#I didn't even drink that much I was just v emotional

[sonsband]

Skfkkf the lotr quote is just two unlikely friends admitting they are friends U u U also legolas gets gimli a box so that he can see the y/n weirdoes better xoxo

I don't know the context I've just seen the memes and was like what did I even do to retroactively make our ancestors hate each other. and I support giving short people boxes for better angles of attack.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 20 pt. 2- I Do

Summary: It's wedding time, baby.

Word Count: 17.4K (.....I'm so sorry)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (holy SHIT you guys, I really went balls to the wall on this one, I fear), kind of semi-public sex (you already know these horndogs are going at it again), More getting caught (Steve is causing his own problems at this point), wedding things!!, family dynamics, mentions of death/grief, lots of emotions, alcohol/drinking, so many feelings (grab the tissues, friends), Javi being adorable with kids, Javi being so in LOVE it HURTS?!? So much joy and happiness because Javi deserves the world and more

A/N: HELLO. Part 2 is finally finished *insert Spongebob narrator voice* 4 years later 🫠 Omg y'all, thank you SO much for bearing with me as I finish this, it has been a labor of love like no other, but I am so excited to finally share our favorite couple's special day and finally GET THESE TWO MARRIED 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I would very much be lying if I said I didn't cry multiple times writing this chapter 🥺 I can't believe these two are actually getting married- words can't express how thankful I am for everyone who's wanted to stick around and read my silly little story to see these two make it to their wedding day- your support and kind words mean more to me than you will ever know 💛 Poorly beta'd bc I'm the worst, also, I've seen that sometimes people have issues reblogging things with comments that are this long (my apologies), but comments and reblogs make me wanna cry and throw up with joy, so it means a lot to me if you're able to leave a comment if it won't let you reblog with one!!!

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Never had you been so anxious to walk in a straight line. 

Because truth be told, that was all you needed to do to walk down the aisle- walk in a straight line. 

But when that straight line meant the walk to finally get to marry your future husband, to take his last name, to start the beginning of your forever together, not to mention kissing him in front of all your closest family and friends, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach swirling in anticipation as you waited for your ceremony to start. 

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi asked, his thumb gently stroking your hand that he had been holding since the moment he saw you, almost as if he was refusing to let go. You looked up at him, big brown puppy dog eyes staring down at you with a goofy grin that hadn’t left his face, the sight of his handsome, broad frame easing your racing heart enough to help you remember that when you walked down that aisle in a few short minutes, he was the only thing that mattered. 

“I’m perfect.” You smiled, pressing up on your toes just enough to peck his lips quickly before someone in the wedding party needed to barrate you both again about saving your kissing until after you were finally married. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this many people staring all at me at once. Knowing my luck, I’m gonna trip and fall over this dress before I can even make it to you. Or better yet, with my dumbass decision to have David and Charlie walk me down the aisle, I’ll be lucky if they don’t push me to the ground first.” 

“Well, even if you did fall, you would still be the most beautiful woman on the face of this Earth. My clumsy, grass-stained wife.” Javi snickered, giving you a little nudge as you rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove back. 

“Pendejo. You have both of our vows books, right? You promise you haven’t peeked?” 

“Yup, both right here in my pocket.” Javi smiled, patting his tux by his chest. “Promise I haven’t read it. Although for my sake I probably should have, because if I can’t even make it through seeing you in your dress, then these vows are gonna make me a fuckin’ goner.” 

“Bold of you to assume I had nice things to say about you in there.” You teased, raising your eyebrow as you smirked at him, making Javi shake his head as he laughed. 

“Alright everyone, it’s 3:00, it’s time to get this show on the road! Make sure you’re in order like we practiced, that you take your time walking down to the music, girls, please do not throw petals at each other, and make sure you all- Javi, where are you? You’re supposed to be at the front of this line, sir.” Connie sassed, proving to you that she really was the perfect person for the task of making sure that things ran smoothly today, bossing the group around like the captain of a well organized ship. 

“Sorry, I’m coming,” Javi replied sheepishly. “I love you, Osita.” Sliding the hand that was entangled with yours around your waist, Javi pulled you in for a kiss, much more obviously than he probably should have, considering the shit the two of you were about to get being literal minutes away from getting married. 

“Javier! Get you A-S-S up here! Kiss her all you want once you say I do!” Connie shouted, rolling her eyes at the two of you, Javi pulling away in defense with his hands raised, trying to prove his innocence. 

“Oh, I know what that one spells, Mrs. Murphy! That one spells-” 

“Javi? Please?” Connie asked again, quickly trying her best to cut off your niece, Olivia, before she could finish the rest of her thought in front of everyone else, making the group giggle at her matter of factness. 

“Okay, okay, I’m here!” Javi pleaded, making his way to the front of the procession, taking his place next to his dad as Connie did one more check through of everyone’s spot in line before giving the music an all clear to start playing. 

As you stood at the end of the line, you peeked up to see Javi turned around staring back at you with that same stupid smile on his face, completely enamored and awestruck by you, already convincing you that you were going to turn into a puddle before you could even make it down the aisle. 

But as you went to re-adjust your bouquet in your grasp, you quickly realized there were not one, but two things missing from your procession line, now about to start walking down the aisle. 

Your brothers. 

Despite having seen them only seconds ago, as you quickly whipped your head around, they were now nowhere to be found. 

“Charlie? David? Where the fuck did you go?” You whisper shouted, frantically looking around for any sight of them.

Suddenly, you heard a rustling from one of the bushes around the corner from where you had been lined up and waiting, followed by the all too familiar voices of your brothers up to no good. 

“Just finish it you dingus, I already drank the first half!” 

“Why the fuck did we leave this out here? It’s fucking warm. You got the better half, that’s not fair!” 

“It was warm when I drank it too, dumbwad. Just finish it, we gotta fucking go, hurry up!” 

As you peered behind the bush, you saw your brothers wiping their mouth with the back of their hands as the tossed a can of Miller Lite to the ground, freezing in fear as they saw your menacing and disappointed glare staring back at them. 

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?!” 

“It was David’s idea!” Charlie responded, pointing at his brother. 

“Charlie didn’t say no!” David responded back, now pointing at him. “You didn’t expect us to get through this sober, did you? You’re the one who asked us to marry you, so I don’t know what to tell ya, Cubby. Plus, we wanted to pour one out for Patrick since he’s the luckiest bastard out of all of us and doesn’t have to worry about fucking up marrying his little sister.” 

“God, you two are idiots. Well that thing you agreed to do is happening as we speak so can we go do that, please?” You sighed, trying your best not to laugh at your brother’s antics, knowing that you really should have expected nothing less from the pair after you and Javi had asked them to officiate your wedding, considering neither of you had wanted anything religious, and wanted someone who knew you to be the ones to do it. 

“Okay, okay!” They replied, one rushing to each side of you and hooking their arm around yours as you made your way back to your spot at the end of the processional line that had now begun to move forward. 

“Where were you 3 dumbbells? The ceremony is starting!” Your dad gruffed, trying his best to restrain from slapping each of you upside the head. 

“Cubby wanted a beer.” David replied, shrugging his shoulders, keeping his head facing forward, trying his best not to laugh. 

“Honey, seriously?!” Your mom scolded, looking at you with disgust. 

“I did not! I was trying to find these two idiots!” You groaned, eying your brothers as they shook you back and forth between them in their grasp. “I hate you both, I hope you know that.” 

“We love you too, Cubby.” Charlie smirked, knowing that for as much as you said it, there wasn’t a bone in your body that could hate your brothers. For as dumb and annoying as they were, there would never be another moment you would take for granted with them, knowing all too well that life was much too short to do anything but cherish your time together, wishing you had more time to spend with the brother who couldn’t be here with you today. 

Before you could respond, your thought was interrupted by the voice of the DJ through the speakers set up outside, your heart steadily beginning to pound at the reality that everything you had been waiting for was all about to become real. 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen if you could please find your seats, we’re about to get started with our ceremony! Thank you so much, folks!” As his voice echoed through the speakers, a hush began to fall over the crowd of your friends and family that had gathered here, now anxiously alongside you for the ceremony to begin. 

A few seconds passed before you could hear the music beginning to play, the familiar melody of “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac ringing through the speakers- an easily unanimous pick for a song to walk down the aisle to for you and Javi, remembering the first night you had spent together in your apartment, making midnight mac n’ cheese and already falling head over heels in love with each other. 

As the beat began to pick up, your heart started to race, peaking over the backs of everyone’s heads to watch all 5 of your flower girls begin to skip down the aisle, throwing petals every which way around them as they moved.

You couldn’t help but laugh as all their little personalities shone through as they made their way to the altar- Olivia Murphy, being the oldest, most definitely was taking her role the most seriously, holding her baby sister in one hand and carefully sprinkling flowers evenly in front of her. Your niece, Olivia, was second in line to live up to her role, although, being the little ham she was, threw in the occasional twirl in the middle of the aisle to get people to look at her, along with her little waves to the crowd. The rest of the girls, Brianna, Abby and Madison, well, you were just happy that they made it down the aisle, thankful that their older sisters were at least on the lookout enough to keep them from running through the rows of your guests or dumping the entire bucket of flowers on themselves (you had learned your lesson from your rehearsal dinner that Brianna needed about half as less flowers as the others).

Your face lit up watching the girls, your heart filling with joy with the “awhs” and laughter from the crowd at their theatrics as they met at the altar with an impressively semi-rehearsed curtsy, followed by promptly running out of the spotlight and over to Connie who was waiting for them. 

Now that the flower girls had finished making their way down, the processional line began to shift forward once again, this time, leaving Javi and his dad to walk down together, Javi insisting that even though his mom would have been the one to walk him down if she was here, that wanted Chucho to be there in her place instead. 

“Ready, Mijo?” Chucho grinned, giving Javi a little nudge. “Am I going to have to keep you from sprinting down the aisle, or do you think you can manage walking?” 

As the pair began walking down to the melodic beat of the song, Javi couldn’t help but laugh at his dad’s comment, because as much as he wanted to tease him right back, he knew damn well he was so excited that he would have run to the altar if it meant he got to marry you even a minute quicker. 

“Javier?” Chucho asked, looking up at his son with tears in his eyes as the pair moved down the parted pathway between the crowd of guests. 

“Yeah, Pops?” 

“Estoy orgulloso de ti, mijo. Tu mama y yo. (I am so proud of you, son. Me and your mother.) We are so happy that you have found your media naranja (other half). Nosotros te amamos. (We love you so much.)” 

As Javi and Chucho reached the end of the aisle, Javi wrapped his arms around his dad, pulling him close as Chucho patted him on the back, pulling away to look at his son, tears now in both of their eyes, thinking about how far they had come to end up where they were in this very moment, thanking whatever greater power that had finally brought them and Lucia the peace they all desperately deserved. 

Javier Pena knew he was worthy of the love and happiness that his parents had longed for. He had finally proved to himself and his parents he really was the good man that he had hoped to be. 

“I love you, Pops. Thank you for everything.” Javi whispered to his dad, trying to fight back any more tears from falling down his cheeks. 

“Te amo mucho, Javier. (I love you so much, Javier). Thank you for finally realizing that who you are is enough. Now, stop crying over your old man and save some tears for your wife.” Chucho laughed quietly, giving his son another pat on the back with a soft smile wrinkling his cheeks. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at the tearful mess he already was, giving his father one last hug before Chucho took his seat next to Connie and the flower girls at the front of the crowd. 

Steve was the next to make his way to the altar, Javi laughing at his friend’s goofy strut to greet him at the end of the aisle. Steve held out his hand to shake Javi’s before quickly pulling Javi in for another hug with pats to the back much harder than his fathers. 

“Listen, man. I ain’t good at this sentimental shit, but uh- I’m really fuckin’ happy for you, Javi. I know I give you shit, but you’re one of the good ones. She’s a lucky girl. And I hope you know you’re sure as hell one lucky son of a bitch. Love you, man.” 

“Love you too, Murph. Believe me, I know.” Javi grinned, giving Steve a slap on his shoulder laughing to himself as his friend sat down next to his wife and the girls, never imagining himself standing at the altar, happily waiting to get married while his former partner cheered him on, surrounded by his gaggle of giggly daughters. 

Feeling worlds away from Javi, your heart began to beat faster and faster, realizing that you were now only one pair away from making your trek down the aisle as your mom and dad walked down next, arm in arm. 

In classic mom fashion, your mother squeezed Javi so hard as she greeted him, that you were convinced that she was going to pop an eyeball out one of his sockets, thankful that your dad was there to reel her in enough to keep from suffocating him in her hug. 

“Javi. We love you so much. Thank you for making our daughter so happy. We’re so grateful she found you.” 

“Thank you. I love you both, too. Believe me, I’m just as grateful that she found me. Thanks for making me feel like a part of your family.” Javi replied to your mom, catching his breath through his smile after the death grip your mom had wrapped him in before looking over at your dad, extending his hand to meet his already outstretched one. 

“Jav, you’re a good man. I’m a guy of few words, but we couldn’t be happier for you both. Take care of her, okay?” 

“I will. I promise.” 

With a silent handshake and a nod, Javi and your dad had said all they’d needed to know that they couldn’t be more thankful for the love and support the other had brought you in the times that you had needed it most. 

As your parents made their way to their seats, standing at the opposite end of the aisle with your brothers at your side, the realization really hit you- You were the last one that needed to meet Javi. 

“You ready, Cubby?” Charlie asked, giving you a grin as he smiled down at you, interlocking your arm with his as David did the same on the other side. 

“Yeah, I’m ready. Hey, uh- I just, I just wanted to say, I-I love you guys.” 

“Gross.” David teased, scrunching his face in disgust, pretending to barf over his shoulder as you and Charlie laughed, shaking your head at your brother. “We love you too, dude.” 

With one final giggle and deep breath, you took your first step into view where everyone could see you, watching the guests rise to their feet in anticipation of your arrival, awestruck stares and smiles filling the crowd as you began to walk. 

Even though you had seen each other minutes ago, as you started to make your way down the aisle, smiling at Javi, the two of you couldn’t help but break into tears once again, laughing through your sobs that Javi broke before you did, trying to wipe his wet cheeks with the back of his hand while he watched you walk towards him. 

And even though every pair of eyes were on you, the only eyes you needed to see were Javi’s- The sweet, soft brown eyes that you had fallen so deeply in love with from the moment you had locked eyes with them all that time ago. They were the eyes of the first person who had ever truly seen you for who you were, inside and out, and you couldn’t be more thankful that when you looked at him, you saw your forever. When you looked at Javier Pena, you knew you were home. 

It almost felt as if time was standing still, that even in a crowd full of people, no one else existed besides the two of you. No one else mattered, and nothing else mattered- the only thing that mattered for you was Javi waiting for you at the end of the aisle, and you? You were going to finally be his wife. 

“You two are so in love, it’s fucking sick.” David whispered in your ear, helping to ease your tears as you burst into more laughter, rolling your eyes at your brother. 

“Oh shut up, asshole.” 

As you, David and Charlie finally made your way to Javi, waiting for you in a mess of happy smiles and loving tears, you had to use everything in you to keep from jumping onto him like a koala and kiss him all over his stupidly handsome face, resorting to reaching out to grab his hand instead, interlocking it with yours and giving it the tightest squeeze you could. 

“Hey, Mr. Peña. Long time, no see.” You whispered into Javi’s ear, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before took his other hand in yours, the two of you facing each other in front of your friends and family as David and Charlie took their place behind you, pulling out their notes that they had prepared, clearing their throats as they began to address the crowd. 

“Alright everyone, I uh- I guess we’re gettin’ this show on the road.” Speaking out into the crowd, Charlie began to flip to the right page of his script that you were relieved to see he had written out, your guests beginning to silence and bringing their attention to you and Javi. 

“Hi everyone, for those of you who don’t know us, we are the bride’s brothers, and we have the honor of our sister and our new brother-in-law being stupid enough to let us be in charge of marrying them today. Not to worry, 20 dollars and one course on the internet later, David and I are both legally ordained, so not to fear you two, this will all be legit, and hopefully not too embarrassing.” Charlie laughed, also eliciting giggles and eye rolls from you and Javi, as well as the crowd. 

“Well, we are gathered here today, because these two idiots have fallen so head over heels for each other, it's almost sickening. We’ve had the privilege of knowing our sister for the entirety of our lives. When we found out as kids that our mom was having another baby, and that it was going to be a girl, my brothers and I were disappointed, to say the least. We didn’t want a sister to ruin the bond that we had, and honestly, for a long time while my mom was pregnant, we went through a long baby boycott, and were convinced if we protested long enough, and hard enough, she would eventually turn into a boy, and everything would be fine.” David grimaced, shrugging his shoulders at you as you nodded in agreement, having heard this story from your brothers and parents plenty of times before. 

“And while at first, we weren’t really sure what to do with a sister, considering we didn’t even realize it was an option to pee sitting down until she came around,” Charlie snickered, making the crowd laugh again, aside from your mom, who was rolling her eyes so hard, they probably had made it to the back of her head, “Our sister ended up being one of the best things that could have ever happened to us.” 

Breaking your eye contact with Javi, you paused to look over at your brother, a genuine smile on his face, raising his eyebrows and shrugging as if to say I’m just as surprised that I’m saying this out loud as you. 

“Growing up with our sister has taught us a lot of things- Don’t challenge her to anything you don’t wanna lose at, because she’ll find a way to beat you, and thoroughly kick your ass while she does it, she’s got more brain cells that myself, Charlie, and our late brother Patrick did put together, she’s tougher than most guys I know, and she’s one of the biggest hearted people I’ve ever met.” Looking back at Javi, you could see his face beaming with joy, giving your hand a squeeze, agreeing with everything your brothers had to say, and how all of those traits had made him fall so madly in love with you. 

“So, like brothers do, we never assumed that there would never be anyone good enough, let alone even cool enough for our badass sister. And also like brothers do, we let her go through her fair share of duds and gave her shit, but when this guy came around,” Charlie smiled, pointing at Javi, “we knew that he was something special.” 

