Chucho smilied. “Ah, yes. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres. (Don't talk to me until the children are free). I’m happy for you, Javier. All me and your mamá ever wanted for you was that.”

Chucho huffed as he took a step on to the deck and walked his way into the house. Javi smiled to himself, repeating his fathers words in his head.

Sometimes, you just know.

You knew Monday was going to suck. It was inevitable. It had been so long since you had slept in the same bed with someone, after just one night of being with Javi, you found yourself tossing and turning, craving his body in your bed. To top off your not so great night’s sleep, you realized you had forgotten to set your alarm, made no food for your lunch, and hadn’t set your coffee to brew for when you woke up. Scrambling, you started a pot and threw whatever lunch-like items you could find into your lunch box, hoping that maybe you would have the appetite for one of them later. Not having enough time to shower, you threw your hair up in a bun, found a dress (since it was easier than having to pick out a top and bottoms), grabbed your things and raced down to your car. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much you had to prep when you got in- there wasn’t planned since it was the last week of school. But, you did have to have your room packed for summer cleaning before Thursday. You were planning on doing the majority of it on Thursday afternoon since the kids had a half day in the morning, but knowing you had plans with a very handsome someone later on that night, you were trying to get as much done as possible.

Just as you assumed, your room was in absolute chaos as your students entered, like they could feel it in their bones that summer was almost here. You couldn’t have been more thankful to have music and gym this morning, sending the kids on their way shortly after they arrived, leaving you alone again with the sweet sound of silence in your room. Well, at least for a few minutes.

Knock, knock, knock

You had closed your door on purpose, hoping it would give the hint that you didn’t want people to come talk to you during your planning time, but the door meant absolutely nothing to the 3 ladies peeking in through your window, frantically ushering you to come open it for them. You should have known it was going to happen.

“Hola, mijaaaaaaa.” Estelle greeting you with a smirking smile. The other two ladies snickered behind her.

“Hi, you guys.” You responded as they made yourself at home at the large table you had at the front of your room.

“Sooooo, how was the rest of your weekend?” Linda asked, raising her eyebrows at you.

“It was good.” You responded, at least trying to make them work a little harder before you shared your news with them.

“Cut to the chase, Mija. What happened with you and Javier?! We are dying to know. I tried to call, but Chucho is too good of a man to gossip with us, so we have been left high and dry since Saturday night.” Of course Maria would have no problem not beating around the bush to get the answers they needed.

“We spent the rest of the weekend hanging out together. He offered to run errands with me on Sunday and we watched a movie before he left to go home last night. We had a really good time.”

“How good of a time? There’s a very large gap between you leaving on Saturday and going shopping on Sunday.” Maria was invested in you two like a weeknight telenovela. The other two ladies shot her glaring looks, knowing she was the only one bold enough to ask the question.

“Maria! Considering we’re inside an elementary school right now, I’m keeping it PG. We had a lot of fun, that’s all I will say.”

“Fine, fine, fine.”

You paused for a moment, blushing before dropping the next bit of information. “He um, he asked me to be his girlfriend too.”

You blushed as the women shrieked in delight at the news. “No puedo creerlo!” (I can’t believe it) Estelle screeched. “Digame (tell me), how did it happen?”

You knew they were about to have a field day with your answer. “Well, um, it actually kind of happened because of Lorriane.”

Their faces went stone cold. They began whispering to each other in frantic Spanish.

“Esa mujer está un punta loco…” (That woman is a crazy bitch…)

“Yo se, Maria, dèjala hablar!” (I know Maria, let the girl talk!)

“Quiero saber qué pasó, shhh!” (I want to know what happened, shhh!)

“Well, um, we were out shopping for a birthday present for my niece. Her and her family ended up being in front of us in line when we went to check out and she realized Javi was behind her. She asked who I was and before I could answer for myself, he introduced me as his girlfriend. She’s um… something.”

The women paused before saying anything else.

“Javi told me about what happened with them, don’t worry.”

“If she said anything to you, mija, don’t let it bother you. That woman is ruthless.”

“I know, I kinda picked that up after talking to her.” You grimaced your face. “But I guess I owe her a thank you because it really speeded up the whole him asking me out thing!” The ladies smiled again, recognizing your genuine happiness when talking about Javi.

“We are so happy for you, mija. Really, you both deserve each other.” Linda chimed in.

“So, are you going to see him again soon?” Estelle asked, prodding for more information.

“Not until Thursday. He’s taking me out to celebrate the last day of school, we’re going to dinner and a movie.”

The ladies swooned. “So sweet mjia. He’s already doing more for you than mí marido (husband) has ever done for me on the last day of school. He just looks at me and tells me he’s glad I’m not grumpy anymore.”

“Yeah, it was really sweet of him. I’m really excited for it.”

“Congrats, sweetheart. We really are so happy for you.”

“Don’t think you’re escaping until August to give us an update. We know Chucho, his papá, will keep us up to speed.” Maria winked as the ladies started to get up out of their seats. “Well now that we know you have a busy day coming up, we’ll let you get back to packing.”

The ladies were almost out the door when Maria popped her head back in. “You tell Javi I’ll make good on my promise to him. He breaks your heart, I will run him over with his father’s tractor.” You snorted, picturing the tiny woman rage driving a heavy piece of machinery.

“I wouldn’t put it past you Maria.”

She smiled as she closed the door behind her. You stared around the contents of your room before picking up another box. You better pick up your packing speed.

You practically collapsed as you opened the door to your apartment. Today had been a LONG day. You left for work at 7:00 AM, and were now finally returning home to your apartment at 7:50 PM. Whoever decided to cram every single end of the year activity into the last week of school needed to be seriously evaluated. Yesterday was the annual teachers vs. 5th graders kickball game as a way to celebrate before they were off to middle school, and tonight was the school music concert. The thought of having to go to the Alma Pierce Carnival tomorrow made you want to cry in exhaustion. Only two more days until Thursday.

You disregarded your usual routine of neatly putting all of your things in their rightful home before doing anything else, opting to drop everything by the door in a pile and crawl your way to take a shower. Stripping your clothes and throwing them in the hamper, you turned on the shower and cranked up the heat. Waiting for the water to warm, you looked at Javi’s toothbrush, still sitting next to yours in the cup on your sink. Now finally having a second for your brain to turn off of school mode, the sight of Javi’s toothbrush flooded you with three different feelings all at once.

You missed him like crazy

You couldn’t wait to see what he had planned for Thursday

You were hornier than a middle school boy on the brink of puberty

After going so long without sex (at most, it had been 5 times in the past 2 plus years), you had almost written it off as an afterthought. That was until Saturday, when Javier Peña causally decided to blow your mind with the best sex of your entire life, on repeat. As you stepped into the shower, you pictured where Javi stood only a few days ago, his tanned, muscular, very naked body soaping you up in your favorite body wash. You spent the rest of your shower wishing he was the one scrubbing the shampoo and conditioner into your hair, imagining his hands would eventually travel out of your hair to somewhere else.

You wrapped yourself up in your towel after emerging out of the shower, the sight of his toothbrush once again only making the ache between your legs more and more present. God, how bad did you have it that even his freakin’ toothbrush was making you horny?! Stupid magic hands and magic dick.