“Javi,” David joined in pointing, giving him a playful smirk, “Don’t think you were getting out of this so easy. When we first heard that our sister had made her way down to the middle of nowhere Texas and had started seeing you, our first reaction was instant disapproval, because if you lived in south Texas, you probably knew jackshit about hockey, and that was a no go for us.” 

“But,” Charlie interjected, “After talking to our sister more on the phone, not only was she starting to turn into the happy, energetic self we hadn’t seen in so long, we also learned after talking to her that you not only had been willing to watch hockey with her, but had began to openly express your disdain for the Detroit Red Wings, which made us change our opinions on you very quickly.” 

You and Javi looked at your brothers, rolling your eyes in laughter as they shrugged at you, the roar of cackles from the crowd making you grin, feeling the love from your brothers, friends and family swell in your chest, holding Javi’s hands even tighter, gazing up at him with an awestruck smile. 

“No in all seriousness, Jav. We couldn’t be happier that you not only have become a part of our sister’s life, but our family’s life, too. For those of you who don’t know, we um- we, uh-,” David gulped, taking a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes, “our other brother, Patrick, um, passed away last year, and it uh, it was really hard on all of us, especially our sister. Javi, man, I don’t think you’ll ever understand how thankful we are that you love our sister so unconditionally. Better yet, that you love our family of idiots so unconditionally, because truth be told, we are not an easy bunch to love. While obviously, you can’t ever replace Patrick, I just, I hope you know that we’re so glad to have you as a brother, and that Patrick really would have loved you, man. He would be so happy that you’re the one our sister gets to spend the rest of her life with.” 

For what felt like the 117th time today, you found yourself in absolute tears, feeling the wetness streaming down your cheeks as you looked down at the #2 patch sewn on the bottom corner of your veil in a beautiful mixture of sadness and joy before looking up to see not a dry eye in front of you, both your brothers and Javi misty eyed and sniffling. Breaking his grasp from yours, Javi stepped towards your brothers, wrapping his arms around both of them to pull them into a long, tight hug, Charlie and David reciprocating as their arms patted his back. 

“Thank you guys.” Javi whispered, choking back his tears as he pulled away to look at your brothers, all of you wiping your wet faces with your hands to try and compose yourselves to carry on with the ceremony. 

“Damn, okay, well, sorry about that, folks, was not expecting that.” Charlie and David laughed, trying to shake off their unusually sappy sentiment, looking out at the crowd to see not a dry eye in the house. “Well um, well that’s enough of us yapping at you guys, why don’t we turn it over to the people you’re actually here for, and then you can cry even more because these two idiots decided to write their own vows, so good luck.” 

Staring up at Javi, you could feel your heart begin to race wildly, your hands nearly trembling as you reached out towards Javi to take the little notebook where you had written down your vows, feeling a little more at ease as you saw that Javi’s hands were just as shaky as yours, the two of you overflowing with anxious anticipation. 

It had been no question to either of you that you had wanted to write your own vows to one another. While it seemed to be that everyone else you knew had seemed to avoid writing their own vows because they weren’t sure what to say, or that it was too hard to think of things, you and Javi seemed to find yourselves having the opposite problem, feeling like there was too much to fit in a few short minutes, and that your vows were going to end up being the length of a college lecture. 

There had been a part of you that had worried you would be nervous to read what you had to say to Javi in front of all your friends and family, but as you stood there, smiling up at his beautiful, handsome face, you couldn’t be more excited to share all of the things you had written to tell your husband just how much you loved him.  

But as the two of you stood face to face, your vows in each of your hands, your stomach dropped in shock, realizing that neither of you was making the first move to start talking. Because for all the planning and preparing that you had done for everything else, the both of you had completely forgotten to pick who was going to read their vows first. 

“We never picked who was gonna go first.” You whispered to Javi, your voice filling with nerves every second you stood in front of your guests, neither one of you saying anything. 

“Oh fuck, you’re right. What do you wanna do? Do you wanna go? Do you want me to go?” Javi asked, his face mirroring yours in surprise, now frantically looking back and forth between you, his vows, and all of your guests. 

You weren’t sure if it was the teacher in you, or the fact that you were so flustered that you couldn’t think of anything else, but before you knew it, you were tucking your vows under your arm, holding one hand out in front of you flat and the other in a fist, signifying to Javi that your best solution to your current predicament was playing rock, paper, scissors. 

“Best 2 out of 3?” You shrugged, grimacing at Javi as you tried not to burst into laughter, Javi shaking his head and snickering, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Do you wanna go after ‘rock’ or say ‘shoot’, then go?” Javi asked, loud enough for your guests to catch on to what was happening, giggles and laughter coming from the crowd. 

“What kind of psychopath doesn’t say ‘shoot’ first? Javier Peña, are you telling me that we need to call off this wedding right now because you don’t say ‘shoot’ before playing rock, paper, scissors? Because I will.” 

Everyone around you was now in full blown hysterics, including Javi, giving you the sassiest look he could muster through his laughter, holding his hands out to mirror yours. 

“So ‘for better or for worse’ doesn’t apply to rock, paper, scissors, apparently?” He teased, smirking at you with a subtle wink as he bit down on his lip. 

“Not if you’re gonna play like that it won’t.”  

“Pendejo.” 

“You love me.” 

“I really fucking do.” 

Giggling as you gestured at your outstretched fist, you began to countdown from your “rock, paper, scissors, adding an extra emphasis on ‘shoot’ as you held out rock and Javi held out scissors. With another laugh, the two of you started again, this time, you with paper and Javi with rock, smirking as you crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, the rest of your guests laughing right along with you. 

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner, Javier Peña. You’re stuck going second.” 

“Go for it, you dork.” 

As the laughter from the crowd settled, you opened your vows book, taking a deep breath as you stared up at Javi, who, despite your silliness, still had tears beginning to well in his puppy dog brown eyes before you could even say your first word. You took one last gulp of confidence, wondering how in the world you were supposed to make it through even a sentence through your speech without falling apart. 

“I never used to believe in fate. People would always tell me that ‘some things are just meant to be!’ or ‘it was just fate it happened like that!’ and no matter how hard I tried to believe, fate just never made sense to me. Well, that was until about a year ago, when fate decided to bump right into me when I least expected it.” You could feel your voice already beginning to shake, huffing in a quick sniffle before continuing on. 

“As fate may have it, I quite literally bumped into you when you were forced to come give a presentation to a group of rowdy 8 and 9 year olds. Thank god fate also was on my side that day- that I actually looked halfway presentable and wasn’t covered in spilled chocolate milk, glue, or the snot of whatever kid had sneezed a little too close to me that morning.” That one had the better part of the crowd letting out a laugh alongside Javi, easing your stress and tension about your speech while you carried on, reading the notes jotted in your booklet. 

“When I first came to Laredo, I wasn’t really quite sure what I was looking for. After my brother died and decided I needed to be as far away from Chicago as possible, there wasn’t ever really a doubt in my mind that here was the only place I really wanted to be. I spent the better half of my middle school and high school vacations here, visiting my best friend who had moved away. To me, Laredo was always a place that brought me such peace and comfort. I’m not really sure why, but there was always something about being here for those few weeks every year that made it feel like home, even when home was halfway across the country. But what I didn’t realize, was that in my attempt to find a new home for myself, I began to learn that home wasn’t a physical location, or a place you could travel to. After meeting you, Javier Peña, I found out that home was wherever I was with you.” 

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up from your vows to see sweet Javi, covering his mouth, as if he was trying to trap his tears to keep from completely breaking down at your words, his reaction only making you cry harder, trying your best to re-compose yourself before speaking again. 

“I spent so long wondering if I would ever find someone who would ever make me feel the way that you do- to love me for all of my flaws, to make me feel important, and even laugh at all of my stupid jokes that probably don’t deserve to be laughed at, but you love me enough to do it anyways. Now that’s true love.” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at Javi, making the two of you snicker between your tears. “You make me feel like the only person in the world whenever I’m with you. The only person who knows me better than I know myself. You are truly one of the most thoughtful and caring people that I have ever met. And while I could list off a million adjectives to describe all of the reasons I fell in love with you- smart, brave, determined, handsome- just to name a few, out of all of those reasons, the one that made me fall for you the most was your big heart. And while I know you’ll never believe me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to get you to see the same amazing man I fall more and more in love with every single day.”

At this point, there was not a dry eye in the crowd, watching how emotional you and Javi were as you tried to choke your way through the rest of your vows. 

“I will never know what I did to deserve you in my life, but promise that I will spend the rest of it letting you know how forever thankful I will always be that out of all the people in the world you could have chosen to bump into, that it was me. I am so excited that the rest of my life, all of the moments, big, small, and everything in between, will all be moments spent with you. That every moment will be spent with my best friend. I never would have thought that a little bit of fate would have become my forever, but I’ll always be so grateful that it is. I love you so much, Javier Peña. Thanks for being the reason I finally believe in fate.” 

Wiping away the wetness streaming down your cheeks, you could barely even look at Javi, who was an absolute blubbering mess, laughing through your tears almost to keep you from completely melting into a puddle. 

Reaching out to grab him, you took Javi’s hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly as you took your other hand up to wipe the tears streaming down his cheeks, the both of you smiling as you looked into each other's eyes.

“And that’s why I wanted to go first. Good luck.” You chuckled, making Javi shake his head as he laughed along with you, taking another deep breath before flipping open his own vows, wondering how in the world he was ever going to make it through speaking, considering how easily he had fallen apart just listening to you. 

“Jesus Christ, well I don’t know how I’m really supposed to follow that.” Javi sighed, the crowd giggling at his remark as he opened up to his first page, staring at his words for a moment before looking back up at you, his deep, chocolate, puppy dog eyes melting you just as quickly as the first time that you locked eyes with him. 

“I’ve uh- I’ve never really been great speeches. When I sat down to write this, I wasn’t really sure where to start. I had no idea how I was supposed to fit all of the things that I wanted to say into all of this.” Javi huffed with a little shrug, gesturing to his notebook. 

“So I um- I figured if there’s anywhere I should start, it should probably be at the beginning. My mom was an elementary school teacher, so growing up, I spent a lot of time at Alma Pierce Elementary School. I swear, I knew that place like the back of my hand. But um, after my mom got sick and passed away, I really never thought I’d ever have a reason to back. Until one day last year, I was told to pack up my stuff to go give a presentation at a local elementary school, which turned out to be none other than Alma Pierce. My mom always used to say “La vida es graciosa, no lo crees?” (Life is funny, isn’t it?), and I never quite understood why. But as I walked back into the place where I had spent so much of my life just out of chance, I swear I could hear her laughing at me, saying “Te lo dije.” (I told you so).” 

You could hear everyone who had had the privilege of knowing Lucia letting out a soft laugh, thinking of all of the times they must have heard her say that all too familiar phrase throughout their time knowing her. 

“I had gotten to a point in my life that I had kind of just accepted that maybe this kind of life wasn’t in the cards for me. I wasn’t gonna get married or have a family, and as much as it hurt, I had learned to be okay with it. The last thing I would have thought would have happened to me after leaving the presentation I had to give that day was that I was already head over heels in love with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life, but la vida es graciosa, no le crees?” 

Giving you a little smirk, Javi could help but let a smile slowly spread between his cheeks as he looked at you, gazing up at him in complete and utter adoration, your goofy grin mirroring his. 

“Never in a million years would I have thought that I would have been standing here today, getting married to you. If you would have told me that I got to marry the most beautiful, amazing, kind, and stubbornly independent woman on the face of this earth, I would have laughed in your face. I honestly still feel like I need to pinch myself to prove that this is even real. But I guess that even if this is all a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up. Being loved by you has changed me in a way that I will never be able to thank you enough for. Being loved by you has made me a better man than I ever believed that I could be. A better man than I ever thought I deserved to be. A man who has learned to love and believe in love in ways I didn’t think I was capable of. I will never be able to thank you enough for letting me into your life and loving me for who I am, and for wanting to spend the rest of it with me.” 

Now, it was your turn to morph into an inconsolable mess, reaching out to grab Javi’s hand again, silently reassuring him that you were equally as grateful for the fact that Javi had let you into his life, too. 

“And no matter how tough, or challenging, or funny life gets, I know it can never really be that bad, because I’ll always have you by my side through it all. I think my mamá would be so proud to know I finally understand what she was trying to say all those years about life being so funny. Because it seems like life has a funny way of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. Te amo, Osita. Gracias por ser mi todo. (I love you, Osita. Thank you for being my everything).” 

Without even thinking, you threw your arms around Javi’s shoulders wrapping him in a long, tight hug, sobbing into his jacket in a fit of happy tears, Javi hugging you right back, squeezing around your waist, gently cradling the back of your head in the warmth of your embrace. 

“Well shit… Alright, well I’m not sure if you guys are allowed to do that, but after those vows, I think we can let it slide.” David joked, trying to quickly wipe his eyes, nudging Charlie to do the same to try and pull themselves together to make sure they could finish out the rest of the ceremony. 

“Fuck, sorry.” Javi whispered, reluctantly pulling away from you, everyone in the crowd following your brothers’ suite, smiling as they brushed away the wetness welling in their own eyes from listening to your vows. 

“Well, I’d ask if anyone needs to object before we continue, but I think it’s pretty darn clear that these two idiots love each other more than life itself, so I’m just gonna skip that part.” Charlie joked, making you and Javi smirk in agreement. “Alright Miss Olivia, it’s your time to shine, do you have the rings?” He asked, your niece’s face lighting up in excitement as she nodded her head frantically, shooting up out of her seat to dash towards the two of you, carefully holding the ring box like a newborn baby bird in her hands. 

Daintily, she passed the box off to her dad before scampering over to both you and Javi, wrapping her arms around your waists to pull you close in a hug, smiling up at each of you with her toothy, goofy grin. 

“I love you Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi.” Olivia beamed, giggling in pure bliss and joy before skipping back to her seat among the guests, the both of your hearts bursting at the seams with the chores of “awhhhhs” coming from the crowd for your adorable niece. 

“Someone’s trying to get an extra slice of cake tonight huh, Miss Olivia?” David teased, your guests erupting with laughter at her not so innocent shrug to her Uncle’s question, knowing damn well she was just as much of a ham as you. “I trusted the six year old to carry these, can I trust you two not to drop them, or do you need to cry some more first?” 

“Oh shut up, David.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at your brother as you and Javi each took the rings to give one another, carefully holding the shiny gold bands in your hands, counting down the moments until you finally got to say “I do”. 

“Alright, ladies first, so I guess that means you, Cubby. You ready?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything, you dingus, get this show on the road.” 

“Alright, here goes nothin’. This is the part I actually had to practice, so God forbid I mess this one up huh? Do you,” David giggled, saying your real name instead of the nicknames you had lovingly bestowed upon you for as long as you could remember, “Take Javi to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” 

Carefully slipping the gold band onto Javi’s finger, you could feel your heart bursting in anticipation, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement, slowly pulling your hand away to let your brothers finish the second half of the exchange. 

“And do you, Javier Peña, take our sister,” Charlie and David snickered again, having to say your full name for a second time, “to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” 

Gently grabbing your palm and gliding the glistening ring onto your finger, Javi rubbed his thumb over the pair of bands nestled together, forever making a home on your hand, his eyes welling at the sight of the sign that you would always be his. 

Intertwining your fingers together and hands clasped in front of you, you and Javi were radiating with joy, anxiously staring back and forth between each other and your brothers for them to finally say those magic words you had been waiting to hear since the moment you had met all that time ago. 

“Well ladies and gentleman… by the power vested in us, the internet and the state of Texas, it’s our honor to introduce to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” Charlie grinned at you, trying not to burst into laughter at the near panicked look on your faces, not having heard the next set of words you were more than dying to hear. 

“Well go on, you lovebirds, kiss already!” David snickered, shrugging at the pair of you with a grin on his face. 

Before he could barely finish his sentence, Javi’s hands were cupping your face, palms cradling your jaw as he brought his mouth to yours, fireworks exploding in your stomach at the electric intensity of his kiss, so soft and tender, yet so desperate and needy, like it was the first time his lips had ever met yours, and that he never, ever wanted to let them go. 

Your hands shot up to grab his face too, a smile creeping across your mouth with your lips still pressed to his as Javi dipped you down, sliding his hand down the small of your back to hold you before pulling you back up, his lips still locked on yours like glue. 

In that moment, it seemed like time stood still, that nothing else in the world existed besides the two of you- nothing else mattered besides the fact that you were here, kissing the man that you loved more than anything in the world. 

The man that you finally got to call your husband. 

Over the cheers, whistling, and hollering from your friends and family, the both of you were finally snapped back to reality as David gave you a little nudge and a look that screamed “gross, save it for the honeymoon.” 

Reluctantly breaking from your kiss, you grabbed Javi’s hand in yours, holding your fists in the air and cheering in excitement right alongside your guests before heading back up the aisle, your cheeks hurting from how hard they were smiling. So lost in your excitement, you turned your head as you felt Javi stop, tugging you back to the middle of the aisle, smirking as he pulled you close to his chest, whispering in your ear. 

“Not so fast, Mrs. Peña. C’mere.” Grabbing your face and wrapping his arm around your waist, Javi was kissing you again, swinging you down in another dip that had you erupting in giggles and your guests cheering even louder, Javi’s smooth moves soliciting a loud “OW OW” most definitely from Steve. 

“God, I love you.” You smirked as Javi pulled you back up to stand before the two of you were nearly skipping down the rest of the aisle in bliss, racing to the back of the crowd where you had entered the ceremony, turning the corner behind the house where no one could see you, not even bothering to look over your shoulder to see who’d followed you before your lips were crashing into each others again. 

This one was nowhere near as tame as the kisses you had just shared moments ago- this kiss was a tangled mess of tongues and teeth, Javi’s hands creeping dangerously close to the curve of your ass as you tugged at the lapels of his suit jacket, your mouths moving in a messy dance as you whispered muffled and muted words between your kisses. 