As you went into your bedroom, you shuffled through the very back of your nightstand. Patting your hand around the back right corner you found what you were looking for. Please let this thing be charged, it hasn’t even been used in god knows how long, you hoped, pulling the small bullet vibrator out of your drawer. Holding down the power button, you were relieved to hear the low hum vibrating in your hand. You laid down on your bed, head propped up on the pillows as you brought the vibrator between your legs. Running it up and down your clit, you could feel how wet you already were, wishing Javi was the one rubbing his thumb against your sensitive nerves, his thick fingers pressing inside you as-

Ringggggg, ringggggg, ringggggg

The phone ringing startled you so badly, you practically flung your vibrator across the room. Breathing heavily, you wrapped yourself back up in your towel and ran to the phone. Considering you and your mom always talked on Wednesdays and your brothers didn’t call unless you called them, it left one probable answer of who it could be. You tried to compose yourself as the phone rang a few more times, beet red and sweating from embarrassment that the person probably calling you was the one you were just thinking about with a vibrator between your legs.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Osita.” The low, sweet voice made your heart sing.

“It’s good to hear your voice again. I missed you.”

“Missed yours too. Sorry you didn’t call yesterday, Pops needed extra help after I got home from work yesterday. Are- are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, why?” You obviously weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how flustered you were.

“You just… you sound like you’re out of breath?”

“Oh, yeah, I um, I just got out of the shower.” It wasn’t a lie.

“You’re out of breath from getting out of the shower?” The thought of you wet and naked made Javi’s cock twitch.

“No, well, um, not exactly.” You were glad Javi couldn’t see you from the other end of the phone as you facepalmed yourself, jumbling over your words.

“What’s goin’ on Osita?” Javi spoke with a sneaking suspicion. He didn’t want to assume what he was thinking, but given what he had done to relieve himself in his shower earlier this morning, he couldn’t help but hope you had been just as riled up as he was.

You let out an audible sigh. Before you could try and come up with an answer, Javi spoke again.

“Osita, it’s okay. You can tell me.” You couldn’t even see him, but even picturing his sweet, brown, puppy dog eyes was enough to make you spill your secrets in an instant. God, could this man read your mind?!

“Well, I don’t know, it’s dumb. I- I was in the shower and I was thinking about Sunday morning.”

“And?” You could practically hear his smirk through the phone.

“And I was thinking about you, in there, with me. How much I wished you were there”

Javi had to bite down on his lip from letting out an audible groan. “I wish I was there too, baby. What else were you thinking about?”

“How much I missed your hands. How much I wished they were touching me.”

Bingo. There it was.

Javi dipped another toe into the water, getting the green light on his suspicions. “Yeah? Wished I was touching you? Were you touching yourself, baby? Thinking about me?”

Your face was so flushed. You were already mentally making space on your gravestone for “Magic, sexy words” under dick and hands. “Yeah, I was.” You paused for a moment, feeling completely un-confident in yourself. “Sorry, this is so embarrassing, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Baby, it’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s fucking sexy, is what it is. I can’t stop thinking about this weekend either, Osita. Came so hard this morning thinking about you sucking my dick in the shower. Fuck, I wish it would have been you instead of my fuckin’ hand.”

Oh shit. Were you about to do this?

“Javi, I- fuck, I’ve never done this before, like, had phone sex.” The innocence in your voice had him hard as a rock. He knew for a fact after this weekend, you were not shy about sex. Fuck, you were the one that came on to him first. But the thought of you sitting in your bed, hand between your legs picturing him? That pushed him over the edge.

“It’s okay, baby, we don’t have to if you-“

“No, I do. Fuck, I’m so horny for you.”

“ Dirty fuckin’ girl. Take off your clothes, baby.”

“Lucky for you, I’m fresh out the shower and already not wearing any.” Your little giggle on the other end had him palming at his jeans. He quickly got up to double check his door was locked, thanking whatever higher power was up there that his dad was still out working.

“Go lie down on your bed for me.” Grabbing your phone, you brought it to your room, and sat propped up against your pillows.

“O-Okay, now what?” He could tell you were still nervous, a stark contrast from the confident and bold woman he usually saw.

“Relax, baby. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You trust me?”

“Yeah. I do.” He knew you meant it.

“Okay, hermosa. Tell me how you’d want me baby. Tell me what you’d want me to do to you if I was there.” The low rasp of his voice through the phone had you shuttering.

“Fuck. I’d want you to kiss down my neck. Kiss every fucking inch of me.” The words began to spill out of you. “I’d want you to touch me. Put your fingers in me. Your hands are so big, they feel so good.”

“Touch yourself, Osita. Feel how fucking wet you are for me.” You set the phone next to you, pressing the speaker button, freeing both your hands. Slowly, you dipped a finger inside you, diving in and out of your entrance, the other hand slowly rubbing over your clit. It felt like nothing compared to Javi’s hands, slowly adding a second finger inside you to imitate the pleasure he had given you this weekend. He could hear your soft moans through the other end of the phone, causing him to undo his belt, and slide his pants down far enough he could free his aching cock, already hard from your sounds alone.

“It feels so good, Javi. Fuck I wish it was you inside me.”

He spit on his hand as he began stroking himself, nestling his phone between his chin and his shoulder. His breathy groans traveled through the phone.

“You touching yourself too?”

“Fuck, hermosa. The thought of you touching yourself has me so fucking hard. Yeah, baby, I am.”

“I wish I could suck your dick like I did on Sunday. You tasted so good, loved feeling you down my throat.”

“Wish I could taste you too. Pussy tastes so fucking sweet. Fuck, I’d spend hours in between your legs making you scream my name as many times as I could.”

That was an offer you would definitely take him up on.

The pace of both your hands became more rapid, both of you so worked up from your conversation.

“Fuck. Javi, I want you to fuck me so bad. Your dick feels so good.”

“Want me to fuck you, hermosa? Want me to bend you over, fuck you over your dresser so you can watch in your mirror how fuckin’ gorgeous you are when I make you come? Watch your pretty face when I fuck you full of me?”

Yes please.

Javi’s words had you losing your mind, the rubbing of your clit getting faster and faster, the wet sounds of your fingers in and out of your pussy filling the room. If you weren’t close before, the image that Javi had just planted in your head had you right on the edge.

“Javi- holy shit, fuck fuck, baby, I’m gonna-” the whimpers of your orgasm had Javi groaning, his hand wrapping tighter around his cock, imagining it was your cunt clenching down on him as you came.

“Such a good fucking girl, Osita. Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too.” Over your panting, you heard Javi muttering your name as he climaxed, the both of you breathing heavily.

There was silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“Javi, holy shit.” You laughed, shocked and thrilled by what you two had just done.

“Jesus Christ, Osita, I was just trying to call and ask about Thursday but this was a lot fucking better.” His voice still breathy, coming down from his high.

“Well I still wanna talk about Thursday, it’s the only thing getting me through this week, although this was helpful, to say the least.”

“Believe me, me too. Lemme just clean myself up really quick. Be right back.”

There was a grin across your face so wide, it hurt your cheeks. You waited patiently on the other end, Javi quickly coming back.

“You still there, Osita?”

“Yes sir.” You replied in an obnoxious voice.

“Weirdo.”

“Oh shhh, you love it.”

Fuck. There it was again. That stupid word. He knew you didn’t mean anything by it right? Did you mean anything by it? Even if you did, there’s no way in hell you’d admit that to yourself so soon. Right? You frantically responded before he could say anything.

“Anyways, sorry for my incredibly horny tangent, what are you thinking for Thursday?”

“All good, hermosa, well worth it. What time are you done with work on Thursday?”