“Fuck, my beautiful wife. God, I’m so fucking lucky. I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much too, Javi, I’m so-” 

“Jesus Christ, it’s been 30 seconds and y’all can’t keep your hands to yourselves? C’mon, now. Y’all gotta whole week and a half to do this without having to subject the rest of us to it, Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” Steve laughed, making the both of you gasp as he slapped Javi on the back, immediately making your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment and Javi groan in annoyance at his best man’s timely (or untimely) disruption. 

“Steve, c’mon like you didn’t have your hands all over me after we got married.” Connie sighed, now smacking the back of her own husband’s head, making him wince in pain. “Congratulations, you two. We’re so happy for you.” 

“Thanks, Connie.” You and Javi smiled, Javi still keeping his hand wrapped around your waist as the rest of your wedding party started making their way back up the aisle to greet you, too.

“Also having gotten married before, you’re gonna thank me later as I make you go find your brothers to sign your marriage license somewhere that has a little peace and quiet before you get none the rest of the night. Why don’t you guys head inside and I’ll cover for you for a little, okay?” 

“You’re the best, Connie, thanks.” Javi grinned, pulling you away towards the house, quietly sneaking in through the front door to wait for your brothers, Javi looking both ways around the seemingly empty house before pulling you close again. 

“Javi, Charlie and David are gonna be in here any minute, and they’re gonna give us just as much shit as Steve, if not more.” You giggled, gazing up into Javi’s eyes, still awestruck and giddy. 

“I know. Just one more kiss, mi esposa (my wife).” Javi smirked, tilting his head down to press his lips to yours, his thumb tracing soft circles on your cheek as the rest of his fingers cradled your jaw, tilting your eyes up towards him. “Fuck, you’re finally my wife. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.” 

“Good thing we have the rest of our lives to get used to it, huh?” 

People weren’t kidding when they said that your wedding would be a blur- From the moment the ceremony ended, it felt like everything was moving in fast and slow motion at the same time, being pulled in every direction to talk with family members, take pictures, and make sure that things were running smoothly. As much as you and Javi were both trying to soak in every moment of your special day together, it was safe to say the two of you were feeling a little overwhelmed by the time you had gotten to dinner, and couldn’t have been more thankful to have a moment to finally sit down. 

More importantly, you were so glad that you had gotten to the point where you had a drink, some delicious food in your stomach, and the best part of the night ahead of you- dancing. 

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon of the Peña ranch as dinner was coming to a close, the clanging of forks and knives against dinner plates slowly shifting to chatter and conversation that was filling the space of the white tent that had been propped up in the backyard for your reception. 

You weren’t really sure what to expect when you had decided on a backyard wedding, but with the absolutely stunning work your mom, Connie, sister in law, and Javi’s aunt’s had put together for you, they had made a white tent feel like something out of a fairytale. String lights and greenery were strung across above you, long tables decorated in candles and beautiful garlands of eucalypts, sprinkled white and pink roses from Lucia’s garden, along with cute, colorful vintage cups that the women had collected or thrifted for your guests to use. Everything about your setup felt magical, and with the sun sinking and fading into dusk, the glow and twinkles of the lights illuminating your space only made it feel that much more incredible. 

As the two of you sat at your head table, bellies full and hearts happy, feeling a little tipsy from the extra strong margaritas Javi’s cousin seemed to be making, you were a little worried as what looked like a more than just tipsy Steve approached you, slapping a stack of index cards in front of you. 

“Listen… I’m like the perfect level of drunk to give this best man speech. Any less drunk and I’ll be too fuckin’ nervous to do it, and any more drunk I’m not gonna be able to remember what I’m supposed to say. Y’all good to keep this movin’ so you can do your first dance and then we can get this party started?” 

“Jesus Christ, Murph…” Javi sighed, laughing at his friend, now sassily crossing his arms over his chest at Javi. “This speech better be good.” 

“It’s good, and Connie approved, so you know I won’t say any dumb shit. Well, not if we don’t start soon and I keep drinking more.” Steve paused, letting out a low burp, rubbing his stomach and grimacing at the two of you, snorting at him. 

“Take it away, Shakespeare.” You smiled, gesturing your arm out to the dance floor in front of the guests sitting at their tables, chatting away. You couldn’t help but laugh as Steve confidently made his way to the front of the crowd, Connie silently mouthing “I’m so sorry”  from across the room, pointing at her husband, now ready to take the stage. 

“Hey y’all,” Steve started, bellowing his voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, making them pause their chit chat and focus their attention on him. “I’m Steve Murphy. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Javi’s best man. Normally it’s customary for a guy like me to come up and say a few words about the bride and groom, so lucky for y’all, I’m your guy tonight. You’re welcome, Jav.” 

The crowd laughed as Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at Steve and shaking in his head in fear of what was to come, sliding your hand over to rest on his thigh, giving your now husband a little squeeze of reassurance to have some faith in his friend. 

“I have had the pleasure of knowing Javi for a long time now. It’s been, what, 17 years now, Jav?” Steve asked, turning back to look for confirmation. 

“It’s been too long.” Javi replied, shaking his head, his witty response only making your friends and family laugh more. 

“Whatever, you grumpy old bastard. Anyways, I first met Javi when I found out that I would be his partner down in Colombia working for the DEA. Not gonna lie, when I first met him, while I’ve never admitted this until now, I was pretty intimidated by the guy. He was cool, smart, respected, even though his jeans were way too fuckin’ tight.” Steve teased, winking at Javi, making you snicker from the few pictures you had seen from back in the day when Javi was in Colombia, knowing exactly what Steve meant. 

“I’ll spare you all the details of our time down there, but through all of our trials and tribulations, despite our differences and disagreements, the one thing I always admired about Javi is that he really cared about what he did. No matter what, he always cared about trying to do the right thing for the people he cared most about. Now, believe me, if you would have asked me all those years ago if I would have ever pictured Javi here today, gettin’ married, buildin’ a house and talkin’ about startin’ a family? Well shit, I prolly woulda told you that you were bat shit crazy. But, if there’s anyone in the world who deserves every ounce of all that domestic, lovely dovey bliss, it’s this man right here.” Steve smiled softly, pointing back to Javi who couldn’t help but let his heart fill with warmth at the sentiment from his friend, your hand rubbing up and down Javi’s leg, his grasping over yours to hold it tight. 

“Javi, I know you’ll never believe me when I tell you this, but I’m real proud of ya, man. And I hope you know how goddamn lucky you are that this beautiful woman has agreed to spend the rest of her life with your grumpy ass. Speaking of which…” Steve smirked, turing back to look at you with a goofy grin, making you raise an eyebrow at whatever stupid comment was bound to come out of his mouth. 

“Mrs. Peña. I never thought I’d live to see the day Javi was so in love. When he called me a few weeks after the two of you first met, and was all jazzed and excited to tell me about this beautiful girl he had started datin’ and how happy he was, I just about damn near fell down. He never said it on that phone call, but I knew that this sorry shit was absolutely head over heels in love with you.” 

That comment had you giggling at Javi’s blushing face, his cheeks turning pink at Steve’s story, even though he knew damn well it was the truth. 

“I couldn’t think of anyone who would be more perfect for Javi if I tried. When I first met you and saw how sickeningly cute y’all were together, God’s honest truth, my first question I asked Javi was when he was plannin’ on buyin’ a ring. Glad to see that sometimes he’ll take my advice. Sweetheart, I can’t thank you enough for being so good to my best friend right there. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have someone like you.” 

Grabbing your hand, Javi interlocked his fingers with your underneath the table, softly smiling at you and gently nodding his head in agreement. 

“I also need to thank you that he’s finally got someone else to worry about him instead of me. One less thing off my back. No offense, Jav. Alright, well, y’all have probably heard enough of me yappin’, and y’all are anything like me, you’re ready for more drinkin’ and dancin’. To Mr. and Mrs. Peña-” Steve paused, grabbing the nearest drink he could find and raising it up in the air, prompting the rest of your guests to do the same. “Wishin’ you two lovebirds a lifetime of happiness. I love you guys. Cheers!” 

Over the applause and cheerful shouting, Steve rushed his way back over to the two of you, slotting himself in between your seats so his head poked out between yours, wrapping his arms around both your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug. 

“Nice work, Murph.” Javi smiled, patting Steve on the back, laughing to himself at how genuinely thoughtful Steve’s speech had turned out to be. 

“Thanks, Steve. Your speech was really great. How much did Connie have to edit out?” You snickered, looking back between him and Javi. 

“... Let’s just say I left out the part about y’all horny bastards needin’ to be better about lockin’ your doors when other people are around.” Steve chuckled, shaking both of you in his grap, You and Javi’s eyes sheepishly darting to the ground in embarrassment. 

“Fuck off, Murph.” 

“Love you too, Jav.” 

With one last pat on the back for each of you, before you could say anything else, Steve was already halfway across the tent back to the bar to congratulate himself for getting through his speech without any major slip ups or major scoldings from Connie after he returned back to his table. 

“Thank God for Connie.” You grimaced, laughing at Javi whose face was buried in his palm, shaking his head at his friend, wondering why he would expect any less from him. “...He’s not wrong, though.” 

“I’m triple checking that I lock all the doors later so I don’t give him any more reasons to be right…” Javi sighed, giving you a little nudge while the hand that had been holding yours suddenly let go, resting on your thigh over your dress, giving it a long squeeze, making your heart race in anticipation, his eyes locking with yours, telling you everything you needed to know.  

Some way, some how, Javi was going to find a way to fuck you before the night was done. 

“Javi…” You whispered, heat creeping through your cheeks, trying your best to keep from blushing as you locked eyes with him, his devilish grin and lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes entrancing you in a way that had butterflies swirling in your core and ache rapidly beginning to grow between your legs. 

“Si, Mi esposa?” (Yes, my wife?), Javi smirked back, running his hand further up your thigh and closer to your core as his other hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing back and forth across your skin, toying just enough to tug at the corner of your lip. 

While you had gotten a little bit of alone time with Javi today, the way that the both of you had been absolutely insatiable for each other after seeing each other in your wedding attire, let alone the fact that you were now actually married? You and Javi were both dying to try and find a second to yourselves without interruption, especially from Steve. 

So caught up in awe of each other, you and Javi hadn’t even noticed your DJ, standing next to your table, quietly clearing his throat to try and get your attention. 

“Hey, uh- Mr. and Mrs. Peña?” He interjected, loud enough to finally snap you and Javi out of the horny stare down you had entered, “Are um- are you two ready for the first dance?” 

“Oh, um- yeah, y-yeah, sorry about that.” Javi grumbled, the two of you quickly trying to snap out of the thick heat of sexual tension that had been growing between you, both readjusting yourselves in your seats as you looked up sheepishly at the DJ,  “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“I asked if you two were ready to do your first dance? If you um, if you need some more time I can-” 

“No, we’re okay, thanks.” You grimaced, trying to keep from giggling and blushing as you looked over at Javi and then back at your DJ. “You ready to dance, Mr. Peña?” 

“Never been more ready, Mrs. Peña.” Javi replied, grabbing your hand as the two of you stood up, out of your seats walking to the edge of the dance floor while your DJ headed back to his booth. 

“Hello everyone! We’re going to get ready to start our first dance with the newlyweds, so if you could please direct your attention to the dance floor, we’re about to get started!” 

Before you could even take a step out onto the floor, the cheering and clinking of knives against glasses was erupting amongst the crowd, Javi happily taking the opportunity to grab you by the waist and pull you in for a long, deep kiss, making you giggle against his lips still pressed to yours as he dipped you down, before pulling you back against his chest. 

“Show off.” You snickered, raising an eyebrow at him as he finally pulled away from your kiss, staring down at you with a goofy grin. 

“Better get used to it, Mrs. Peña. I’ve got the whole rest of our lives to keep showing you off.” Javi smirked, shooting you a wink before tugging you out into the center of the dance floor, patiently waiting for your song to start as you draped one arm around his neck, Javi snaked his hand around your waist, and the pair of your other hands joined clasped at your side. 

It was then that the melodic violin entrance to “At Last” by Etta James began to play, Javi smiling down softly at your agreed upon choice for your first dance song after lots of debate and discussion the past few months. 

At last 

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

As the music began to play, you and Javi began to sway back and forth to the syrupy symphony of the song, your heart bursting and stomach filling with the same butterflies it had the first time you had met Javi all those months ago. 

“I’m glad we picked this one.” Javi smiled, the two of you circling your way around the dance floor, eyes locked on each other.  

“Me too. It always makes me think of making breakfast with you on the weekend and all the little moments I love with you.” You grinned back, letting go of Javi’s hand to drape both arms over his shoulder and around his neck. 

“It makes me think of spilling that entire bowl of pancake batter all over Bear and then having to chase him around the house to get him in the tub.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes as he laughed to himself, tightening his grip around your waist to pull you closer. 

I found a dream that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own 

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known 

“Me too. God, who would have thought that a year ago we’d be having our first dance at our wedding talking about spilling pancake batter all over our dog.” You giggled, leaning to rest your head against Javi’s chest. 

“I did.” 

Looking up at Javi, you could feel your cheeks warming, staring at his big brown eyes welling with tears, trying your best to now hold back the wetness pooling under your lashes. 

“Osita, I swear, from the moment I saw you smile at me, I knew that you were the only woman in the world I ever wanted. I knew you were the one I wanted my forever with. I’ll never get over the fact that I’m the luckiest man alive. I love you so fucking much.” Javi choked back, letting one of his hands slide up your face, gently cupping your cheek as he tilted his head in for a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away for another one on your forehead. 

You smiled, you smiled 

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in Heaven 

As the song began to slow, the sweet melody winding down to its close, Javi lifted up his arm to let you twirl beneath him before spinning you back into his chest and wrapping his arm around your waist to catch you as he dipped you down again, your mouths meeting in a long, tender kiss, electricity sparking between your lips and butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

For you are mine 

At last 

“I love you too, Javier Peña.” 

Over the applause of your guests, you could hear an obnoxiously loud “OW OW” from the crowd, coming from a now even more intoxicated Steve, making you and Javi laugh at his reaction, swiftly followed by Connie’s sharp jab to his ribs to get him to settle down. 

“Alright ladies and gents,” The DJ spoke over the rumble of voices at the dinner tables, “Let’s have one more big round of applause for our newlyweds!” 

As the crowd began to clap again, and Steve, threatened by another blow to his side, cheering at an appropriate volume, the DJ spoke again with the announcement you had been patiently waiting for since the ceremony finished. 

“Alright everyone, with our first dance done, it’s time for the best part of the night, the dance floor is officially open! Let’s party!” 

As the blaring intro to “Jump Around” began to blast to your speakers, your friends and family rushed to the dance floor, you let out a squeal of surprise as Javi snatched you up around your middle, lifting you up to spin you around in a fit of giggles. 

“Vamos a bilar, mi esposa.”  (Let’s dance, wife) 

The rest of the night was the best kind of celebration that you could have asked for- the joy of being surrounded by your friends and family, dancing the night away to your favorite songs, and drinking one too many margaritas with your husband was everything you could have asked for and more on your wedding night. 

It was no shock to you that your family had no problem making absolute fools of themselves out on the dance floor, happily (and drunkenly) flailing along to every single song, although your brothers’ and Steve’s enthusiastic sing-along to “Baby Got Back” was impressive, to say the least. 

And while you and Javi had expected your family to act a fool, what neither of you had expected was how excited Chucho was to bust out dance moves of his own, taking everyone by surprise as he joined all your co-workers and Javi’s co-workers (who had quickly become best friends on the dance floor), to shake his way through “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, leaving you in hysterics, and Javi in stunned embarrassment at his dad’s antics. 

As the evening began to creep later and later into the hours of the night, a very sleepy Olivia approached you and Javi on the dance floor, gently tugging at your dress and his pants for attention with puppy dog eyes plastered on her face that almost gave Javi’s a run for his money. 

“Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi, can I pick a song? Pleaseeeeeee?” Olivia begged, pouting her bottom lip at the two of you, absolutely melting your hearts in an instant. 

“Of course, mi amor.” Javi smiled, caving immediately as he crouched down to her level, her face lighting up in delight at her uncle’s response, coming close to whisper in his ear. 

If you couldn’t have already been more in love with your husband, watching him listen intently to what your niece had to say, nodding in agreement before scoping her up to rest on his hip, you were practically in a puddle now. 

“Me and Miss Olivia are gonna go make a song request.” 

“But Auntie Bear, you have to let me dance with Uncle Javi first, okay?” Olivia quickly added, very adamantly. 

“Of course, lil Miss. Have fun, you two.” You smirked as Javi and Olivia made their way over to the DJ, watching Olivia’s face light up instantly as the DJ agreed to her request, Javi carrying Olivia out to the middle of the dance floor and setting her down on the ground as the end of the song slowly began to fade into your niece’s song choice. 

With her love for the movie, you shouldn’t have been surprised at all that her pick was “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from the Lion King Soundtrack, but even though you weren’t shocked at her choice, there was nothing that going to be able to prepare you for the gut wrenching cuteness that was your now husband, dancing with your niece. 

It had already gotten to the point in the night that Javi’s suit jacket and tie were long gone, 3 buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and the once neat curls of his dark hair now messily sweeping his forehead from your night of dancing, and if the sight of just how goddamn handsome Javi looked, on top of the fact he was now officially your husband, paired with the sight of him slow dancing to the Lion King with Olivia? 

Your ovaries were just about shot to hell. 

As the song played and Javi and Oliva spun around the dance floor in a fit of smiles and giggles, you couldn’t help but wish with every bone in your body that it was your daughter that Javi was dancing with, nearly falling to your knees the thought of making him a dad, on top of being your husband. And if that wasn’t enough, the two of you were finally married, and that meant half of your bargain to start trying for kids was complete- and with the other half being your house finally finishing with construction which was almost close to being done as well, you were so close to start trying for a baby of your own, you could almost taste it. 

And that? That drove you crazy enough to feel like you were going to combust. 