“I’ll probably be home at 4:15? The kids are only there in the morning so I just have to finish packing up my room and then I can go!”

“Can I pick you up around 5:30? I was gonna make dinner reservations at 6:00.”

“Do I get to ask what dinner is?”

“You don’t do well with surprises, do you?” He chuckled.

“How’d you guess?”

“Just had a feeling. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“No, I won’t ruin the surprise, that’s no fun. I was gonna let you have full reign on the movie we go see. You made a fantastic pick on Sunday, figured it would be fun for you to pick again.”

“Do you want that to be a surprise too?”

“Absolutely. I trust you.” He smiled, the phrase you had already used twice making his heart skip a beat. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his voice a little more nervous than before.

“Is it uh, okay if I bring stuff to spend the night? That way I can just go in to work from your place?”

You bit down on your lip to try and contain your excitement. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“Me too.” In the background of Javi’s phone, you could hear a faint voice in the distance yelling out to him. Holding his hand over the receiver, you heard him faintly yell “What, Pops? I’m on the phone.” Followed by a muffled, “stupid fucking horse…”

“Hey Osita?” His voice once again full volume, trying to restrain his annoyance. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. My dad just came in and told me one of the horses got out again and it's a two man job to wrangle him back in.”

“It’s okay, have fun horse wrangling, I hope he isn’t too much of a pain in the butt.” You giggled, imagining how grumpy Javi would look trying to fight with this horse.

“Símon is the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met.”

“Glad someone else gets to take the title besides me. I’ll make sure to give him extra carrots when I meet him.”

“Won’t do you any good, bastard hates everyone. I’ll see you on Thursday, Osita.”

“Bye Javi, see you on Thursday.”

“Bye.”

The line on the other end clicked, leaving you laying on your bed and smiling at your ceiling. You rolled over, now facing the dresser and mirror on the other side of your room, the image of Javi’s filthy words from earlier seeping into your brain. You would never look at your dresser the same. Thursday couldn’t come fast enough.

Javi had never really been nervous when it came to women. Even from a young age, he was confident in himself and his abilities to flirt, pick up girls, and show them a good time. Hell, half his reputation from his time in the DEA was trying to put the moves on any halfway decent looking woman as a way to fight the tension and stress of his job. Javier Peña knew he had a way with women. What absolutely terrified him, was trying to date one. Regretfully, Javi didn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many women he had slept with over the years. He could, however, count how many women he had dated on one hand, and only needed 2 fingers. Lorraine Doogan, and you. He’d taken women on dates- the occasional movie, dinner, drinks at the bar, but the idea of dating someone with the hope to keep them around for as long as he could? That scared the shit out of him.

Javi had been a nervous mess all of Thursday. He called to double check your reservation time at dinner, made sure he had an outfit to change into in his car, and spent way longer than usual getting ready this morning. The thing was, Javi knew you liked him. Fuck, you were his girlfriend. But this wasn’t hanging out at your apartment like you had done this weekend, he wanted to do something special for you to show how much he really cared.

Around 12:30, he found his co-workers sitting around their desks chatting and eating lunch when Javi stopped by, taking a break from his morning of doing nothing, too distracted by tonight to focus.

“Hey, just so you idiots know, I gotta head out early today. Carter, can you finish up that Guadalajara report and give it to Morris before you leave?” Javi came out of his office to see Agent Miller and Carter staring at him with confusion, their mouths still half full of food. Javi never once had left early in the time that he had worked there. If anything, he was there after everyone had left. Ever since last week, Carter and Miller had noticed that Javier had been in a surprisingly better mood than normal. They had seen him smile, not once but multiple times, and had even said good morning to both of them, several days in a row.

“Uh, yeah, sure Peña. Where ya going? Gotta hot date?” Carter meant it as a joke, but Javi’s lack of witty response and embarrassment on his face left him with an open door to ask the question.

“Holy shit, you gotta date don’t you?!”

Javi didn’t say anything, just ran his hand over the bridge of his nose.

“He’s gotta fuckin’ date tonight, Carter!” Miller responded, outstretching his hand to high-five Javi. “My man!” Javi glared at the hand held high towards him before Miller quickly got the hint to get it out of his face.

Javi let out a deep breath. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell people about you. He really did. He was so happy you were his. He just knew that these two buffoons were about to give him ten pounds of shit when they found out you were the person he was going on a date with. “Yeah, I’m going on a fucking date, okay? Happy?”

“Shit, no wonder you’ve been in such a good mood for the past week, Peña. Who is it? How’d you meet her?” Carter stretched back in his chair, completely invested in any information Javi was willing to share. More silence. Javi put his hands on his hips and let out another deep breath. Before he could get out any words, it was like the gears had been turning and a lightbulb had gone off in Miller’s brain, filling him with absolute glee.

“Carter… you said Peña’s been in a good mood for what now, a week?” Miller smirked.

“Yeah, why?” Clearly, he was not catching on.

“How long ago did he go in to do the presentation at the elementary school?” Miller’s grin widening, hoping it wouldn’t take Carter too much longer for him to understand his question.

“Fuck, I don’t know, like a week ago-” He paused before his face lit up, even giddier than Miller’s. “OH SHIT. IT’S THE HOT TEACHER ISN’T IT?! YOU LUCKY SON OF A BITCH.” Miller and Carter were now playfully swatting at each other in shock over the news.

There was no point in trying to deny it. Javi figured he might as well bite the bullet on this one.

“Yeah, it is. Again, she’s got a fuckin’ name okay?”

“I can’t believe it. Damn, she must really like you, Peña. The other teachers practically chased us away when we went to try and talk to her.” While he hated the thought of his idiot co-workers harassing you week after week, it did fill him with a little pride knowing he was the only one you were ever interested in.

“You dirty dog. This the first time you’re seeing her since then?”

Javi met every question with more silence. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to disclose any information to them, but their persistence in getting you to Alma Pierce last Wednesday was the reason you found yourself in this situation.

“No way. You’ve already seen her already, haven’t you? And she still wants to see you again? Damn. Good for you, Peña.”

“So what are you two doing for this date tonight? Besides hopefully getting laid?” Carter and Miller high-fived each other.

Was that part of Javi’s plan tonight? Absolutely. He wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t walk, and once he was done, he wanted to do it again. But the jealous and possessive part of his brain lit up hearing other people talk about you in that way.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that or I will snap both your fucking necks, understood?” Javi’s voice was stern and commanding, making Carter and Miller rapidly nod their heads in unison, knowing that if Javi really wanted to, he would.

“Understood man.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

The two men stared sheepishly at each other. Javi took another deep breath before composing himself and focusing his gaze back on Carter.

“Guadalajara report on Morris’s desk by the time I get in tomorrow, got it?”

“Will do, boss.” Carter barely made eye contact with him. Javi nodded before turning around, heading back into his office and closing the door.

Peeking his head around the corner to make sure Javi’s door was all the way shut, Miller leaned back over to Carter for one last remark.

“They’ve gotta be fucking already, right?”

“Oh yeah. That’s the face of a man who’s happy and gettin’ laid.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“You can say that again.”

You were shocked at how smoothly your Thursday was going. Your class had lots of fun at their class party, showering you with plenty of hugs and goodbyes on their last day. With your efficiency and determination to pack up your classroom, everything was labeled and put away by 2:45, leaving you with plenty of time to say goodbye to your co-workers before heading out early.