So stuck in your daydream, you didn’t even notice Olivia running up to you, now tugging at your dress again, letting out a little sleepy yawn as she tried to get your attention. 

“Okay Auntie Bear, you can dance with Uncle Javi now. Thanks for letting me pick a song.” Olivia smiled as you sunk down to meet her, wrapping her in a hug. 

“Of course, Olivia. Thank you for being the best flower girl today. I love you, cutie patootie. Alright, I’m gonna go dance with Uncle Javi now, okay?” 

“I love you too, Auntie Bear. I think Uncle Javi misses you, he wouldn’t stop looking at you the whole time we were dancing. I think he wants to kiss you again, but that’s gross. Yuck.” Oliva grimaced, making you giggle as she stuck out her tongue before watching her scamper away back to her sisters and the Murphy girls to dance some more. 

As you turned back, bracing yourself to stand back up, you were greeted with Javi’s large palm held out in front of you, pulling you up to greet his handsome grin while you looked up at him. 

“I’ve been told I have permission to come dance with you now.” 

“It did take some persuading, I told her I’d save an extra piece of cake for her if she let me go dance with you.” Javi chuckled, pulling you back out onto the dance floor, slowly swaying back and forth to the beat. 

“Watching you two out there is dangerous.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi as he cocked his head in confusion. 

“What do you mean, hermosa?” 

“I mean,” You paused, standing up a little bit taller, throwing one arm over Javi’s shoulder, running your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck to whisper in his ear, “Watching the two of you made me think about how much I wanna make you a dad. And now that we’re married and the house is almost done, we actually get to start trying soon.” 

It took everything in Javi not to let out an audible moan, letting out a gulp and scrunching his eyes shut for a moment to try and maintain his composure at what you had just said to him, his grip around your waist immediately tightening and eyes darkening as he opened them, staring down at you, absolutely awestruck. 

“Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, almost shaking his head in disbelief that after all of the time you had spent talking about wanting kids and nights you’ve had wishing there hadn’t been any birth control to keep you from having them were now an almost tangible reality, “Is that what you want, mi esposa? My wife wants me to give her a baby?” 

Javi’s voice rasped in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, your stomach flipping in arousal at the hot breath of his words against your skin, knowing what had started as a sweet and simple moment of Javi dancing with Olivia had quickly shifted into a desperate want, no, need, for him to give you what you were asking for. 

As the music slowly faded into the next song, bodies shuffling and dancing to the more upbeat tune that had followed Olivia’s choice, the both of your figures stood frozen on the dance floor in a silent exchange of racing hearts and yearning glances before Javi took your hand in his. 

“Follow me.” 

In an instant, Javi was tugging you across the dance floor, the two of you dodging and weaving your way through your guests with polite smiles and happy waves, doing everything you could to try and sneak away as discreetly as possible in hopes that everyone would be too preoccupied (or too drunk) to realize that you were gone. 

But at this point, you really didn’t care whether anyone noticed if you were gone or not. Truth be told, the only thing you cared about was finally getting to fuck your husband. 

Finally making it through the worst of the maze of people, you and Javi had made your way to the back porch, quietly peeking your heads through the door, checking to make sure the coast was clear before hastily slipping inside, gently shutting the door behind you before sneaking down the hall to Javi’s room, thanking whatever higher power had let the two of you get to his bedroom in peace. 

From the moment Javi had shut the door behind him, you were all over each other in an instant, hands roaming across each other’s bodies as you stumbled until the back of your legs hit the mattress, flopping down onto the bed, Javi’s body caging yours in his frame. Your lips crashed together in a hungry clash, tongues, teeth and moans melting together between your mouths as Javi hiked up the skirt of your dress, running his hands along your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh in his firm grasp before his fingers crept towards your aching core, ghosting over the white, lacy fabric covering your cunt, already soaking with arousal. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, hermosa. My wife’s pretty little pussy all wet for me, huh?” Javi rasped, the pads of his fingers pressing more pressure over your covered clit, making you whimper in delight. 

“It’s all yours, Javi. Yours forever, baby.” You moaned, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s fingers dipped under the waistband of your underwear, collecting the slick pooling around your folds before plunging his two fingers inside your heat and thumbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, pure bliss running through your veins at his touch. 

Your response had Javi practically growling, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he looked down to see the golden and diamond bands glistening on your finger, awestruck at the beautifully blissed out mess you were already becoming as his fingers curled, prodding at the spongy spot inside you that he knew drove you wild. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, Osita. My beautiful wife. Fuck- I can’t believe your mine. I love you so fucking much.” Javi groaned, his words muffled between the hot, wet kisses he kept planting on your lips, feeling your cunt beginning to clench around his digits. 

“I l-love- fuck- I love you too, Javi.” You whimpered, the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine beginning to build as Javi’s fingers pulsed in and out of your heat and thumb circled your throbbing clit, knowing with how worked up you were and how good he felt, it wouldn’t take much more before you were coming undone around his hand. 

“I know you’re close, baby. Let go, hermosa. Cum for me so I can fuck my wife and show her how much I love her.” 

“F-Fuckfuckfuck Javi. Don’t stop, baby, don’t s-sto-ahhhhhhhhh.” 

With his thumb circling faster and harder around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and fingers plunging in and out of your weeping hole, it wasn’t long before you could feel that all too familiar tingle spreading throughout your body, your orgasm flooding through every inch of you as you came around his fingers, soaking his hand. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. My good wife.” Javi groaned, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers from your dripping heat, admiring the slick and shiny mess you had made around his fingers, entranced by the way your arousal had coated his wedding band as he brought his hand to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean before beginning to work at his belt. “You taste so fucking sweet, baby.” 

You sat back up, looking over your heaving chest to see Javi shuffling his pants and boxers down his thighs, leaving them to pool around his ankles, revealing his cock, already so painfully hard and weeping with precum from his tip. Reaching down to run his fingers through your folds again, he collected your slick on his hand before rubbing it up and down his length, stroking himself to line up with your entrance. 

“F-fuck, let me feel you baby, p-please.” You whined, reaching up to grab fistfuls of Javi’s shirt, tugging him down to kiss you and lay his body on top of yours. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi moaned, slowly filling you up with his cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out against your cervix, letting you adjust to the fullness as he relished in the wet and warmth of your pussy gripping around him like a vice. 

“M-move, Javi, please, baby.” The sweet sting and stretch of Javi’s length inside you already wanting to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

Javi began to languidly thrust himself in and out of your heat, dragging his cock almost painfully slowly against your velvety walls, cursing under his breath at the feeling of his balls beginning to tighten in his stomach, knowing there was no way he was going to be able to last as long as he would have wanted to in the moment. 

“Javiiiii” You whined, your arms wrapping around back, nails pressing into his shoulders as his cock hit the spot inside you that lit you ablaze. His hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to rub your clit, still slow, taking his time with each graze of his fingertips as his pace held deep and steady. Every thrust in and out of his hips had you wrecked as he filled you so fully and intensely, moaning his name over and over while he grasped the meat of your thighs, pressing your knees against your chest to stretch you open even further.  

“God you’re so beautiful. My beautiful fucking wife. Gonna be such a beautiful mom for our kids.” Javi grunted, this thrusts becoming faster and sloppier as he let the reality of his marriage and actual attempts to start trying for a family burn a hole in the forefront of his mind, igniting something even feral within him, knowing he was one step closer to finally giving you and him what you both wanted more than anything. 

For Javi to get you pregnant.

The last sentence made your breath hitch in the back of your throat, whimpering at the notion that because you were finally married, there wasn’t much stopping you from tossing out your birth control tomorrow and trying to get pregnant by the end of the month. 

“J-Javi-” You whined, trying to form any sort of coherent thought as your brain short circuited from the pure bliss and heart racing thoughts running through your brain. 

“What, Osita?”  

“I-I want you- oh shit- to fuck a baby into me, Javi. I wanna throw out the rest of my birth control- I don’t care if the house- Jesus- isn’t finished. I wanna stop taking it tomorrow. I w-want you to- fuck- fill me up and get me pregnant.” 

You could practically feel the weight of Javi’s jaw dropping to the floor, eyes bulging out of his skull, and heart beating out of his chest, so shocked, he stopped himself mid thrust, just to make sure he had heard you correctly. 

“Osita- baby, are you- holy fuck- baby, are you serious?” 

You nodded your head frantically, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him in for an electric kiss before leaning back to whisper in his ear, your voice sultry and low. 

“I need my husband to fuck a baby into me. Please. Fuck a baby into me, Javi.” 

If Javi didn’t have his arms already braced on the bed, there’s no way in hell he wouldn’t have fallen over in pure delight at your request, his stomach now churning with the wildest mix of excitement, lust and pride, spreading up through his chest and across his face, the brown of his eyes darkening and awestruck smile widening. 

“You want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked, almost rhetorically, a devilish grin spreading between his cheeks as he began to pound into you again, not even giving you a chance to respond, knowing damn well what your answer was.  

If his thrusts weren’t already frantically rushed and sloppy, they most definitely were now, Javi practically on the brink of his own high just from the thought of getting to fuck you, knowing there was a real, true chance of getting you pregnant, trying to fight with everything in him to keep from busting right then, needing to make sure that you came again before he did. 

The lewd noises of your moans, wetness of Javi’s cock sliding in and out of you, and his hips snapping against yours coated the walls of the room, the both of you having no regard for anyone who may have been close enough to hear you, so caught up in the moment, that at this point, you couldn’t have cared less if anyone caught the both of you. 

“Answer me, baby. Mierda- You want me to fuck a baby into you, huh? Want me to fucking fill you up and get you pregnant? Show everyone you’re mine with our baby growing inside you?” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, pounding into your g-spot with blinding force, frantically circling your clit as he felt your cunt begin to clench tighter and tighter around his cock, knowing you just needed a little bit more before he had you coming undone. 

“Y-yes- fuckfuckfuck- I need you to, Javi, p-please baby, please, please, pleaaahhhhhhh-” 

Just like that, you could feel yourself gushing around Javi’s cock as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, crashing through every inch of your body, euphoria flooding through your veins, screaming his name while he fucked you through your high, desperately chasing his own. 

“I’ll give it to you baby, I- fuck me- I’ll give you everything you want. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I’ll give you a family, I’ll give you my heart, my soul, my everything, my- oh fuck!” 

Javi’s hips stuttered, forcing a low groan to rumble in his throat as he came, the hot ropes of his spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop inside you, still pulsing and thrusting inside you, ensuring that nothing went to waste. 

Slumping his body on top of yours, your chests rose and fell in sync, trying your best to catch your breaths as you came down from your highs, your mouths meeting in a sloppy kiss to try and ground  you back to reality. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered through your labored pants, laughing to yourself from the pure bliss of what had just happened, staring up at Javi with a radiant grin, brushing the sweat-dampened curls from his forehead. 

Javi hissed as he carefully pulled out, leaning back enough to see the smile on your face, gently cupping your cheek as he looked down at you with a goofy grin of his own. 

“Osita… Were you being- baby, were you serious about what you said?” 

“Jav, I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious about anything in my entire life. Is-is that okay with you?” You asked, biting down on your lip. 

“Is that okay with me?” He asked, almost mockingly, chucking to himself as he shook his head in disbelief, “We can really throw it away tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” 

“And you won’t bring it with you on the honeymoon?” 

“Nope.” You replied, popping the “p” at the end of the word. 

“And there’s- holy fuck- there’s a chance you could actually get pregnant soon?” Javi asked, his face glowing brighter and brighter with each question he asked. 

“Mmmhhmmm. Well, I mean, it might not happen right away but- Ahhhh Javi!” You giggled as your husband aggressively peppered ticklish kisses across your entire face, making you squeal and squirm in delight. 

“Fuck, I love you so much. Thank you.” Javi smiled, tears welling in his eyes as he looked down at you. 

“Jav, baby, don’t cry! Why are you crying, you dork?” 

“You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted. You married me, we’re gonna have a family, it’s just- fuck, I promise, that I wanna spend the rest of my life until the day I die showing you how thankful I am that you chose me. That you gave me all the things I stopped thinking I deserved. I love you so much, it fucking hurts, Osita. Thank you for choosing me.” 

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Javi, pulling him close to you in the tightest hug you could muster, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the weight of his body melt into yours, your bodies intertangled as one. 

“Javi, you’re the only one it ever could be. Te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar. (I love you more than words can say).” 

“Hey! Lovebirds! Are y’all in here?” 

Over the music and chatter of the party outside, you and Javi had been completely oblivious to the all too familiar southern twang of Steve’s voice behind the bedroom door, gently knocking from the outside after being sent on a mission to find where in the world the two of you had been for nearly a half hour. 

“Hello? Mr. and Mrs. Peña?” Steve rapped again, getting nothing in response but silence. Steve shrugged, drunk enough to have no fear to pound on the door repeatedly until the two of you showed up, now reaching down at the doorknob and giving it a jiggle. 

Steve was shocked to find that he could turn the handle, writing off the fact that they two of you would be in a room with an unlocked door after the 10 pounds of shit he had given Javi, and with his inhibitions severely lowered, he had  no problem cranking the knob and pushing the bedroom door wide open. 

“Hello? Earth to Javi and Mrs. Peña, are y’all in here or not because I- Oh Jesus Christ!” Steve shrieked, opening up the door to see you and Javi, your dress still hoisted up to your waist, and Javi’s bare ass completely on display, making the both of you scream just as loud in surprise at your unwanted visitor. 

“Murphy! Get the fuck out!” Javi snarled, quickly scrambling to try and pull your dress back down and his pants back up. 

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ!” Steve yelled, immediately bringing his hand to his face to cover up his eyes, trying to drunkenly stumble as quickly as he could back out of the room, but, because of his intoxicated state and self-imposed lack of vision, Steve found himself colliding head first with the wall, knocking himself to the ground before crawling across the floor like a frazzled toddler, kicking the door closed behind him. 

For as devastatingly embarrassed as you were by the whole debacle, you couldn’t help but cackle at the impeccable comedic timing of the whole thing, snickering to yourself as Javi finished buckling back up his pants and helping you up to stand before storming to the door, opening it to find Steve still sprawled on the floor in an a hysteric fit. 

“Are you fucking serious, Murph?” Javi growled, completely unamused. 

“God, I shoulda kept my bit that Connie cut in my speech. Y’all do know that doors have locks, right? Might be helpful if y’all learned how to use ‘em. Just food for thought.” Steve giggled, watching both of your faces grow beet red in embarrassment and at a loss for words. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Javi asked, pinching the arch of his nose between his fingers, shaking his head in frustration, looking down the hallway to make sure that Steve was the only presence you needed to worry about. 

“I’m tryin’ to save your asses before someone else worse than me walks in on the two of you gettin’ it on. Y’all do realize you’ve been gone for almost 45 minutes right? Being the- oh shit-” Steve paused, letting out a giant burp,” ‘cuse me, being the good Best Man I am, I decided to try and find you two idiots before people started askin’ too many questions. So, you’re welcome.” Steve grunted, pushing himself up to stand, cocking his head at the both of, hands on his hips, trying to prove his point. “Also, do you two anything else besides fuc-” 

“Steve! Jesus Christ, will you shut the fuck up!” Javi groaned, staring down at the floor, taking a deep breath to compose himself before he decided to kick Steve right back down to the ground again. 

“...It’s really been 45 minutes?” You grimaced, looking back between Steve and Javi, shrugging at your husband that any longer, your mom would have been on a search party for you, and it would have been your whole family at Javi’s bedroom door instead of just Steve. 

“Yeah, and I’m the first to come lookin’ after ya, so again, you’re welcome. Jesus, Javi, you can really last for 45 fuckin minutes? How the-” 

“Murphy!” 

“Sorry…” 

“Fuck me….” 

“Think you and your wife already took care of that one…” Steve muttered under his breath, trying not to laugh.

“I swear to God, Steve…” 

“Okay, I’m done! I’m done! Swear!” Steve held up his hands in defense, taking a step back away from Javi.   

“Will you please just give us a minute, Murph?” Javi sighed, running his hand through his hair, trying with every bone in his body to keep his patience with his drunken friend. 

“Fine, fine, fine. 1 minute. I’m counting. Use your time wisely and appropriately, you sickos.” Steve snickered, disappearing down the hallway, only to peek his head back out around the corner. “And Jav?”

“What, Murph?” 

“Your fly’s undone.”

As you and Javi sheepishly made your way back out to the backyard, you couldn't have been more relieved to see that at this point, anyone still left at your reception was far too drunk to care that you had been missing, seeing that almost all of your guests were out on the dance floor, partying away without a care in the world, or any inkling of what you and Javi had been up to. 

“Longer than a minute, but beggars can’t be choosers I guess.” Steve chuckled, creeping up behind you with two drinks in hand, passing them both off to you and Javi. “Here. Figured I owe ya a drink. These are on me.” 

“We paid for the bar, Murph.” 

“Alright, well I guess these ones are on you, Grumpy Pants.”  Steve grumbled mockingly, holding up his hands in defense, trying not to stumble over his own two feet as he made his way back to the dance floor. 

“Remind me again why I picked him to be my best man?” Javi laughed, taking a sip of his drink, the both of you snickering as you watched Steve whip out some questionable dance moves to “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen blaring in the background and Connie shake her head at her husband. 

“Because you love him. Don’t get me wrong, he’s an idiot, but he’s a good guy.” You smiled, giving Javi a little nudge, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the dance floor. “Hey-” You paused, holding up your glass and raising it to Javi’s. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers to what, Osita?” Javi asked, wrapping his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he brought his glass next to yours. 

“Cheers to us. I love you so much, Javier Peña, it makes me sick. Sicker than all this tequila is gonna make me tomorrow after I keep drinking it the rest of the night.” 

The two of you snorted, goofily clinking your glasses and taking a hefty sip of your drinks as you looked out on the dance floor, your hearts overflowing with love and joy to know that you were surrounded by all of the people in the world you cared about most, even the ones that couldn’t be physically with you, to celebrate the biggest day of your life and the start of your new forever. 

“Cheers, Hermosa. I love you so goddamn much. Maybe the hangover will help distract the nerves on the flight tomorrow.” Javi smirked, taking another sip of his drink as he shook you playfully in his grasp, your faces both lighting up as you remembered that tomorrow, you be in the Bahamas for the next 10 days, where the only thing you needed to worry about was where you wanted to lay on the beach, what drink you wanted in your hand, and now, seeing how quickly Javi could get you pregnant. 

“Oh shut up.” You sighed, giving Javi a little slap to the chest before taking another sip of your drink, looking up at Javi with heavy lashes, batting your eyes at him. “You just have to remind me that I have to do some unpacking before we leave tomorrow.” 

“Unpacking?” Javi asked, tilting his head in confusion at you, the gears in his brain turning as you bit down on your lip, raising your eyebrow at him, waiting for him to piece together your clue. “Oh. Oh.” 

Javi’s eyes went wide as he remembered what you meant, heart racing in anticipation, never imagining before today that he would have been so excited to actively throw away birth control to try and have a kid.

“Can we throw it away tonight?” Javi pleaded, his puppy dog eyes in full effect. 

“I’m not sure what difference tonight and tomorrow morning is gonna make, but sure. Happy wedding present.” You giggled, pressing up onto your tiptoes to plant a long, hot kiss. 

“Best fucking gift I could ask for besides the fact I finally get to call you my wife.” 

As the end of the song slowly faded out, “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” began to play next in the background, your face lighting up in excitement and Javi’s eyes rolling, hearing the song that had been most likely the biggest controversy of your entire wedding planning process now bumping through the speakers, followed by the cheers and hollers of your guests. 

“I told you people would want to hear this song.” You said smugly, crossing your arms over your chest, popping your hip at Javi as you sassed him, making him shake his head at your theatrics. 

“It doesn’t stop it from being a stupidly annoying song.” 

“A stupidly annoying song that people love. A stupidly annoying song that your wife loves.” You teased. “Whaddya say, Peña, can you stand this unbearably stupid song to go dance with me? 

“I’d dance to this song with you a million times if it means I get to dance with you.” 

Grabbing Javi by the hand, you tugged him out to the dance floor in a fit of giggles and smiles, jumping along and dancing to the beat song after song the rest of the night with your friends, family and husband. 

You couldn't help but catch yourself stopping now and again to smile to yourself to take everything in, feeling like you needed to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really real. Just over a year ago, your life felt like it had hit an all time low. You had moved halfway across the country to try and run from your pain, desperate to find any way to bring yourself any ounce of peace in your ocean of hurt. It felt like fate had forsaken you for the worst, kicking you while you were down, and leaving destruction in its wake. 

But never in a million years would you have believed that fate would have sent you with a one way ticket to Laredo, Texas, and that trip would bring so much more than just the glimmer of hope you longed for. It had brought you peace, comfort, the acceptance you weren’t sure you would have ever allowed yourself to feel. Laredo had brought you everything you never expected, and all of the things you never thought you deserved. 

It brought you Javi- the man who single handedly changed your life for the better, loving you unconditionally for every part of your being and piecing back together the parts of your heart you had left broken.

It brought you the man you now got to call your husband. 

Fate and life have funny ways of working together to bring you the things you need the most when you least expect them. And today, as you got to marry the love of your life and your very best friend, you knew you’d be forever thankful that fate stepped in when you needed it most. 

La vida es graciosa, no lo crees? (Life is funny, isn’t it?)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @amyispxnk @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

[mickyschumacher]

style was so fucking good HOLY SHITTTTT can u please please please do a part 2 xx

𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after separating from carlos, you thought you would never ever have to see him again. but fate is demanding and it demands you bumping into him in a club. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy (bc where would we be without it), reader is younger than carlos but not like insanely, reader has vagina, angst, ferrari SLANDER, charles moves to redbull oop, GOOGLED SPANISH! I'M SORRY 😭, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies peeps!), oral sex, cumming inside, car sex = dangerous car driving, brief handjob, dry(?) humping, confession time AHHH, incorrect modelling stuff again lol, nicer!carlos ♡︎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: complicated ex!carlos sainz x model!fem!reader, bestie!lily he x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+ (whoops)

𝐀/𝐍: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so.... here it is! i hope this is up to your par with what you were thinking about ♡︎ has bit of a build up but the smut is there! decently proof read... i think? my eyes are vv tired from these exams :(

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years.

For you that meant with some crazy luck becoming the World's top supermodel. Kendall Jenner, Gigi and Bella Hadid, Emily Ratajkowski... whoever the top once was, you had put them all to shame. You were booked and busier than ever. You could've sworn you used to get your beauty sleep but now you were lucky if you could even get an hour let alone eight. The billboards and the magazines loved you and the public, god the public, they cherished you.

Never had the world needed a relatable, kind role model more and there you were. A diamond in the rough, waiting to be seen. You were even on your way of becoming an entrepreneur in sustainable fashion.

Everything was going your way.

It was a surprise for you. After Carlos, you thought you would be moping forever. And you did, at least for a few days. But when your manager and stylist advised you to release your pent up emotions, you thought the best way to do that was fully committing yourself to your work.

No more relationships. No hookups. No races. No Carlos.

And somehow, it worked. You were a single supermodel who won over the public. No races, no Carlos. You were bringing your company money.

But yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about Carlos. His smugness, the puppy brown eyes, his touch, the little signs that he cared; the softening of the side of his eyes when he looked at you before they were ridden with lust or his need to have some part of him touching you; his hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, or soft circles rubbed on your inner wrist.

You missed him.

But that was three years ago.

You and Carlos didn't even run in the same circles anymore.

For Carlos, three years meant extending his contract with Ferrari, although God knows why, losing three chances at a championship, fighting with Adami over the radio far more than he liked, and losing Charles to Red Bull. All while feeling very empty. No one really recognised who Carlos was anymore. Not his family, not the drivers, and not the fans. Hell, he himself didn't know who he was.

Whoever Carlos was right now... it was the mere shell of who he used to be.

He was drinking far too much for an F1 driver celebrating other's podiums. And now he got angry. He didn't get angry, he seethed. He let himself feel vexed in order to get motivated. But now he was just angry and torn but not for no reason.

Carlos was an idiot. He had made an irrevocably stupid decision. Separating from you was the worse decision he had ever made. And that said something considering he had extended with the most infuriating F1 team of the past few years.

How could he have even made that decision? Normally, he thought things out. He was an F1 driver, for God's sake. Some sort of thought could be accounted for. But he didn't know what it was... maybe he was too emotional the night he was with you. Whatever it was, he should've thought it out.

God, Carlos should've realised that all he needed to do was put more effort it. You and him... it would've worked. He would've stopped hurting you. He would've been fully committed to you.

But no. He had fuck to it up.

To say Carlos hadn't been stalking your socials everyday was an understatement. Cumming to your name was a pre-race ritual that had now turned into checking what projects you were doing. Not to be dramatic, but to him, it felt like you were just keeping him alive, giving him a reason to live.

Carlos couldn't even muster the courage to call you and ask if you could talk. He didn't deserve that. Like he said, you deserved more. And all these fans and the fame and money... you deserved all of it and more. Staying away from you was the best thing he could do for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos had made a terrible, terrible decision to attend the Miami after race party after saying he wouldn't. In fact, he couldn't. Not when he knew for a fact that you were in a club only down the street.

The temptation to see you was strong.

The club lights flared across the dance floor while the heat and humidity of all these dancing bodies clung to his warm skin. Carlos' hands shook silently at his side while Charles and Lando mixed in conversation. Every fibre of his body was telling his feet to stick to this floor. He couldn't see you. He was only going to ruin your night. He bit down on his lip, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

But his heart... it was a strong heart. And it was telling him to take that five minute walk.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air," Carlos yelled over the music blaring in his ears. Charles and Lando gave the Spaniard a nod before returning to their conversation.

Carlos tried to make his walk to the club as long as possible, veering off to the side, staring far too long into the windows of other stores. But eventually, he stood in front of the thriving club.

You were celebrating having reached 50 Vogue covers, including the Big Four twice. You told your manager you were fine with having dinner at home but the refusal was immediate and came with the claim of you needing a break. So here you were, dressed in the most sparkly, skimpy, backless deep cleavage silver slip dress, dancing your ass off.

When Carlos entered the club, it was hard to miss you. How could he? You were the centre of attention, dancing around in your little dress that was fighting to cling to your body while everyone cheered you on.

He shouldn't of come. He knew it. Because now, he couldn't leave. No matter how much he knew that to leave was the right decision.

You, on the other hand, didn't notice Carlos so easily. You were having the time of your life, swaying your hips side-to-side as the beat coursed through your veins. Your skin was dotted with sweat while a handsome stranger had come up to you, clearly looking to hook up. And while you weren't looking to screw just anyone, you couldn't shy away from the little bit of grinding your body so desperately craved.

The euphoria wasn't as high as you had once felt but it was enough to keep you on your toes. Heat travelled through your stomach while your eyes closed and your head fell back as another man moved behind you. You were in a haze of pleasure that made your pussy ache.

God, maybe you were too desperate for some pleasure. Because why did it feel like Carlos' cologne had engulfed you? Why did the fire burning within you flare up even further all of a sudden?

Your eyes shot open and a gasp fell from your lips when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at the man with wide eyes.

"Cariño," Carlos breathed out, hooded eyes peering down at you.

Your throat felt constricted. Your eyes watered with anger and shock.

"No," You said, pulling yourself away from him.

"No, no, no," You repeated while Carlos took a step towards you, hand reaching out to stop freaking you out.

"Y/N... I–" Carlos was cut short as you raced towards your table and picked up your purse and jacket, heading towards the exit doors of the club.

You could hear Carlos jog to catch up with you. Sighing, you put on your jacket, striding as far as you could in those stupidly beautiful heels you had worn. But you seemed to forget that he was an athlete at the end of the day.

"Y/N, please. Don't do this," Carlos begged, an inch away from you.

Your lips sunk into your bottom lip, ears attempting to block out the warm voice you had been craving for the past three years. Your heart was racing against your chest while your mind fell into disarray.

"Y/N," Carlos repeated, grabbing your arm gently.

You sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, feeling the hairs of your body stand straight. You turned and looked up at him with with reddened eyes, making him pause for a second.

"Three years, Carlos, three goddamn years... of nothing," You exasperated with the familiar words falling off your tongue all too easily.

"I know. I'm–"

"'... so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses.' Is that what you were going to say, Carlos?" You asked incredulously, arms folded as if they were going to protect you from all this sudden pain.

Carlos winced at your words, staring at you helplessly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I was doing fine... and you... what the hell were you thinking, Carlos?"

A silence settled between the both of you as the cold night air raced to cool down your flushed cheeks. Carlos breathed deeply. "I-I... I missed you, cariño. That's what I was thinking. That what I have been thinking for the past three years. I miss you all the time."

You stared at Carlos silently, chewing down on your lip nervously. This was what you wanted. You had waited all this time to hear those very words fall from his lips. Yet all you could say was: "So? That doesn't change anything." The lie made you crumble on the inside but you continued to speak. "You said it yourself, Carlos, we aren't good for each other. That I... deserve more."

"And you do!" Carlos spluttered, hands flailing about. "You deserve more than a better man, Y/N. You deserve the fucking universe. But I was wrong! I was wrong to say that we aren't good together. We can be good together. I think you complete me and if you let me even have the chance, I would be the luckiest man ever to be with you."

Carlos' hands were now gently holding your face, thumb gently brushing your heated skin. Your heart was now pounding in your eardrums. Your throat was caught. You felt impossibly warm. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. "I... I gave you so many chances," You whispered.

Carlos' eyes softened at your broken voice as a sorry expression fell over his face. "I know," He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself, cariño. But if I have to spend forever trying to make it up to you, I gladly will."

"Carlos," You sighed, closing your eyes. You were annoyed with yourself. Annoyed at the fact you were leaning into his touch and annoyed at the familiar heartache that always let him get away with what he wanted. "I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt again. I don't want to hurt you either."

Carlos felt his heart clench, jaw taut with irritation. Every fibre of him hated that you even had to say that. But you were right. You always were. He whispered softly, letting his forehead meet yours, "You won't. I promise. I promise to be a better man. Just please give me a chance... give us a chance."

You opened your eyes to see those desperate puppy eyes boring into yours. You brought your hand to the one holding on your face, rubbing it gently. You knew your answer the moment he asked. "Okay," You responded with a small smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Initially, it was hard to get as comfortable as you once were with Carlos. You took every step with caution and he could tell by the scrunch of your nose and the chewing of you lip when you pondered for a moment too long. It was eating at him but there was nothing he could do but fufill his promise to you.

Carlos took you out on several dates as opposed to the few he previously taken you on. They weren't grand. No. Instead they were intimate. Dates that showed he was putting effort in. Like the time he decided to have a dinner date at his house where all the food was prepared by him. It was disastrous to say the least but you were also convinced he had gotten his sisters to help him out given that there was burnt food in the trash and it's aroma covered by candles and perfume in the air.

A sunset picnic followed after that. It was one of your favourites. The sun was setting, of course, and the warm breeze brushed past you while you ended up reading one of your favourite childhood books to Carlos. He listened intently as his hands roamed your skin. It wasn't necessarily sensual but it was intimate. Like all he wanted to do was just bathe in your presence. And bathe Carlos did as he began to ask you questions about your childhood and your family.

It bugged him that despite being with you for some time, he knew nothing about you. At least not really. Knowing your body reactions felt superficial in comparison to finding out you had a family pet that you cherished so much, your financial hardships, or that your parents disapproved of your modelling. That really hurt him. You didn't have anyone close to you. And he had just left you.

Carlos mentioned to you how much of a polla he truly was, apologising for all you had gone through. And while you laughed at his comment, you thanked him, hesitantly pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Carlos gazed at you as his heart throbbed at your action. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eyes. There was something about this moment... he wasn't quite sure whether it was the setting sun that made you glow or that breeze that made your hair gently fly while your perfume consumed him, but it made him nervous and happy.

Carlos smiled at your raised brows. "You're just so beautiful, cariño."

You sucked in a sharp breath. That look in his eyes... it was the same one you gave him when you were just mesmerised by his beauty. And now he looked at you the same way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Three months had passed and you had finally stepped into the paddock after what had felt like forever. Everyone was psyched that you were back here. Fans were screaming your name and the drivers had finally seen the reason behind the sudden change in Carlos.

"So... you and Y/N?" Lando queried carefully, watching you talk to Lily and Alex about all the things the both of you had missed.

Carlos peered over to you, catching your passing eyes. His heart skipped a beat at your little wave and smiling eyes. He grinned at you and waved back.

Lando watched the exchange with curious eyes, pulling a feigned pained expression. "Yeah... you and Y/N."

Carlos rolled his eyes at the man who had become one of his closest friends. "Yes, Lando, we're together. We've... we've been taking it slow. So I don't fuck it up."

Lando smiled at Carlos' words. He slapped his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Good," He chirped, before dropping his smile. "You better not. That's basically my best friend right there. You hurt her, you better keep an eye out for Lily and I, and Alex by association."

Carlos chuckled. "Imagine if Fewtrell heard that."

"What Max doesn't know won't hurt him," Lando shrugged.

Carlos smiled in amusement, finding you walking towards him with the previously mentioned couple. "What are you two trying to get my lovely lady to do?" He asked with narrowed eyes when you appeared with a suspiciously wide smile. A beautiful smile, but suspicious nonetheless.

You flushed at his words, taking in a deep breath. "I may have been convinced to do a bit of... ugh, golf."

Golf. Your most dreaded sport. From the moment you knew what it was, you could not think of a more boring sport to save your life. No offence to Lily, but it was an old man's sport. And every F1 driver playing it did not help. But Lily being the amazing girl she was had changed your mind.

Lando cheered and Carlos' eyes widened slightly. "How did you manage to convince her? Even I couldn't get her to join me. Me out of all people."

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. "I think your win from me golfing is a little different from Lily's. Lily wants me to learn."

"Yeah? And what do I want that is so different?" Carlos asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to me.

You stood on your toes a bit, reaching his ear. "Quieres verme con esa diminuta ropa de golf," You whispered in Spanish, pulling away from his ear. "Esa es la diferencia." You want to see me in those teeny little golf clothes. That's the difference.

You felt a familiar tingle creep up your spine as you met Carlos' darkened eyes and tightened grip on your waist. His tongue darted out, swiping his bottom lip while he eyed you carefully. You were a vixen. A final smug smile rested on his face. "You're right, cariño. That's exactly what I want."

Lily looked at you two blankly. "Anyone catch that?" She asked Alex and Lando, who both shook their heads. She sighed, "Leave it to us to not know one of the most popular languages in the world. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. Try keep your hands off each other, there's kids."

Lando gaped at Lily's side glance towards him. "Well I never!"

Carlos grinned at Lando's words, keeping an eye on you. "I'll try."

You drew a sharp breath. What kind of mess had you exactly set up for yourself?

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Carlos wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when you had told him that your manager had sorted out a golf outfit since it was not like you were playing an official tournament. But when you arrived to meet Carlos, Lando, Lily, and Alex at the golf course, Carlos let out the most strained sigh he had ever released.

You were a model, sorry, a supermodel, you looked good in everything already. But you dressed up for his favourite pass time was killing him.

You stood in front of him in the sun visor that hid your long hair, wearing the absolute tightest sleeveless polo shirt known to mankind tucked into small little pink skirt that rested at the middle of your thighs.

God, you were leaving very little for Carlos to imagine. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do to you first: 'accidentally' splash that white shirt with water because he just knew by those nipples that you weren't wearing a bra or excuse the both of you to the bathroom where he could bend you over and fuck you senselessly.

Lily let out a low whistle when she saw you. "Y/N, the woman you are..." She clicked her tongue while shaking her head.

You laughed lightly as Alex look at her incredulously. "I'm right here, you know."