Remembering Saturday’s disaster of trying to pick out an outfit, you had spent the whole week trying on potential choices to not leave yourself a frantic mess today. You had settled on a peach colored dress with small white flowers, having a feeling that Javi would like it just as much as the one you wore on Saturday. You had plenty of time to get ready, taking more time than usual to do your hair and makeup and try on your outfit one last time. By the time you were all ready to go, it still wasn’t even 5 yet, leaving you with enough time to do a brief clean (even though you had made your apartment spotless enough it would have passed a health inspection test) and turn on SportsCenter for a little as you anxiously awaited Javi’s arrival.

At 5:25, you heard a knock at your door, practically sprinting up off the couch to greet him. As you opened your door, his tall, handsome frame filled the doorway. He was in a navy blue button down, its short sleeves fitting deliciously over his biceps, with a pair of tight, dark washed jeans. In his hands, he held a bouquet of sunflowers, but looked like he was practically about to drop them when he saw you answer the door.

“Osita, you look… beautiful.” His jaw was already half slack as his eyes ran their way up and down your frame, taking in every detail about you.

“Thanks, Javi. You don’t look half bad yourself. You blushed as you tried to contain your grin.

“These are for you.” He outstretched his hand, passing the bright yellow flowers over to you.

“Phew, thank god, I was worried that you just wanted to carry them around all night for fun. Thank you, Javi. They’re beautiful.” Carefully placing them on your entryway table. You stared up at Javi, his lip darting around his bottom lip, practically undressing you with his eyes. You grabbed him by his shirt collar, pulling him through the doorway, your mouths meeting in an electric kiss. He reached down to grab behind your head, pulling you closer into him his tongue danced along your open mouth. God, you had missed him. The scent of his cologne and minty breath overwhelmed your senses, as you leaned further into him, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he reluctantly pulled back from your kiss.

“Wow. Definitely missed that.” You smiled up at him, your heart pounding as you caught your breath.

“Fuck, me too. I missed you, Osita.” His sweet brown eyes stared down at you, a smile growing under his mustache.

This man had been in your presence for less than a minute, and you could already feel an ache growing between your legs. His kiss had you begging for more.

“What time is it? You said our reservation is at 6:00, right?” You asked, glancing down at Javi’s watch as you bit down on your lip and reached up to give him a kiss on his neck. It was clear to both of you why you had asked the question. You knew how riled up you both were given the phone call you had just 2 days before, and having gone 5 days without him, you were really holding it together to not jump all over him.

“Hermosa… Fuck. I can’t believe I’m gonna say this.” He took a step back from you, causing you to cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. “Baby, if we don’t leave your apartment now, we’re not fucking leaving. I meant what I said on the phone. Osita, I’ve spent every goddamn day this week thinking about this, but I really want to take you out to celebrate, you deserve it.”

It took every ounce of you not to protest. He looked so good that you would have fucked him right there on the floor next to your shoe rack. But he was right, he had worked so hard to plan whatever you two were doing tonight. He cared about you. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were worth celebrating. No one had ever cared about you this much.

“You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you. Although with how fucking hot you look and the fact that you pretty much eye fucked me from the moment you walked through the door, this is about to be a a battle of iron wills, and right now my will power is about the strength of a limp noodle.” You both laughed, trying to regain your composure. Smirking, you looked at him to give him a proposition.

“I bet you 5 dollars.”

“You bet me 5 dollars, that what, Osita?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

“I bet you 5 dollars that you break before I do. I don’t think you can make it through the night. Not with the way your eyes are still trying to undress me.”

“You sure? You were the one practically crawling all over me as soon as I walked through the door.” He crossed his arms to mirror yours, enjoying the prospect of your competition.

“I may be stubborn, but I got all the patience in the world, Peña. And I don’t like to lose.” You shrugged and winked at him, giving a playful raise of your eyebrows.

You drove him absolutely fucking crazy.

Leaning down, he pulled you in to kiss you again, even more intense than the one you had just shared. Your tongues and teeth clashed, making you moan between your connected mouths, before suddenly pulling away and grabbing his keys, dangling them in your breathless face.

He looked at you with a devilish grin. “You’re on baby. You ready to go?”

“What?! That’s not fair, you can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to function normally!”

“Never said it wasn’t part of the rules. Two can play at this game.” He leaned back down into your ear, his mustache tickling your neck as the low rasp of his voice serenaded you. “Besides, Osita, like you said, you have all the patience in the world, right?”

“Javier I don’t know your middle name Peña, I swear to God, you really are trying to kill me.” You both laughed as you grabbed your purse and began to put on your shoes.

“Jesús. Javier Jesús Peña.

Something about him saying his name made you smile. Maybe it’s because his name was yours. “Cute. Good to know, in case of emergencies, such as times like these. Alright, I’m ready, and I’m making space in my wallet to be 5 dollars richer tonight.”

As Javi opened his passenger side car door for you, you basked in the warm familiarity of sitting next to him while he drove. While his car was already neat, you could tell he must have gone through and cleaned in since Sunday. After he backed out of your apartment’s parking lot and you two headed on your way, his free hand almost immediately found its way to the skin of your thigh exposed under your dress, giving it a slight squeeze before tracing his fingers up and down your leg.

“Music?” He looked at you, smiling, reminiscing on your last drives’ sing a long.

“You don’t just want to listen to the Grease Soundtrack on repeat every time we drive?” You giggled as you reached into his glove box, shuffling back through the CD’s, noticing a new one that definitely wasn’t there this weekend. You quickly pulled it out, showing it to Javi.

“This one wasn’t here on Sunday?” You looked surprised by the Queen’s Greatest Hits disc you now had in your hand.

“Oh yeah, well you said they were your favorite band. I don’t know a ton of music by them, but figured you may want to listen to them if we’re driving.” He tried to play it off casually. You didn’t need to know that he drove to not one, but two stores after work this week to find that CD for you.

“Wait did you- Did you get this just for me?” Your surprise was so genuine. Not only did he care enough to even remember your favorite band, he went out and got you a CD so you could listen to it in his car while you drove together? You couldn’t have been more thankful to have been stopped at a red light as you leaned over the center console, grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a kiss. You only released him as you watch your peripheral vision turn from red to green. You both pulled back with smiles on your faces, Javi putting an even tighter grasp around your leg.

“Play it. You’re in charge of music tonight, Osita.”

“Figured you needed to let me be in charge of at least something, huh?” You rolled your eyes and snickered under your breath as you pushed the CD in and pressed play, the beat of Another One Bites the Dust thumping through the speakers

“This song is dedicated to you after you lose our bet tonight.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t like to lose, huh Osita?

“I will admit being overly competitive is one of my biggest character flaws. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played sports will do that to ya. I always wanted to play with them, and they wouldn’t let me play unless I proved I was good enough, so instead of crying about it, I just practiced to try and make myself better than them.”

Javi couldn’t have been less surprised. Given your stubbornness, there were few things he’d put past you.

“Did you play any sports as a kid?” You asked curiously.

“I did swimming and some baseball. Always liked swimming more. Parents would call me el pez. (fish) They would always tell me that they’d have to drag me out of the water whenever we went to the pool or beach. Swam in college a little too, but was never super serious about it. What about you? I’m gonna assume yes.”

“My brothers played everything, so yes, I’ve pretty much tried every sport under the sun at some point. Hockey was always my favorite though.”

“I’m gonna be real honest with you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hockey game in my entire life.”

“That’s criminal. Well considering you’re from southern Texas, it makes sense that a game involving ice isn’t very popular. Did you know Texas has an NHL team?”

“Wait, actually?”

“Yeah, actually. I don’t think anyone in Texas knows you do. The Dallas Stars. They were actually pretty good this year. Lost in the first round of the playoffs like the Blackhawks did, so now my only hope is that the Red Wings lose but it physically hurts me to say that I think they’re gonna win it all this year.”

Javi nodded, trying his best to follow along even though he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. Embarrassed with your rambling, you quickly retracted. “Sorry, I know you don’t really care about any of that.”

“You care about it, which means I’ll try my best to learn, Ostia.”

Your eyes shifted up from your lap where they had been staring to meet Javi’s gaze, soft and genuine. It shouldn’t have surprised you, but the feeling of knowing he actually cared never ceased to amaze you.

“Okay. All you need to know for the sake of this conversation is Blackhawks- good, Red Wings- bad.”

“Easy enough. I can remember that.” He winked at you before reaching to grab your hand and lock it with his.

You spent the last few minutes of your car ride in a comforting silence, Queen quietly playing in the background as you watched the sky slowly melt into a pink and orange sunset.

As you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, you looked at the sign above the entrance reading “Andiamos on Main.” You’d never been here before, but you felt like the name sounded familiar from hearing your co-workers who had gone on anniversaries, birthday dinners or big events to celebrate.

“Javi, this place is supposed to be really nice.”

“I know.”

“Like, people come here for birthdays and anniversaries and special things that only happen once a year.”

“You only finish school once a year, too. You’re special to me, Osita. You deserve it.”

“But I-"

“I’m not letting you argue with me on this one, baby. Please.”

As much as you wanted to, how could you argue with his sweet face, staring at you with his pleading brown eyes? You would have been thankful for him to have gotten you sandwiches again, let alone take you somewhere nice and insist you deserve it.

“Fine. Thank you, Javi. This is the nicest thing someone has done for me in a long time.”

“You deserve it, Osita. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

He leaned over to give you a quick kiss before turning off the engine of the car and quickly unbuckling himself so he could walk around the car and open the passenger door for you.

“Ready to eat?”

“Javi, there will be very few times in life where that answer will be no.”

When you walked into the restaurant, your suspicions were confirmed. This place was nice. The space was dimly lit with soft piano playing in the background, filled with other couples and large groups, all dressed nicely and casually chatting. You were surprised how busy the restaurant was as Javi took your hand to lead you through the small crowd in front of the hostess stand.

“Hi, how can I help you two?” The woman at the front asked as you two approached her.

“Hi, I have a reservation at 6:00. Should be under Peña.”

“Alright, let me just check real quick and then we’ll get you seated!” You watched as her fingers flicked through the notebook she had in front of her, a concerned look creeping up her face as she began to back track and flip through previous pages.

“You said Peña at 6:00, tonight, correct?”

“Mhhmm.” He nodded, also starting to look concerned by her confusion.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Peña, it looks like your reservation was for yesterday at 6:00 PM.”

Javi may have looked worse than he did when you had run into Lorraine a few days ago. “Wait, I uh-, it should be for today. It’s for June 3rd? The 3rd at 6:00 PM?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Peña. The 3rd was yesterday. Today is the 4th.”

You could feel the panic shedding from his body. The hand that was holding yours now started to become sweaty. The look on Javi’s face was sheer terror. “No, today’s the 3rd? Today’s the 3rd, right?” He looked frantically back and forth between you and the hostess before she flipped her notebook around to face you both, accompanied by her digital watch. In scratch writing under June 3rd, sat “Peña, party of 2, 6:00 PM.” And on her watch read “Thursday, June 4th.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…” he muttered himself underneath his breath, trying to keep his composure. “Are there any seats left? Anything at the bar, even?” Part of him already knew the answer, but was desperate to not give up yet.

“Well, we have a corporate event tonight so it’s extra busy. Right now there’s at least a 2 hour wait, and that’s being generous, and no seating at the bar. Again, so sorry for the confusion.”

He stood frozen in shock. He wanted to scream at himself. How could he have fucked this up? The guilt and panic flooded over him, leaving him speechless. He tried so hard to rebuttal- think of something, ANYTHING. Stuck in his chaotic train of thought, he felt your hand rub over his arm and heard your sweet voice.

“That’s okay! Thank you for checking! Mistakes happen, not a big deal at all. Come on, Jav, let’s go!” This time, you were the one leading him back through the crowd, him, following you helplessly, trying to think of anything to say. As you finally exited through the doors, the golden sunset shining down into the parking lot, Javi grabbed down tightly on your hand, stopping in his tracks.

“Fuck, Osita. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I fucked this up. I could have fucking swore today was the 3rd. I’m such a fucking idiot I-“

“Javi.”

He stopped. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Were you mad? Angry? Going to agree with him and tell him that he was a fucking idiot? He wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.

“Do you know how many times I took my class to gym on the wrong day when I first started at Alma Pierce?”

He looked at you blankly. It was almost like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“A lot. It took me a month and a half. I could have sworn they went to gym every Monday from 2:00-3:00, and at 1:55 every Monday, I would March them down to the gym for Mr. Luíz to tell me I had gym tomorrow from 2:00-3:00. It literally took me having to write it on my hand each Monday- don’t go to gym! For me to finally remember. It’s okay, Javi. I know you’re gonna beat yourself up about this. Please, please don’t. The fact that you even wanted to do something this nice for me is more than enough. I don’t care where we go, if I get to spend time with you, then I’m happy.”

If I’m with you, then I’m happy. The words danced around his brain, trying to make sure he was comprehending what he had just heard. He had completely fucked up your plans and not only did you not care, you were happy? He was the reason you were happy? That was a sentence he was positive he had never heard before.

You stepped into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you gazed into his eyes, still pooling with panic. “I like you, Javi. I like you a lot. You could have taken me to go get hot dogs from the gas station and I would have been excited. Maybe not excited for what they would have done to me after I ate them, but if I got to do it with you, I wouldn’t have cared.” He let out a small huff under his breath, half a smile creeping across his somber face. “There are plenty of places for us to eat, we still have a movie to go see, and when we get back, I am so horny I think I could spontaneously combust.” It relieved you to see the smile grow wider, a genuine laugh now coming out of him. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what, Osita?”

“Promise me you won’t beat yourself up over this.”

“Baby, I-“

“Promise me, Javier Jesús Peña. Or I will beat you up enough for the both of us” you poked your finger into his chest, playfully.

“Promise.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, savoring the sweet and familiar smell of your shampoo as his nose met your hair. “Going full name on me, huh?”

“Told you, it was good to know in case of emergencies.” You laughed as he shook you, wrapped in the broadness of his arms. “There’s a diner down the road we passed on the way in, I could definitely eat a whole mess of pancakes right now.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you liked breakfast.”

“I don’t joke when it comes to breakfast, Peña” you winked before you stretched up to peck him on the lips. “Let’s go.” You reached to grab his hand, leading him back to his truck. Trailing behind your lead, he soaked up every ounce of the image of you. An image he’d never get sick of.

You didn’t even bother looking at the menu as you picked a booth in the back corner of the small diner down the street. Javi ordered a sandwich while you shamelessly ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes with whip cream on top. You could tell Javi was still upset with himself, staying relatively quiet since you two had unexpectedly changed your plans. You had a feeling there wasn’t much you could say at this point that would make him feel any less guilty- you would have felt the same way. Looking for a way to get him out of his head, you pulled out a kids menu and a wrapped pack of crayons tucked behind the condiments at your table, scribbling on it before sliding across the table to Javi.