"Alex, are you a woman named Y/N?" Lily asked genuinely.

"I– no," Alex stuttered with furrowed brows while Lando grinned.

"That’s what I thought!" Lilly gave a smug smile, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before linking her arm with yours.

Alex stood with Carlos, blinking blankly at your retreating figures. “I don’t get it,” Alex told the Spaniard.

Lando chuckled while Carlos placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t need to. It’s Y/N. Now come on. From what I know, you have a lot to learn from Lily.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos was already bracing himself for whatever antics you were going to put up. He was expecting your full on ass up against him, teasing him to the point where he did end up taking you in the bathroom.

But you had decided to go the hard way.

When Carlos was teaching you how to hit the ball and what angle to use the golf club, he severely used the opportunity to put his hands on your hips. He thought you were going to fall back into his chest and press up on him. But instead you decided to listen to his instructions all so intently.

Then he saw it.

Your tongue darting out past those perfect lips of yours, wetting all those crevices with a natural sheen before you sunk your teeth to concentrate on hitting the ball.

And after he had seen it, Carlos couldn’t see anything else normally. Or he would argue that you wouldn’t let him.

No way was the slip of the golf ball accidental. Not when he watched you slowly bend down to get it, revealing your delicious cleavage in the so very unfortunate cut of your polo. Not when he watched your pink skirt cling to your thighs tightly as your lips jutted out to blow away the dirt from the ball.

It was a golf ball, for God’s sake. Of course it was going to have dirt on it.

And as you stood up, you turned so your ass faced him, skirt hugging your ass tight enough so he could see a sliver of your bare pussy.

Carlos could swear that he had never clutched a golf club as hard as he had in his life.

To make matters worse, all you did was strut away with a smirk while you shamelessly checked him out all throughout the games, leaving him with a semi-hard he tried his best to hide behind the thin handle of the club.

You were torturing him without even touching him. And he hated it.

Carlos couldn’t even excuse himself nor you to the bathroom after you purposefully decide to cling to Lily, who was suggesting different methods to play.

The dreadful day had finally come to an end as everyone began to feel the kick of playing golf for so long. You and Carlos bid goodbye to Lily, Alex, and Lando, after your boyfriend definitely did not inform you that you were going back home with him instead of your manager.

After packing your things away in Carlos’ red Ferrari, you happily took a seat in the front, letting out a small yawn as you stretched your arms.

Carlos quietly eyed you as he reversed out of the parking lot. “Tired?” He asked.

You nodded with slightly heavy eyelids. “It takes a lot of energy.”

“I agree,” Carlos nodded. “Teasing takes a lot of energy, hmm?”

Your eyes were fully awake now. You peered at the side of Carlos’ face. His jaw was taut and hands tightly gripped the wheel. You tried to hide your teetering smile but it was difficult. You just loved riling up Carlos. Especially sexually.

“A lot,” You agreed, also nodding before you moved your eyes out your window to prevent you from fully grinning.

Carlos internally sighed. You were a menace.

As he drove to his hotel, an idea popped into Carlos’ head. He knew the way to hotel and golf course like the back of his hand. He also knew that in two left turns, there was the most sketchy but quiet road in town.

Carlos pushed down the indicator, watching the left arrow blink rapidly at him while he turned the wheel. He could see your head turn to him in curiosity.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Carlos smiled softly, shaking his head as if it was nothing while taking the last left turn.

You raised a brow. You feigned a gasp. “Is this where you kill me? Is this how I die? On some road in Miami?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Yes. How did you know?” He deadpanned.

Carlos parked the car in between some trees, ensuring that all the windows were fairly covered because no matter what, at the end of the day, he cared for both for your images.

Carlos turned to find your eyes already on him, waiting for an explanation. “You know the last time we met in Miami?”

You blinked blankly at him. “How could I forget?” You retorted sarcastically, covering up any last few traces of pain associated with that trip.

Carlos pursed his lips, smiling apologetically. He took your hands into his, rubbing them gently. “Well, when we were in the car, I had this vision—well I always have this vision but it was strong then, anyways—I had this vision of fucking you in this car, on the highway, ass on the wheel, making a mess on me, and making you cum so hard that you cover that Ferrari logo.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes dilated in pleasure. Suddenly you felt tingly all over your body and a strong heat pulsating in between your thighs. You pressed your thighs together at the thought.

“So I thought,” Carlos confused, smirking at your action, “although you’ve been a tease, I would still like to fuck the life out of you, cariño. Isn’t that so nice of me?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You wish you had the urge to roll your eyes. You really wish you did. But your breath was caught in your throat and you just felt a dribble of arousal leak past your aching core.

Instead you moved over to Carlos, putting a leg on either side of him and brought your lips to his.

Carlos immediately responded, hands flying towards your hips, gripping on your skin while he intensely kissed you back. He kissed you not just as a starved man, but a parched man. As if your lips were water and all he could do was drink you.

Your stomach churned with a familiar fire of pleasure. Your skin raised with goosebumps as Carlos’ thumbs circled your skin through the fairly thin fabric of your polo. A muffled moan was lodged in your throat the sound of Carlos’ grunts.

Carlos’ hands moved from your hips to the hem of your skirt. His hands dipped under the pink material that had been enticing him all day, feeling the ample flesh of your bare ass. An audible moan came from his throat as you had moved your lips to his neck to stop drinking those beautiful sounds.

“You’re such a tease, you know that? No fucking underwear so I could see those juicy lips of yours? Were you just waiting for me to take you from behind? What if Lando saw? Hmm?” Carlos queried, groping your ass while his fiery puppy browns pierced into your eyes.

You let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his cock.

“You like that, cariño? The idea of getting caught?” Carlos asked even though he clearly knew the answer if he looked down at the dark stain beginning to form on the front of your skirt.

Carlos smiled softly at your impatient eyes, pressed your hips onto his groin. “Grind on me, cariño. Make a mess on me,” He whispered, taking your lips with his once again.

You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth in his bulge. The wave of arousal you craved slowly creeped up on you. The hard textured material of his shirt felt like a sin against your pussy. Carlos’ hands helping you keep your pace and making sure you felt every part of hard-on set you on fire.

Smoothly, Carlos used one of his hands to sneak up your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers leaving you in a blaze as he grazed your skin. “That’s it, cariño, that’s it,” He murmured against your lips. His fingers confused past the apex of your thigh, nearing your burning core.

Fuck, were you turned on. The heat radiating off your pussy was dangerous. His thumb edged towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly.

“Shit,” you swore, arching your back against the steering wheel. Your pussy ground up against his fingers while trying to press further on his cock; entertaining both levels of pleasure.

Carlos felt his cock tighten painfully against his hands when he moved his eyes from you and down to where your pussy met him. God, you had made a mess. His eyes flickered back up, watching you obscenely cover the Prancing Horse. “Merde,” He cussed.

This was how he wanted you. Fuck. Making a claim on everything that belonged to him with your body. Just the way he wanted.

You could feel Carlos dip his head forward, giving a long lick to your right nipple. You were sure your white polo was now see through, letting your pebbled mounds become available for Carlos’ disposal. You moaned, feeling your pussy become sticky with pleasure as Carlos pulled down the cut of your polo, freeing your breasts from those teasing confines, watching them bounce in admiration before he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

You arched your back even further, pushing your breast into his mouth while the other hand resting on your hip moved to fondle your lonely nipple, leaving you to do the rest of the work. "Carlos," You cried out breathlessly, speeding the pace of your hips as a familiar coil began to unwind at the pit of your stomach.

Carlos knew that tone better than he knew his circuits. Unlatching his swollen lips from your nipple, he looked up at you, making you moan even further. It was hard to disagree that Carlos was a good looking man, but right now, you were seeing him like no other: puffy lips, sweat-ridden tousled brown hair, cheeks freckled with pinks and reds, dark lust-hazed eyes... all for you.

"Don't cum just yet, cariño. I need to be inside you," Carlos panted, his tongue swiping his lips drenched.

You shuddered at the action before looking at him in dismay. "Carlos. Papi, no. Por favor." Please.

Just when Carlos thought his cock couldn't harden any further, you had proven the impossible. He held your chin in his hand, forcing you to hold his gaze. "Don't do that, cariño. Don't papi me. I'm already being so nice, hmm? Be a good girl and listen to be, okay baby?"

You sighed in frustration but you hips eased it's speed, succumbing to Carlos without a second thought.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of your head, continuing to rub your clit excruciatingly slow. "That's my girl," He praised, pressing you right against the steering wheel as he lifted his hips up.

Naturally your hands fell to his shorts, eagerly pushing down the pair of clothing as far as you could in this space. Your mouth salivated at the large bulge in his grey boxers. It was like his cock was greeting you; aching to me to you. In awe, you put your hand over his hard cock, softly brushing over the pulsating bulge.

"Fuck," Carlos sighed, eyes closed, feeling like he was on an obscene high already. He felt you gently trace over his thick cock, going even slower when you reached his tip, painstakingly grazing his slit through his boxers. He shot out his hand, holding yours in place.

Carlos swallowed all the saliva that he had gathered after seeing your wide, almost innocent, eyes beaming at him while a sickly sweet smile sprawled across your face. Jesus. How did he ever let you go? Now that he had you, he most certainly couldn't.

You grinned, knowing exactly how to awake the monster within him. You pushed down his boxers, letting him fully settle into the seat of the Ferrari and his cock stand against his toned stomach with a shade that almost made it look like it was angry with you for taking this long.

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you let the hot clear fluid slowly fall from your lips and onto his cock. Carlos sighed at the feeling, thumb reaching out to gather the last few drops from your lips before you brought it into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb, giving him a pre-show before you released him.

Carlos watched as you bent down towards his cock, using your hand to rub your saliva down his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulsing in your hands, dying to be inside you. You lifted yourself back up, signalling Carlos you were ready.

Carlos' hands skated up your skirt, grabbing your bare hips as he guided you over his cock. All this time he had been teasing you as awfully as you had teased him today, so when you felt his cock against your wet folds, you let out a gasp while you hips bucked against involuntarily.

"Jesus fucking Christ," You swore, shuddering at the intoxicating high swarming through your body.

Carlos' cock throbbed against your pussy. He loved your sensitivity, so he pushed himself through your folds again, tip rubbing against your stimulated clit. He grunted against you. He could watch your body defy you over and over again.

But as much as he loved it, Carlos had been waiting to be in you liked a starved man.

Carlos' eyes flittered up to yours while he slowly pushed his cock into you. He memorised you carefully. Every twitch, every quiver. Your parter lips, the frequency of your moan. The contortion of your eyebrows while pleasure laced your eyes. He could remember you like this forever; his beautiful girl.

"Carlos," You panted, "more, please."

"Your wish is my command, princesa," Carlos whispered against your skin, pushing his hips further into you. His hands tightened around your waist, the warm grip of your folds pulling him in like a drug.

You knew it then and you knew it know. Carols had bewitched you. You would never be able to get enough of this feeling. The feeling of his cock jerking into your pussy because he just can't control himself. Nor the feeling of sucking him in like a vice because you want him all to yourself.

Carlos moaned, thrusting his aching cock while he muttered obscenities as if he was under some sort of spell. For what it was worth, he was. Every day, you entranced him. But right now, the sight of you against the Prancing Horse that was waiting to be covered in your cum... your saliva-covered breasts bouncing, your arched back against the wheel... it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy.

Your hands travelled to his hair, lips grazing past the bridge of his nose while you groaned. Your fingers wrapped his dishevelled brown waves around them, giving his locks a slight tug that coursed down his body.

Your hips ground against Carlos harshly, attempting to take any extra sliver of euphoria. His cock drove in and out of you at a rate that left no innocence in this car. It was lewd; the slapping of your sticky skin against one another, your breathless pants mingling together, and the fogged windows occurring from your feverish skin. Fuck, the both of you were in overdrive.

You let out a small whimper when you felt your body start to shake. You looked down at Carlos, who was peppering your bare shoulder with long sloppy kisses as he continued to thrust. Your eyes softened and the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "Carlos, I–"

Carlos smiled at the urgency in your voice. He began to pick up his pace, let out a few breathless pants. "Cum for me, mi amor."

You shook your head. "No, fuck, fuck, I–" You closed your eyes at the nearing high but forced them to open again, finding those puppy browns staring you down with confusion and maybe, just maybe, a bit of trauma from the last time. But you just had to say it. "I love you, Carlos. I love you so fucking much, mi amor. And I'll love you forever," You sobbed out.

Carlos gazed at you with wide eyes, his pace faltering slightly. As much as it turned him on, his heart was probably ten times happier. He felt warm; complete. He softened his gaze, bringing one hand to your cheek. His heart swelled at your natural lean in. Brushing his thumb gently, "I love you so much, Y/N. So much. And I'll never forget to remind you until my very last breath. You're my entire universe, querida (darling)."

Your eyes watered with a sickening amount of love as your body was hit with wave after wave. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed, clenching your eyes, a few tears slowly falling. Your hips bucked up against him, reaching for the high as Carlos rubbed your clit in fast circles.

"That's it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cover the the entire fucking wheel. Make a mess," Carlos encouraged, pushing you against the wheel, making your body convulse even further at the new texture.

"Fuck!" You swore, pussy throbbing and hips involuntarily jerking, reaching your climax.

Carlos groaned at the tight clench around his cock.

"Cum for me, Carlos. Look at the mess I made. All because of you. All for you," You coaxed, riding your sensitive pussy over him slowly.

His eyes flickered to the black Prancing Horse covered in your arousal; each little crevice of the wheel soaking up your cum. God, the monster you made him... He grunted, speeding up his pace as the coil in his stomach began to unwind quickly.

"Fuck, fuck," Carlos moaned loudly, holding you tightly to him. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," He muttered like a mantra, hips stuttering against you. He twitched inside you, feeling the hot salty strings of his cum spill into you.

"Oh, fuck," He sighed again, head falling on your chest while you moaned at the feeling of his cum inside you, clenching just one more time. His cock throbbed with another small high, pumping the last few ropes of his cum into you.

You let out a slow exhale, lifting Carlos' head by tilting his chin to face you. You rubbed his face gently, leaving a trail of kisses on his face as you both calmed down. You eyed the fogged windows and turned to see the Prancing Horse that had started this whole thing in the first place. You laughed softly.

"Well that was a stylish vision you had there," You remarked with a grin.

Carlos grinned right back at you. "Oh, cariño, we are doing that at least once every week."

"Oh, really?" You teased, putting your hands around his neck. "Well this type of car sex is definitely my style," You agreed after some feigned thinking.

Carlos smiled, tucking your sweaty hair behind your ears. He placed a long kiss on your lips. "It's our style."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[locomoqo]

just one night

— samuel seo x reader

details: NSFW under the cut, fem bodied reader, p in v (samuel puts you in full nelson), cunnilingus, nipple play, possessive sex, he slaps your kitty, mirror sex, slight exhibitionism, public sex (?), unprotected, toxic rs

A/N: this is for all my ppl who rq'd samuel smut and also i kindaaa went overboard (2.4k wc) with this bc i was listening to house of cards and a bunch of the weeknd songs🥸

You and Samuel's relationship, to put it lightly, had always been a roller coaster. Sure, you had your happy moments, but they never lasted long before you were fighting over something. And when you weren't fighting, you both became ghosts to each other—minimal interactions, going to bed with your backs turned. You tried to end things multiple times, and Samuel let it happen. Because one thing Samuel knew for certain was that you'd always come back.

The first time you broke up with him, he was desperate—begging you to come back, and you did. After that, though, it became a routine. He no longer took the breakups seriously, knowing that with enough sweet words and pleading, you'd always return.

But this time was different.

This time, he miscalculated. He didn't take the breakup seriously, and that was his mistake, because this time you stood firm. No amount of texts, missed calls, or even the bouquets he sent to your door swayed you. You stayed gone. And it took him a while to realize you meant it this time.

So he tried to move on. He cut contact, tried to distract himself. But the truth was, he hadn't moved on at all.

Curiosity got the better of him after a few months, and he found out you were seeing someone else. What's that saying again? Oh, right—curiosity killed the cat.

That was what brought him here, to this crowded club. Samuel wasn’t here to meet new people—well, maybe that was part of it—but the real reason was to drown his sorrows. He knew he looked pathetic, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he could just start beating some random person to release all his pent-up frustration.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be so affected by this. He should have moved on by now, yet just seeing your face in his mind was enough to send him right back to square one.

From the corner of his eye, he saw someone sit down beside him, but he didn’t pay it any mind.

"Hi there," a voice said, and it was a voice he knew all too well. His eyes slowly shifted from the bottle of soju in front of him to you, sitting right next to him. He was speechless. Maybe he’d already had too much to drink.

"Don’t look at me like that. Is there something wrong with my face?" you said with a friendly smile. Too friendly.

“You…” Samuel breathed out.

“Me?” you asked casually, glancing down at the menu in your hand.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice gruff. “I’m with my friends,” you replied. With your friends, Samuel repeated silently in his head. Was the guy you were seeing here too? Is that why you were acting so composed while he sat there looking like a washed-up loser?

Samuel ran a hand through his messy hair, then reached for another bottle. “I’ll pay,” he suddenly said when he saw you about to order a drink. You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “If you say so,” you hummed, not passing up the opportunity.

Samuel’s thoughts were a mess. He couldn’t quite settle on what he wanted to say to you. It was like there were too many emotions swirling in his head, all fighting for dominance.

“…And what are you doing here?” you asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Just wanted to relax,” he replied. A half-truth.

“Didn’t know clubs were your thing,” you said, watching him down the rest of his drink.

“They’re not,” he responded bluntly. You noticed the sharpness in his tone and decided to drop it.

A few moments of silence passed before he finally asked, “So… what have you been up to?”

“You know, the usual,” you said as your drink arrived.