“Hangman?” Javi looked at you, chuckling.

“We don’t have to play if you don’t want to, just thought it could be fun. Figured this was better than me coming across the booth to beat you up because I can tell you’re still mad at yourself.”

This set off a more genuine laughter from him, shaking his head as he crossed his arms and leaned back in the booth. “I don’t know, Osita, after you told me you used to play hockey, you’ve got me a little nervous that you could take me out.” You both snickered at the idea of you trying to take down Javi. “Sure, let’s play.”

“P?” He questioned, staring down at the dashed lines.

“P? That’s what you’re gonna start with?” You drew a circle for the head.

“What’s wrong with P?”

“Vowels first! Makes it way easier!”

“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve played hangman since I was in elementary school.”

“Which is why I’m an expert, seeing that I’m in an elementary school practically every day. Next guess.”

“E?”

“See, there you go!” You marked down several spots after Javi’s guess.

“Okay, how about M?”

“That doesn’t mean stop guessing vowels, dummy. But yes, lucky for you there is an M.” You laughed as Javi continued guessing letters and began eating as your food arrived. Through a bite full of your pancakes you gave Javi a dumbfounded look.

“Javi… you seriously don’t know what it says? You can go hunt down drug lords in South America but hangman on a kids menu at a diner is what’s gonna do you in?” You both snorted as Javi tried to defend himself.

“Osita, those are two completely different things.”

“Well I’m not gonna lie Javi, one seems significantly easier than the other.”

“Fine, I’ll guess. What movie are we seeing?”

“Great work, detective.” You remarked sarcastically.

“Gimme that.” He said, snatching the paper from you as he began to draw his own lines. “Your turn.”

“Okay, thank goodness, I was worried we were going to miss the movie with how long it was taking you to guess. I'm starting with A.”

Javi begrudgingly noted down some letters. You continued guessing, quickly filling up the lines until you had figured out the clue.

“Oh, Jurassic Park! I’ve been wanting to see that! Have you seen the first one?”

“Jesus, that was fast. No, but I figured it would be one you’d like.

“I was secretly hoping you’d pick that one, so one point for you, Javier Peña.” You winked at him as you took a final bite of your pancakes. “I know this wasn’t the dinner you had planned, but it was still really good. And we still have a movie to go see and plenty of movie snacks to eat. You ready to go?” Javi smiled at you, nodding, still in disbelief how content you were with how things were going.

Your waiter came around to collect your plates and give you the bill, Javi insisting on paying, despite your attempt to physically try to open his hand and put cash in it. As you made your way out to the car, you reached down to grab his hand, embracing the familiarity of your fingers interlocking, his grasp engulfing yours. Your drive to the movie theater included several more tracks of Queen sing alongs, Javi’s favorite notably being your enthusiastic rendition of Don’t Stop Me Now. With the windows slightly rolled down, the wind blew through your hair, a smile stretched across your face. You were so wrapped up in singing, you hadn’t noticed Javi’s eyes locked on you, completely enamored by your presence. Part of him just wanted to say fuck it to the movie. Instead, take you back to your apartment, fuck, to have you in his truck and show you how thankful he was for you.

As you pulled into the movie theater, you noticed that Javi had parked in a far back corner, a sizable walk from the front entrance. Before you could ask anything, his mouth was crashing into yours, running his hand through the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer in. His other hand snaked under the hem of your dress, rubbing along your thigh before reaching under your underwear, his fingers grazing along your entrance. Your hand mirrored, reaching across to grab his face, before planting kisses along his, working your way up to his ear. As much as you wanted to say nothing, you knew you at least had to tease him a little. You could hear his heavy breaths as you bit at his earlobe and whispered.

“You owe me 5 dollars.”

He pulled back, shaking his head, his breathing still labored. “Jesus Christ. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You leaned back in, planting another kiss on his neck before pulling back. “I told you, I don’t lose.” You winked before giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tell ya what, because I’m such a gracious winner, I’ll donate my 5 dollars towards buying our movie snacks, okay?”

“Doesn’t that defeat the whole bet?” He laughed at you.

“Well I needed to find a way to let you get me to buy something on our date so you don’t pay for anything, and I figured you can’t argue with me if I use my winnings from our bet.”

“Fair enough.” He sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing.

“Thank you. You ready to go watch some dinosaurs?” You nudged him before hopping out of the passenger’s side door. Javi sat there for a moment, regaining his composure before following beside you into the theater, his hand now taking its familiar spot locked in yours.

Javi couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a movie theater. He hadn’t gone in Colombia, probably making it close to a decade since stepping foot into one. Once Javi had told you how long it had been, you wanted to make sure you did everything you could to make it the best experience possible for him. After getting your tickets, you made your way to concessions, getting much more than your 5 dollar bet’s worth of snacks.

“Do you really think we need this much?” Javi asked, now carrying the frozen Coke and M&M’s you had handed him, you carrying a large popcorn.

“Well first of all, you haven’t been to the movies in forever, so I want you to get the full movie snacking experience. Second, you ate two full bags of popcorn by yourself when we watched Star Wars, so I’m honestly worried this isn’t enough.” Mentally noting that Javi had already had 3 handfuls of M&M’s on your way to your seats.

You were thankful that you were able to find two seats in the top middle of the theater, considering how crowded it was. You could feel a shift in his demeanor, like he was uneasy with how many people filled the room, constantly scanning back and forth. It wasn’t that Javi minded crowds, it was what could happen in a crowd if something went wrong that made him anxious. He had seen it first hand, and knew how poorly it could end. He hadn’t been somewhere this crowded in a long time, but with his instincts kicking in to overdrive, he could feel himself starting to panic at his current state.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Uh yeah, um, I’m fine, it’s just, um-“

You patted the seat next to you, ushering Javi to sit down. Once he did, you reached over to grab his hand and squeeze it and rest your head on his shoulder. You had seen this happen before with your brothers, especially your oldest, after he returned back from his first tour of active duty. While you could never truly understand how it felt, the last thing you wanted to do was make Javi feel like you weren’t there for him. “It’s okay. It’s more crowded than I would have thought too. We can stay here or if you need to move or go outside for a little we can do that too. Whatever you need.” You could feel a little of his tension ease as he kissed the top of your head.

“No, I’m okay, thanks, Osita.” He felt a wave of relief wash over him that some way or another, you just seemed to know what he needed to snap him out of his funk.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. I promise I’ll keep you safe from the dinosaurs.” You giggled while you looked up at him, Javi giving you a playful shake as he moved his arm to wrap over your shoulder, his thumb stroking back and forth across your skin as the lights lowered and previews started.

As the movie is played, you found Javi’s hand somewhere on your body at all times. Holding your hand, wrapped around you, rubbing your leg, even playing with your hair as you rested your head against the width of his strong shoulders. The other hand was either in the popcorn or reaching down to eat the rest of the M&M’s. Javi really couldn’t have told you what was happening on screen, his eyes had barely left you, watching every reaction to what was happening. He was soaking in every moment, noticing when you laughed, excitedly poking him when something big happened, trying to fill him in so he wasn’t lost on what was happening. He was surprised when you let out a little shriek and grabbed on to him as one of the dinosaurs popped out on screen, even though you insisted that you weren’t scared, just weren’t expecting it. As the movie ended and credits began rolling, you looked over to already find Javi looking at you.