Samuel couldn’t help but look at you. His heart felt heavier with each glance. You both talked for a bit, exchanging stories about what had been going on in your lives. It was almost surreal, sitting here, talking like this after everything. "And what about that guy you're seeing? Is he with you tonight?" Samuel asked, trying to sound indifferent but not quite succeeding. You froze for a moment, awkwardly tracing the rim of your glass. "Oh… uh, no. He’s, um, busy," you mumbled.

Samuel stared ahead, but a smirk tugged at his lips. He knew that look, that tone—a sign of trouble. "Too busy for you?" he asked, tilting his head, testing the waters. You nodded, still focused on your glass, completely missing the way Samuel was watching you now, like a predator who had just spotted an opening.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with faux surprise. "That’s a shame. I thought you two were doing well."

You could hear the mockery in his voice. “Samuel—” you started.

"I had a feeling he wasn’t good enough for you," he interrupted, his eyes really meeting yours for the first time that night. "Don’t," you said, your voice carrying a warning that wasn’t as firm as you intended it to be.

Samuel leaned in, his hand lightly brushing against your arm before he gripped your wrist, pulling you closer. "Tell me I’m wrong," he challenged, his voice low. "Tell me you don’t miss me. Tell me you don’t miss us."

Your eyes flicked between his hand on your wrist and his face. You bit your lip, glancing elsewhere, unable to meet his intense gaze. "We broke up for a reason," you muttered, more as a reminder to yourself than to him. He grinned, leaning even closer until his lips were just inches from yours. "People make mistakes. Doesn’t mean we can’t fix them."

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him. There was hesitation in your eyes, but there was something else there too. Something dangerous. That same fire that once burned between you two was beginning to ignite again.

Samuel could see it in the way your eyes trailed over his features.

He leaned in even further, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can make you forget about him," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Just give me one night."

Your breath was shaky as you exhaled, and in that moment, he knew he had you. You didn’t say a word, but the way your fingers curled into his shirt and pulled him closer was all the confirmation he needed.

Just like that, you were lured in, caught in the hunter’s trap once again. 

But you could hardly care about that now, could you? Not when his tongue is tangled with yours in a passionate kiss. The bathroom is dark and, surprisingly, fragrant.

Samuel hoists you onto the counter, his hands sliding up your thighs, bunching your dress around your hips as he positions himself between your legs. His hands roam your body, alternating between groping and kneading, desperate to feel as much of you as he can. He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, sucking and leaving marks on your collarbone.

It’s as if he’s been starved of touch, and you’re the first to offer it to him. In a way, that’s exactly how it feels, considering how much he’s buried himself in work just to try and forget. “Missed you so much, princess,” he murmurs against your skin, continuing his descent.

He pulls down the front of your dress—along with your bra—to take one of your breasts into his mouth. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you sigh in pleasure, his mouth on one breast while he kneads the other. His hand slides down to your waist, tugging your underwear off in one swift motion.

Samuel pulls back for a moment, your hardened nipple glistening with saliva in the dim light. He drags you closer to the edge of the counter before dropping to his knees, pressing his face between your thighs. Your legs instinctively close around his head at the sudden rush of contact, and he pinches your thigh lightly in response. A gasp escapes your lips as he begins devouring you like a man starved. His thoughts are singular: He’s missed you, your taste, the way you feel, and the sound of your moans, even if they’re muffled by your hand.

“No one’s going to hear. Put your hand down,” he orders, his voice rough. It’s not a suggestion; it’s a command. But since when have you ever listened to him? You shake your head, and he rolls his eyes.

“Suit yourself,” he mutters before diving back in, tongue plunging into you. Flicking, sliding, and pressing that soft muscle against your core until your mind starts to blur. The room seems to fade into nothingness.

The only thing you’re aware of is the soft, warm slide of his tongue, the pressure he applies in just the right spots, and the ragged sound of his breathing as he loses himself in the moment. His hands grip your thighs firmly, grounding you, yet the way his mouth works against you sends your mind spinning, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Sammy—! Sammy, ’m gonna—” You choke out, teetering on the edge of release, your body trembling under the intensity. Your body arches involuntarily, your breath catching in your throat. A warmth floods through your veins, a mix of anticipation and inevitability as you teeter on the brink. Your hands grasp for anything—his hair, the countertop—desperately seeking an anchor as your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by sensation.

He doesn’t let up, continuing his relentless attack on your body. No, he plans to make you cum twice—maybe even three times—on his tongue before he even considers fucking you. And when he does, it won’t be in this tasteless club bathroom. Oh no. He’s going to take you home, or maybe to a nearby hotel, where he can have you all to himself.

This place isn’t worthy of what he has in mind.

The thing is, you’re still hesitant. Samuel would’ve let it slide—he would’ve—if he hadn’t caught the way you kept glancing at your boyfriend’s messages. Something in him snapped.

You were worried about that guy when Samuel was right there? Yeah, forget the nice guy act. He’s going to make sure you forget all about that boy tonight. He’ll make sure you’re so utterly consumed by him that you won’t even remember anyone else’s name but his.

“Eyes on the mirror,” he growls, his voice thick with authority as he grips your jaw, forcing your gaze forward. His fingers press against your cheek, making sure you watch—making sure you see. You can see yourself, spread so sinfully wide as he thrusts his cock into you.

Your knees are pulled back towards your chest, his strong arms wrapped securely around your thighs, his feet planted firmly on the bed. Your hands cling weakly to his strong arms as he pounds into you, every brutal thrust making your body tremble, tears forming in your eyes, and drool pooling at the corner of your lips.

“You’re drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he rasps, fingers pressing harder into your cheeks. “The nerve you’ve got—” Plap! “to still be texting—” Plap! “that guy, after what we did in that bathroom?” The wet slap of skin meeting skin punctuates each word, echoing through the room. “Didn’t mean to—jus’—ah! I wanted t’check my—” you sob, unable to finish your sentence. “Your notifications?” he spits out, finishing for you. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I know you’re still thinking about him.” His voice is venomous, and you can only shake your head in a weak attempt to deny it.

Irritation flares in him, and he goes harder, his pace relentless. You can’t do anything but moan and whimper, your nails digging into the inked skin of his forearms. The bed creaks beneath you as he takes you harder, faster, as if punishing you for daring to think of anyone but him. Each punishing thrust sends him deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again, the hard press of his hips making your whole body rock. 

“I’m gonna ruin this pussy for him,” he growls into your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as if to mark you, to brand you as his. “Fucking ruin it f’anyone. You’ll be mine. You hear me? All. Fucking. Mine.” His fingers release your face to give your clit a sharp slap, the line between pleasure and pain dissolves completely.

The sting sparks through you, making you whimper, but you can’t even register the pain anymore—not when the pleasure has you teetering on the edge of something overwhelming. The sound of your voice, broken and breathless as you cry out his name, drives him to push you closer to your breaking point

You can barely think, let alone speak. Only nodding in compliance, your body wracked with orgasm after orgasm, your walls spasming around him as you come undone again and again. 

Suddenly, the sound of a phone ringing cuts through the haze. Was it yours or Samuel’s? A quick glance tells you everything—it’s yours. Samuel’s eyes follow yours to see your boyfriend’s name flashing across the screen. His expression shifts from displeasure to something far more wicked, a twisted smirk spreading across his lips.

“Go on, answer it,” he whispers in your ear.

“But—” you try to protest, but one sharp look from him silences you. That look, the one that always makes heat pool between your legs. Reluctantly, you reach for your phone.

“Hello?” you manage to say, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. Samuel watches you, his possessive gaze locked on your face, savoring every second of your struggle. For a moment, he slows his thrusts, allowing you to speak—just long enough to give you a false sense of control. Then, with one brutal motion, he drives himself deeper into you, hitting that spot inside you that makes your mind go blank. 

You nearly choke on a gasp, but you stifle it with your hand. You glance at Samuel, only to be met with his smug, shit-eating grin. Another brutal thrust, and suddenly, he’s back to his relentless pace, dragging his cock in and out of you with such savage intensity that you can’t hold back anymore.

You bite down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks, your phone slipping from your grasp.

Samuel catches it effortlessly, pressing it to his ear. “Too bad you’re not here to see her like this. But don’t worry—I’m taking good care of her,” he taunts, his voice laced with a dark satisfaction. The panicked voice on the other end makes him chuckle before he ends the call, setting your phone to ‘do not disturb' and tossing it aside.

The night isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

[stargirllanaa]

୨⎯ “I don’t smoke”- R.C

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, heavy drinking, violence, mentions of drugs, mentions past d/v, Rafe’s a narcissist, emotional abuse

Summary: based on ‘I don’t smoke’ by Mitski (you don’t have to listen to understand but I still recommend. You drink to much and everything goes so wrong.

A/n ✎: surpriseeee, I was taking a break but got randomly motivated lol, thank you for 300 followers!!! Ily all sm! My inbox is open btw, also pls reblog and comment if you enojoyed!! Also I recommend listening to the song while reading!! Tyy

Wc: 2.8k

18+ minors dni!!!

As you took a long drag of your cigarette, you thought about your night, how you ended up on the balcony of the Cameron house with a tear-stained face and a cigarette in hand.

You never smoked except for after you and your boyfriend got into it; nicotine’s supposed to relieve stress and calm the nerves, right? I mean, you weren't addicted, just a stress relief.

It made you laugh how almost every fight with your boyfriend was so stupid, usually a misunderstanding or him taking out his anger for something that had nothing to do with you.

You questioned why you always stayed with him; how could you be so in love with someone who mistreated you?

You laughed to yourself, taking another drag of your cig before inhaling, the warm breeze making contact with your slightly damp face, reminding you of why you were even out here; the sad realization brought fresh tears to your eyes, and before you knew it you were bawling again, sitting on the ground, knees brought to your chest, sobbing into your lap.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ Earlier that night୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡

You and Rafe had ended up at a random party, some kook that Rafe knew from high school. Believe it or not, you enjoyed going to parties with Rafe. There was always an excuse to get as drunk and high as possible, and if you were faded enough, your thoughts would stop, and you finally felt at peace. It was honestly sad, but being in a relationship with Rafe, it was so hard to feel ok… to feel normal.

You guys had been at the party for about an hour, and you were already crossed, taking every drink offered to you in a heartbeat and even smoking with your boyfriend and his friends, but you could still feel, and you didn't like that, so you stumbled over to the drinks table, praying that there was at least enough left for a shot. Your vision was already spinning, and you were practically tripping over yourself, but you just wanted the pain in your heart to stop; that's it.

After what felt like a lifetime pushing through people and saying, ‘Excuse me,’ you finally made it. You reached for a bottle but didn't even read what it was; you were just desperate for anything. Your gut told you to stop drinking; you were nauseous, dizzy, felt heavy, and could barely walk straight, but your heart told you to keep going, so you did.

You poured yourself a shot, shaky, uncoordinated hands spilling a good amount on your fingers and the table. You drank the alcohol, tossing your head back as the bitter liquid made contact with your tongue before slightly burning the back of your throat. Your face scrunched up, looking around for a chaser but unable to find one.

As you stumbled around looking for your boyfriend, you bumped into at least five people, even causing one girl to spill her drink on herself; everything felt like it was going so fast yet so slow, and the world was spinning; you hated, but you loved this feeling, you were numb to your problems but also felt sick.

When you made eye contact with your boyfriend, he was sitting on the couch; you could barely make out the color of the sofa or who else was even on it; that's how fucked up you were.

You sat down next to him before even realizing what you were doing. You practically fell into him; before you knew it, you were lying on his shoulder and falling asleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

“Y/n!” you heard your boyfriend's voice echoing through your head before even opening your eyes; you kept them closed. You were still tired and wanted at least five more minutes of sleep.

“She's knocked out, man.” you heard another man who wasn't your boyfriend say, most likely one of his friends.

“Y/n!” Rafe shouted, now shaking you awake.

You were genuinely confused when you opened your eyes—three blurry figures standing before you. When your vision evened out, you saw Your boyfriend was staring at you with his fist clenched to the side, clearly angry, as his two friends stood beside him, but you were laying on Rafe, at least you thought you were, but when you lifted your head and looked to your side to see who you were laying on, it was some random guy.

You immediately jumped, scooting yourself away from the random blonde. You had never seen this man before, and when you layed next to him, you could have sworn he was your boyfriend.

You quickly stood up, still tired and still drunk. Your heart was beating rapidly, and the look on Rafe's face didn't help; he was arguing with the man you had been lying on; you heard the name ‘Evan’ slip from his mouth.

"What's your problem, man?" Evan questioned, his tone challenging; he kept his spot on the couch as you hid behind your boyfriend and his friends, still able to get a clear view of the altercation.

“I've seen the way you've looked at her before.” Your boyfriend drunkenly spat, referring to you; he talked with his hands aggressively. That was a bad sign, and it worried you; you just wanted to explain to him this was all an accident, a drunken mistake.

“Listen, man; Your girl was all over me.”

Evan replied, words laced with venom as he stood up from his spot on the couch.”Maybe control your bitch next time-”

Without another word, Rafe lunged forward, his fist connecting with Evan's jaw.

The force of the blow sent Evan stumbling backward, crashing into a nearby table, sending drinks flying in all directions, causing everybody around to stop and look.

Evan recovered quickly, launching himself at Rafe.

The two boys wrestled with each other; trading blows amidst the chaos of the party; a crowd formed around them as phones were being taken out to record.

You were horrified, wide eyes watching as Rafe pushed the other blonde to the floor before punching him repeatedly. You knew this was your fault, and you felt horrible. How could you have made such a big mistake?

Your tears spilled, and your hand covered your mouth as you watched Rafe's friend's topper and Kelce pull him away from the kook on the floor, finally separating them. Rafe looked so angry. He was breathing heavily, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, but when you looked at the bloody blonde on the floor, you gasped. You regretted even looking at him; blood covered his face as he rolled over slightly, coughing more blood up; you even heard someone mutter, “Call 911.”

When Rafe's friends finally let go of him, he didn't go back for more; he honestly seemed satisfied, and when he grabbed your wrist roughly, pulling you away from the now-dead party and to his truck, clearly trying to avoid the police you were honestly shocked, You had never witnessed rafe hurt someone that bad, I mean he was going crazy, you couldn’t get the image of Evans blood covered face out of your head. And the more you thought about it, the more grateful you were that Rafe had never caused that much harm to you. I mean, sometimes he would slap, chock, or grab you, but he had just shown you how much he was genuinely holding back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

You had finally arrived at Tanneyhill after what felt like hours of complete silence as Rafe dropped his friends off. He refused to talk to you, ignoring you as you tried to explain to him that it was an accident and that you were just really fucked up. You were still drunk, not as drunk as you were when you originally made the mistake, but drunk enough to keep trying to talk to Rafe.

The thing was that you would rather argue with Rafe than be ignored; you hated when he punished you with the silent treatment; it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry, and you also didn't know how long he would keep this going, sometimes it was days, sometimes it was hours, you would much rather him just hit you and get it over with.

“Why would you even bring me here if you're going to ignore me?” You questioned Rafe, voices pleading for a response as you found your place on his bed.

He didn't even look up at you; instead, he rolled his eyes as he focused on his phone, scrolling through whatever social media app he was on.

“Are you fucking serious?” You recklessly said as tears started to brim your eyes; his breathing halted for a moment at that. “I said it was an accident! What the fuck do you want me to do?” You choked out, throwing your hands up.

Rafe continued to ignore you, slightly laughing at something on his phone; he wanted you to feel as guilty as possible, and he knew making you sit in silence and think about what you did would be the best way to achieve that, so he had to be strong. He wanted so badly to respond and put you in your place, but he also knew you would prefer that to this.

“Rafe!” you shouted, wanting so desperately to be heard, but you got no response, not even a look in your direction.

“RAFE!” You repeated even louder this time, but still, he kept eye contact with his phone and ignored you; it made you so angry and sad, so many emotions you didn't want to feel. This was the fucking worst.

“I fucking can't.” You cried, tears blurring your vision as you left Rafe's room, slamming the door behind you as you made your way to the balcony. You grabbed your chest, trying to slow your fast and deep breathing, but you couldn't. Rafe was treating you like shit, and it was so frustrating.

The blonde didn't stop you from leaving his room; he knew your little routine and that you would return to his bed in at least ten minutes.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

The following day, you woke up to muffled yelling from outside Rafe's bedroom door; you didn't even remember falling asleep or returning to his room last night; your last memory was bawling on the balcony as the smell of your cigarette filled your nose.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes, noticing the pounding sensation throughout your head. You drank way too much last night, you thought to yourself before being brought back to reality by the muffled voices behind the door. Their voices were tense, filled with bitterness, and you couldn't help but feel a twitch of worry knotting in your stomach.

You glanced around the room, searching for clues or signs of what might have sparked the disagreement, but it was nothing new for Rafe to get into it with literally anyone.

The morning light filtered in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your familiar surroundings, but your attention remained fixed on the heated exchange just beyond the door. But before you could even form another thought, Rafe's bedroom door swung open and slammed closed behind him as he breathed in and out fast and placed his hands on his head.

You exited his bed, swinging your feet out from under his blankets before standing up and walking over to him. You just wanted to comfort him and try to make him feel better. Even though you and Rafe didn't necessarily get along all the time, he's still your boyfriend, and you didn't enjoy seeing someone you love so upset.

“Rafe.” you calmly mumbled, touching his back. “Calm down,” you said, rubbing it. You could tell he was still distraught by how he was breathing.

His breath was rapid, his jaw clenched, and his first balled to his side.

“Take some deep breaths.” you calmly mutter, still trying to calm him down, but you knew you had triggered something in him when you saw the way he turned to you, eyes narrowed and dark; you didn't understand why what you said upset him, but you knew that all his anger would now be directed towards you.

“Calm down?” Rafe repeated, tone harsh and aggressive. “Deep breaths?” he hissed, taking a step closer to you as you took one back.

“Do you hear yourself?” The kook tapped on his temples as he stared you down, jaw clenched as he leaned on his dresser.

“You sound just like Sarah.” he tisked as he crossed his arms.