“So, what’d ya think? Good first movie theater experience?”

“It was great, Osita.”

“Good, I’m glad. Enjoy your snacks?” You laughed, looking at how the popcorn and M&M’s were completely gone, the frozen Coke only filled with a few sips worth left.

“Oh shit, yeah, uh sorry…” realizing that he had pretty much eaten everything, oblivious to everything that wasn’t you.

“It’s okay. I figured given what happened with the last movie we watched. You haven’t been to the movies in who knows how long, I wanted to make sure you got everything you wanted.” Javi wasn’t sure how you did it, but everything you did and said had him falling harder and harder for you. You were everything he wanted. You hadn’t cared when he fucked up the dinner reservations, you wanted to make sure he had fun at the movies, all you wanted was to be with him. Leaning over, he grabbed your face with both hands, engulfing you in a long, deep kiss. He didn’t care if people stared, in fact, he hoped they did. He hoped they’d see how lucky he was that you were his.

“Wow. What was that for? Not that I’m complaining or anything.” You smirked, pulling away from his grasp.

He knew it. He knew he couldn’t say it, but he knew it. He settled for what he could say instead.

“I really like you, Osita. I like you a lot. Thank you for tonight. I, um… I, just, thank you.”

“Javi, what are you thanking me for? I should be the one thanking you. You’re the one who wanted to do all of this for me. I really like you too, thank you for making tonight so special.”

Kissing the top of your head, he bent down to whisper in your ear. “Tonight’s not over yet, Osita. This isn’t the only part of our date I’m about to make special for you, baby.” He couldn’t help himself. He had spent the whole movie thinking about sneaking his hands further and further up your dress, how perfect you were, blissed out and moaning his name as he was inside you.

“Jesus, Javi.” You shook your head, speechless. “I don't know what the hell we’re still doing standing here then. I’ll Tyrannosaurus Rex my way through this crowd for you to get me back home ASAP.” He laughed as you grabbed his hand leading him down the stairs and through the crowded lobby back to his car.

The sexual tension in his car on the drive home was so thick, you would have needed a chainsaw to cut through it. You had both agreed, unlike Sunday, you would both have enough self control to make it back to your apartment, but with the way Javi was staring at you, and how dangerously close his hands were getting under your dress, the prospect of making it another 10 minutes home seemed practically impossible. When you finally reached the parking lot of your apartment, you practically threw yourself out of the car as you and Javi stumbled up the stairway, bodies crashing into one another as your mouths met furiously, hands frantically roaming over each other's bodies. You had no idea how you were able to get out your key and open your door as Javi’s chest pressed into your back, kissing your neck as your hands shakily unlocked your entrance to your apartment. The moment the door closed behind you, your clothes both quickly were shed, leaving a trail of items to your bedroom. Your bodies banged along the hallway as you shuffled your way to the bedroom, your mouths never leaving one another’s. Javi practically threw you onto your bed before shuffling his boxers down to pool around his ankles, his broad and handsome presence hovering over you. He knelt down to the edge of the bed, nudging your knees apart to reveal your pussy, glistening from its wetness.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over your pussy, baby. Always so fucking wet.” Javi mewled before breathing in heavily and licking a long, broad strip along your clit. His tongue swirled around your heat as your hips bucked towards his face. One hand grasped your sheets while the other ran through his hair, tugging at the dark, curled ends as you moaned. You wanted him so badly to be inside of you, to fill the emptiness you were clenching around. Before you could ask, he slipped not one, but both fingers into you. His hand felt enormous compared to yours, his fingers so much more satisfying as they hit inside you over and over. As both digits curled up and his mouth sucked over your clit, you whimpered breathlessly.

“Javi, you feel so good. Fuck me, holy shit.”

“Patience Hermosa, I will, don’t worry.” He winked before diving back down between your legs. His free hand wrapped around your leg, grabbing your hip as you squirmed from how good he felt. The repetitive motion of his thick fingers plunging in you mixed with the skilled movement of his tongue across your sensitive nub had you already clenching down, close to your end. You knew with how worked up you had been this week without him, and what a goddamn menace he was, it wouldn’t take long for you to be on the verge of screaming his name in pleasure.

“Baby, fuck, fuck I’m so close, Javi, I-“

Before you could finish your sentence, your orgasm flooded through your body, legs shaking and head thrown back as you moaned. The pleasure was so intense, and so much better than you could have even remembered. As you came back down from your high, Javi slowly pulled his fingers out from you before sucking them clean, your juices still smeared across his smirking face. “You taste so fucking good, Osita.”

“Jesus, Javi… holy shit.” You breathed deeply, trying to regain your composure. He leaned over you, kissing up your body, stopping to take each nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue before making his way up your neck.

“I told you I meant what I said on the phone, baby. Is that okay with you?” His breath was low and raspy as he whispered into your ear.

“Yes, oh my god, I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said all week. I haven’t been able to look at my dresser the same since.” You both let out light, airy laughs before Javi had picked you up and carried you over to your dresser before sitting you down on top of it. You spread your legs open, pussy still slick and shining from your last orgasm as Javi spit down into his hand before stroking his dick, already hard and desperate to be inside you. He then helped you shimmy down, smacking your ass as you turned around and placed your arms on the dresser. Looking up at the mirror in front of you, you could see the hungry look in Javi’s eyes as he ran his cock up and down your folds, collecting your slick. He kissed your shoulders as he rubbed his hands down the side of your body, squeezing your hips. “Javi, please.” You whimpered, the throbbing between your legs making it feel like he was taking years.

“What happened to all that patience, Osita?” He smirked as he grabbed another handful of your ass. You were so desperate at this point your brain was unable to form words, only moans pleading for Javi to give you what you wanted. “So needy, huh? I’ll give you what you want, baby girl, don’t worry..” Slowly, he made his way into you, the sting of the sweet stretch of his cock making you breathless. As he bottomed out inside of you, a low groan from him mimicked yours. “So fucking tight, hermosa, fuck.”

“Javi, move, please.” You were practically begging at this point.

“I will, Osita. Look in the mirror first, baby.” Your eyes shifted off of the oak of the dresser under your arms and up to the image of Javi’s body towering behind you. His tanned and toned chest, his dark curls and mustache, the lust pooling in his eyes, Jesus, he really was the hottest man you’ve ever seen.

“I want you to see how pretty you are when I fuck you. See what a good fucking girl you are when you take me so well, when I fuck you full of me. Can you do that for me?” As your eyes met his in the mirror frantically nodding, he began to move himself in and out of you, taking his time. Almost as if he was savoring how good each thrust felt. Each time he pushed back into you, your gasps became louder, the feeling intensifying. The spot he was hitting was so sweet, but your body was pleading for more.

“Fuck Javi, give me more, please baby. Fuck me harder.” Your eyes once again locking with his, a delightfully surprised look spreading across his face.

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you harder, hermosa?” You once again nodded rapidly, biting down on your bottom lip. “Use your words, pretty girl.” He teased, slowing his pace enough to make you squirm.

“Fuck me harder, Javi. Please baby, you feel so good, I want more.” Javi knew his size was larger than average. He definitely hadn’t been gentle with you, but he hadn’t been overly aggressive, not wanting to push your limits and make you uncomfortable. But right now, he had you in the palm of his hand, begging him for more.

“You sure you want more, baby?” He slowly began to speed up his thrusts, waiting for your answer.

“Mhmmmm.” You whined at the ridges of his cock rubbing against your walls. “Give it to me, please.”

With that, his pace changed drastically, his hips snapping into you repeatedly. You could feel every inch of him stretch you out in a way that you couldn’t describe. The way his dick pounded into, filling you so deeply and intensely had your screams echoing off the walls of the room.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, oh my god.”

“Yeah? Feel good, Osita? My good fucking girl, taking me so well.”

Suddenly, his arm reached under yours, pulling you up so your back was flushed with his chest. He wrapped his arm over your breasts, his big hand engulfing one while his other hand reached down for your clit. The added pleasure made the building feeling in your stomach creep closer and closer, knowing you were about to snap. His calloused fingertips rubbed back and forth as he leaned into you, his mouth grazing along your neck. “Look at yourself, baby. I know you’re close. I want you to see how pretty you are when you come all over my dick.” Your eyes watched Javi’s hand rub faster along your sensitive bundle of nerves before shifting up to see the damp, dark curls stuck to his forehead, a sheen covering his body in sweat. Each snap of his hips hit harder and harder, you feeling your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock. With only a few more thrusts, you felt something snap inside you, your legs shaking as you moaned Javi’s name as you came. Watching you had Javi reeling, his thrusts becoming more frantic as your eyes met in the mirror before he spoke.

“Where do you want me, baby?”

“Inside me. It’s yours Javi. It’s all fucking yours.”

Your words were all he needed before he took one last pump, spilling inside you. You watched in the mirror as his jaw went slack as his muscles tense. You felt his spend covering your walls, his cock pulsing as he finished. He draped his body over yours, your heavy breathing syncing for a few moments before he pushed himself back up, slowly pulling out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling the mix of you running down the side of your leg. Suddenly, you felt Javi’s body press into yours, his arm snaking between your legs as two thick fingers pushed into you, making you gasp.

“Will you keep me in you, hermosa? So I know you’re all fucking mine?”

“Yes, Jesus Christ.” You whispered under your breath. He watched you nod as he pushed into you one last time before pulling out his fingers and kissing down your back, chuckling as he pulled away.

“Nope, just me, Javi. Go lay down on the bed, baby. Let me get something to clean you up.”

“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you still laid slumped over the dresser. “I would move but I think you fucked me so good my legs don’t work anymore.” He snuck up behind you, picking you up and carrying you over to your bed before plopping you down and heading to the bathroom, leaving you giggling, staring at your ceiling. He returned with a warm washcloth, gently wiping you up before tossing it into your laundry basket and climbing under your covers with you. You scooted close to him, your head resting on his chest, arm draped across and one leg hiked up, resting on top of him. His strong arms wrapped around you, tracing circles along your back as he kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you, Javi.”

“For what, Osita?”

“This was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“You must have been on a lot of shitty dates then, Hermosa.”

“I’m being serious, you goofball! I mean yes, I think before this, the most romantic thing someone had done for me was when Paul actually remembered our anniversary, and then asked me if we could go to his favorite sports bar instead of the nice restaurant I picked because he didn’t want to miss a football game that was on that night. But I’m not kidding, the fact that you wanted to spend time with me, let alone plan something nice, I don’t know… it just really means a lot. So thank you.”

Javi paused for a moment before he responded. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Happy, relieved even, that you had such a good time on a date that anyone else probably would have deemed a disaster? Thankful that you wanted to spend just as much time with him as he did with you? Heartbroken that there had been one too many idiots who had come in and out of your life that had treated you like shit and you had accepted that was as good as it got?

“Osita, I said it before and I’ll say it again, you deserve it. You’re beautiful and smart and sexy as hell and even if you won’t admit it, you deserve someone who sees that. I still can’t believe that you think that I’m worth any of your time, but I’m sure as hell glad that you do.” He kissed your head again as you nuzzled it closer to his chest, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Before you could say anything he finished with, “I sure as fuck hope that I never meet Paul either, cause I’d give that fucking guy a piece of my mind.”

You let out a small huff as you looked up at him. “Ease up there, cowboy. Don’t worry, I think everyone I know has already given him enough shit to last him 3 lifetimes. You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you.” You stretched up to plant a soft kiss on his lips as you reached up to cup his face.

“Of course, baby. I lo-“ He stopped himself as quickly as possible. His brain hadn’t even processed the words that were coming out of his mouth. There was no fucking way he could say it, even if he knew it. He just prayed you hadn’t heard his slip up before he continued. “I really like you, and I’m so glad you had a good time tonight. I did too.”

“Can I see you again this weekend? I know you have to work tomorrow and we just saw each other today and-“

“Yes, Osita. I’d love to see you again this weekend. I promised my dad I’d help him with some things around the ranch tomorrow night and Saturday morning but other than that, I’m all yours.” He leaned down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your neck as you pulled away.

“Perfect. Can I pick something for us to do since you got to pick what we did today?”

“Is it a surprise, or do I get to know?” He asked mockingly.

“If yours got to be a surprise, so does mine. I don’t have anything specific picked out yet, but I have a few ideas.”

“Can’t wait to see what it is, Osita.”

You glanced over at your alarm clock, forgetting the fact that you didn’t have to set it again until August, and Javi still had one more day until his weekend. “What time do you usually get up in the morning?”

“Why?” He asked, fingers still tracing up and down your shoulders.

“So I can get up with you in the morning and make you breakfast and say goodbye to you before you go to work.” Your fingers mirrored his, circling over his bare chest.

“Hermosa, it’s your first day of summer, you’re not getting up with me in the morning, you get to sleep in.”

“What if I want to get up with you in the morning? You gonna force me to stay in bed until you leave?”

“Fine, I’m not waking you up on purpose, but if you’re awake and want to get up with me I’m not going to say no.”

“Well then I will see you in the morning, bright and early.”

“Okay, Osita. I’m gonna go run down to my car and grab my bag, are you okay if I leave the door unlocked so you don’t have to let me back in?”

“Sure. I’ll be right here, unless you’ve pulled off hiding your serial killer act this long and you and the rest of your gang have found the perfect opportunity at this moment.”

“Dork. I’ll be back up in a few, okay?”

“Safe travels out there.”

He laughed as he collected his clothes scattered on the floor trailing down the hallway to put on before heading out the door. You rolled over, inhaling the scent Javi had left behind on your pillow, his space still warm from his body. You pulled your covers further over you, snuggling in closer to the space he just was in. Even without him physically next to you, the feeling of knowing he would be back next to you soon flooded your body with a sense of comfort. Not realizing how tired you were until this moment, you felt your eyelids begin to droop, growing heavier with each blink. You swore to yourself you could stay awake the few minutes Javi would be gone, but by the time he returned back up with his bag, he was greeted with the soft sound of snores filling your bedroom. He set his things down at the end of the bed before turning off the lights and stripping himself of his clothes once again before crawling under the covers, spooning you, wrapping your body in his arms.

“Dulces sueños, mi amor. Te adoro. Todo es más bonito si estás conmigo. Soy tan afortunado de tenerte” (Sweet dreams, my love. I adore you. Everything is more beautiful when I’m with you. I’m so lucky to have you.)

He kissed your head as he pulled you in closer. He slowly breathed out, a sense of peace and comfort filling his body. He took one more moment to savor your presence before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep next to you. There were few things in life that Javier Peña had ever been absolutely sure of. You were one of those few things.

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