You didn't know what to say, but at this point, you were on the other side of the room; you knew you were playing a dangerous game, even being in the same room as Rafe when he got like this.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Rafe? I-” You looked down before being cut off by the sound of glass hitting the floor after your boyfriend knocked over serval objects that were sitting on top of his dresser in one clean sweep.

You flinched, closing your eyes as the abrupt noise of objects breaking filled your ears. You were grateful he took his anger out on his random trinkets rather than you, but you couldn’t stop your breath from speeding up as you held your chest, trying to lower your anxiety.

“I want you to be fucking quiet for once.” Rafe fumed angrily, now stalking towards you. “I want you to stop getting shitfaced just to embarrass me.” he spat, referring to last night.

As he stalked towards you, you made a run for it, successfully reaching the other side of the room, but this pissed him off even more you could see the way his jaw clenched even from where you were standing.

“Yeah, because the whole world revolves around Rafe!” you sarcastically nodded with a fake smile. He was fucking delusional if he thought you would purposely get drunk just to fall asleep on another man and embarrass him.

He rolled his eyes in response, jaw ticking again.

“I'm at least happy you got your anger out on someone other than me last ni-” Your words were cut off by empty glass being thrown directly at your face; luckily, you dodged it, falling to the floor and covering your head immediately.

Thankfully, the glass was thick enough that it didn’t break. What the fuck. If that would have hit your face, Rafe could have fucking killed you. You didn't know how you went from trying to comfort your boyfriend to almost being killed by him so fast. He was so unpredictable it was scary, and since you were so lost in thought, you didn't realize he was now right in front of you.

“You know why I hurt you, don't you?” Rafe questioned, voice now calm… scarily calm as he kneeled in front of you, brushing a hand over your hair.

You didn't respond; you were shaking and now crying. You were too terrified to even look up at him, too scared of what was coming next.

“Look at me.” Rafe sneered before tightening his once soft grip on your hair and using it to pull your head back and make eye contact.

You groaned at the feeling, more tears falling from your face as the pain intensified every second. You regretted even trying to make him feel better in the first place. Fuck, you regretted even meeting him.

“You know why I hurt you, don't you?” Rafe questioned again. This time, his voice was harsher, and his eyes grew darker the longer you didn't respond, but you didn't care you weren't answering that stupid fucking question; Rafe had no excuse to hurt you no matter what you did, and you weren't about to validate his reasoning.

“This is exactly why.” Rafe scolded, grabbing more hair as his grip tightened further. You screamed out in pain, but he quickly covered your mouth with his other hand as he continued. “You’re disrespectful.” he critiqued as he spoke through his teeth.

You were sobbing into his hand, tears soaking his fingers as he looked down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. Rafe wanted to hurt you; Your boyfriend wanted you to feel exactly how he did when he entered his room in the first place.

“You’re kinda pathetic, you know.” Rafe looked you up and down, grip still tight on your hair.

“You're already crying, and I barely even touched you yet.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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[da-rulah]

Come Home to Me - Secondo x f!reader

Summary: No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with... 

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 10.3k (can I EVER write anything short?)

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST. jealous themes, themes of abandonment, poor childhood, mentions of alcohol addiction, domestic fights, anger, hurt, mild violence, bad break-up, description of panic attack, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex 

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

Secondo doesn't get anxious.  

At least, that's what people would think to look at him; the burly, scary, angry looking Papa who would practically glide through the hallways of the Ministry he headed. And to look at him now, today, people wouldn't suggest anxiety be the baseline emotion for him either. But it certainly was; masked by a particularly foul mood, but it was definitely anxiety.  

Because he'd just heard from his elder brother, that you were returning to the Ministry. 

It had been years since he'd seen you; he'd been a Cardinal then. He'd always been a hardened man, bitter from his childhood of neglect and abuse at the hands of his deadbeat father, but... you had been the softness to balance him out. Until he'd fucked that all up, as he was always destined to do. He always knew his fiery temper would fuck him over someday.  

And he'd been right.... 

8 Years Ago. 

"You can't go," he told you firmly, no hint at all that he was willing to compromise on this.  

"Secondo, please..." you tried to reason with him, "I have to! This is my job!"  

Secondo chewed on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as he looked down at his gloved fingers picking wool bobbles from his cassock. He stood awkwardly across from you in his quarters, letting you hover near the door as if you weren't welcome in here. The atmosphere felt cold, frosty even.  

"You know, it's really rather telling that you would rather go swanning off on some tiny little tour of Europe with mio fratello than stay by my side," he rages, "This new little project of his is bound to fail, you know. It did for our father, it will for him."  

Frankly, you were dumbfounded by the idea he thought you'd prefer to spend time with Primo than him. Of course you didn't, but you had no choice. Your job at Primo's side was an important one and not exactly negotiable. Secondo had never mentioned any form of jealousy before now, so why on earth would he bring that up if not just out of sheer spite? 

"Ah, your silence says all. You know what? Go. Go ahead. But do not expect me to wait for you, Sorella."  

"W-what... what do you mean?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.  

"You want to disappear for months on end with Primo? Fine. But I have needs, and I cannot be expected to wait for your return. I will not become some idiota with blue balls because his girlfriend is too busy fucking his fratello in another country."  

"You really think... what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you shrieked. How dare he. "Secondo, if you loved me at all you wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. And you'd trust me enough to know I would never!"  

Secondo scoffed, turning in his place and heading towards the small liquor cabinet he kept in the corner of the living space. He wrenched open the door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey along with a tumbler, and poured himself a small drink.  

You stood and watched him, tears now silently trickling from your eyes. You couldn't understand why he was reacting like this. You'd been happily in a relationship for almost ten years, celebrated so much together. But ever since he became a Cardinal, he'd been overworked, stretched thin by the clergy and reminded consistently that he was only second best to his eldest brother. Secondo by name, Secondo by nature, he had confided in you numerous times. He had a bitter side to him, you knew that. It had been present his entire life, a product of a neglectful childhood.  

But he'd never, not once, projected that side onto you. Until becoming a Cardinal, slowly imploding on himself at the weight of the pressure put on him.  

"It's one way to establish yourself, I'll give you that. Quicker than sleeping with a mere Cardinal, eh?" he chuckled, devoid of humour and instead laced with venom. Had he... really just insinuated that?  

"You don't mean that." 

"Do I not?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a vile smirk. He quickly necked the drink in his hand, hissing at the burn of it down his throat that he'd come to relish more and more lately. He was soon pouring himself another.  

"My job requires me on this tour. It's eight weeks, Secondo. That's all. Sister Imperator said-" 

You were interrupted by a sudden smash - Secondo had thrown his half full glass against the far wall of his living space. It splintered into shards, leaving a splatter against the fading wallpaper. You felt droplets of it hit your arm, a few splinters of glass reaching too without harm. You flinched naturally anyway, both at the sudden noise and the feeling on your skin.  

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IMPERATOR SAID! IF YOU LOVED ME AS YOU SAY YOU DO, YOU WOULD STAY WITH ME. BY MY SIDE. NOT HIS!" he screamed, storming towards you and grabbing your arms by your sides. You stiffened in fear - he'd never laid a hand on you before. "You say you love me, and yet, you abandon me."  

"N-no... I'm not-" you were shaking in his grasp, your eyes wide and words failing you.  

"If you go, I will never forgive you."  

You stared at him, your reddened eyes wide with fear and desperation. You were stuck... You had to go, you had no choice. Being fired from your job would mean the end of your residency at the Ministry and you would lose everything. But go, and you lose Secondo.  

He was overreacting, and you weren't sure why. Did he truly believe you were trying to sleep your way to a top seat within the clergy? Did he really think you'd run off with Primo, given the chance?  

"I... I love you..." you whimpered, voice shaking and quiet as your lip trembled. His piercing monochrome eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him you'd stay. But you couldn't. The Ghost Project needed you, and Primo needed you. You had no choice, but he couldn't see it that way.  

Without a word, he shoved you backwards, letting you stumble to keep your balance as he stepped back, picking up the open bottle of whiskey from where he'd left it.  

"Just go," he snarled, taking a drink from the bottle, before storming into his bedroom and slamming the door, your body jolting from the sound as you stood and broke down on the spot.  

Not going, you would lose everything. But going... you had lost him. 

Those eight weeks on the road were hell - and not the Hell you had been promised.  

Secondo hadn't spoken a word to you after you'd told him you were going. Your relationship was over the second he slammed that bedroom door. You spent any down time you had hiding from the world, crying into the last scrap of his clothing you had snuck from his things that still smelled like him.  

You would wonder constantly what had changed in him, why suddenly he couldn't see past his bitterness and had thought so little of you. He had ignored your phone calls, your letters... He had stewed in his anger and his growing alcohol dependency, buried his sorrows in anyone who would consent, and driven himself into the ground until his younger brother, Terzo, had decided enough was enough and harshly forced him to face his reality. 

But it was too late. 

As soon as you had come back from your first tour with The Ghost Project, you had put a request in for a transfer to an Abbey across the country. You had been hurt too badly, the thought of having to see Secondo in the halls, leading sermons, hosting seminars had burned in your chest. Primo had tried to talk you out of it, but your mind was made up and solidified only by the look of dismissal Secondo gave you when he'd seen your face for the first time during Mass.  

The grief you felt was not only for your relationship, but the man you once knew and loved so deeply. He wasn't him anymore; and you couldn't watch him live in indifference while you were so incredibly heartbroken.  

Within a week of your request, you were packed up and on a bus to a much smaller, more quaint Abbey in the midwest, where you would help to lead a congregation as a Sister of elevated importance.  

Over time, your wounds healed. You dated, albeit in brief stints. You devoted yourself to the church and rose in the ranks of your own volition - not because you had opened your legs to a Papa or higher ranking clergy member, as had been predicted by your former lover. 

You were doing well, focussed on you and your congregation.  

Secondo, however, had never been the same since you left. 

As if he wasn't already an angry and bitter man, he became insufferable in the years following your departure. Sure enough, Terzo's intervention had managed to quell the alcoholism, but it had done nothing for the anger that consistently simmered at surface level at his father, his brothers, his childhood... but mostly at himself.  

He'd never been able to forgive himself for the way he had treated you; the only good thing he had ever had in his life, and he managed to torture you slowly, like a child plucking the wings from a butterfly before delivering the final blow. Even when he'd seen you for the first time after the tour, he couldn't look you in the eye.  

Then he'd never seen you again.  

Now that Primo had told him you were coming back, your latest promotion to the highest ranking sibling beneath Sister Imperator herself bringing you back to the Ministry and the headquarters of the Satanic Church, he was petrified.  

He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Given the option, he'd abdicate from his position with immediate effect and live out the remainder of his days in a cabin in the Italian Apennines. But that wasn't an option, and he had to face this.  

He had to face you.  

Sister Imperator had called a meeting of the higher Clergy to welcome you back, and to explain your place in the Ministry to those you'd be working closely with. That included Papa Secondo.  

Papa.  

When you'd first heard that news, you couldn't help the small smile that had tugged at your lips. He'd always wanted that title, always deserved it. You were happy for him, glad to see that he was where he rightfully should be.  

But when you saw him for the first time in that meeting room, sat in his chair at the head of the table, that happiness had dissipated. Fear and dread had filled you, a pain in your chest you thought you'd got over long ago. But the scowl on his face told you the feelings he had toward you were still just anger, spite, bitterness. And no matter how much time you'd had to heal, that scar still pulsated and burned in you.  

You remained professional, hardened much like Imperator. You had to be. If you showed him how weak he still made you feel, your authority might be brought into question. You'd worked too hard for that. 

As the meeting adjourned, the table got up to leave and you along with it, until you heard his deep and commanding voice from the end of the table.  

"Sorella _______, I ask you stay for a moment."  

You froze, too frightened too look back at him, too weak to tell him no. Primo and Terzo, who had both been sat on the opposite side of the table to you, shared a look that read as 'oh, shit...' before their glares fell on their brother. Secondo ignored them, shooing the rest of the clergy out of the doors.  

Nobody said a word, simply leaving quickly and quietly until you were alone with Papa. 

A moment of silence passed between you both; Secondo had so much he wished to say to you, so many apologies and regrets he'd practised so often in the last eight years but they all vanished when your eyes fell on his. He saw the fear in them; it reminded him of that night. 

"I... It's... You look well." 

That was it? That was all he could say to you?  

You drew in a deep breath, allowing yourself a second of composure before clasping your hands together in front of you and masking your disappointment and hurt with a business-like demeanour. 

"As do you." 

"How have you been?" he asks, although it's cold and merely to fill a silence.  

"Busy. Yourself?" you mimic his tone; you'd rather be anywhere but here right now. 

"Troppo (me too)." 

You nodded. "Congratulations. 'Papa'... what you always wanted," you forced a smile, gesturing at the robes and mitre he adorned.  

"Ah, sí, sí..." he kicked at the titles at his feet, shuffling as he stared down at them awkwardly. "Sorella, I-" 

"It was good to see you, Papa," his head snapped up at the use of his title, it sounding foreign and wrong coming from you. "Now if you'll excuse me..." you dismissed yourself, bowing your head to him slightly and gathering your notebook and pen before making your way out of the meeting room. Secondo stared after you, lost with his apology he'd finally found and mustered up the courage to deliver still dangling from the tip of his tongue.  

Re-familiarising yourself with the Ministry's halls was hardly needed as you traipsed through them late into the evening. But that had just been an excuse...  

In fact, what you were truly doing was torturing yourself with the ghosts of a past life. It was as if you could see them, plain as day; the ghostly figures of a young and fresh faced Sister of Sin with a smile that beamed so bright, and of a young Bishop, his face free of deep set wrinkles and the permanent scowl the world knew today.  

They run through the halls ahead of you, hand in hand. Her laughter bounces from the stone walls as he tries to shush her, stifling his own laughs and the grin across his face. You followed them, chasing the memory through the halls.  

Rounding the corner, they stop outside of a door. The young Bishop pulls the Sister close to him, tumbling back into the doorframe with a thud and another string of stifled giggles. His palm caresses her cheek, a look of pure adoration in his mismatched eyes before he leans in, pressing his lips to hers as she melts into his embrace against the door.  

He reaches behind him, turning the doorknob and the two spectres disappear through the wood, the door remaining closed and leaving you alone in the empty corridor.  

You kept staring after them, tears heavy and building in your waterline. Your hands trembled at your sides, a nauseous feeling settling in your stomach as you remembered so clearly the night those ghosts ran through the halls together, spending their first night alone and in each other's arms in secret.  

From what you knew, he still lived in the same suite. The door you stared at still belonged to him, and the likelihood was he was in there right now. 

A part of you ached to talk to him. You wanted to know what had changed him all those years ago, still craving answers to questions long since forgotten. But part of you knew it was a conversation not worth having; after all, what good would it do now? 

Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the end hall, stomping on the stone as they drew closer. You ducked behind the corner, barely peeking from your hiding spot as Secondo drew closer to his quarters, that scowl still etched onto his face when he pulled his keys from a pocket beneath his robes. Before unlocking the door, he hesitated, pressing his forehead to the wood and shutting his eyes to take a deep breath. 

You allowed yourself a better view, peering out from the corner to take in the look of exhaustion, of sadness on his features as he leaned against his door. Pain seared through your chest, flashbacks of that exact expression from years ago flooding your memory, from times where the world would get on top of him and threaten to crush his shoulders with the weight they added.  

You were the only thing that could comfort him then. Nothing else would work – you wondered what he did these days to ease the ache. Little did you know, nothing could.  

He’d mask it well, yes, and attempt to bury it deep down beneath layers of a personality that wasn’t totally his, but the fact remained he was still just so sad beneath it all.  

Secondo straightened himself up with a deep breath, and pushed the key into the door turning to unlock it. You sighed quietly to yourself and turned to leave out of sight, but Secondo stiffened, his head whipping around to the corner where he caught the back of your head as you turned. He’d heard that sigh, known who it belonged to instantly.  

“________?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d have expected, like anything above a whisper would have you darting down the corridor never to be seen again.  

You froze in place, aware he can now see you but unable to move. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to run from him.  

“Wait, don’t... don’t go,” he whispered; something he wishes he’d said to you the day you’d left the Ministry instead of hiding in a pit of his own self-loathing and self-pity. He thinks you’re going to run; but you can’t. You’re just... stuck. 

He doesn’t know what to do, just staring at the back of your head as his heart rate raises and his breath quickens. He’s panicking; he knows that. He’d learned what a panic attack was in the days after you’d left the Ministry; like a heart attack.  

You heard him behind you, the sound of his panic as words failed him. Your head whipped around to see him stood there, clutching his robes over his chest as he stared wide eyed at you. You’d never seen him like this, and it frightened you.  

“S-Secondo? Are you... are you alright?” you asked, rushing to his side on instinct, yet stopping yourself just a few feet away from him with your hands outstretched. You weren’t sure if you should touch him, if you should cross the boundary that not only he, but you had put up so long ago. 

“C-can’t... can’t breathe...” he panted, leaning against the stone doorway and squeezing his eyes shut.  

Get him inside, make him comfortable, your inner voice told you. You looked to the side, seeing his keys still dangling in the lock and turned them for him, pushing open the door to an empty and cold apartment that sent such a wave of nostalgia through you it could have knocked you clean onto your ass. But you shook it off, reaching for Secondo’s shoulder and gently guiding him through the door.  

“Sit down,” you instructed softly, reaching for the light switch behind you, your arm working on muscle memory alone. You didn’t have to think about it, no time in the current predicament. Secondo stumbled to the couch, sitting down with a thump and leaning back into the pillows while you shut the door and made your way over to the kitchen.  

Reaching for the cupboard you knew had glasses in – nothing had been changed since the day you’d left – you picked one out to fill with water, then coming down to his level and kneel at his feet to remove any feel of intimidation standing before him would have brought.  

“Secondo, hey...” you caught his attention, his white eye opening to look at you through his lashes. “Can you sit up for me?”  

He took in a deep lungful of breath and sat himself upright, his forearms coming to rest on his knees as he hunched over. His breathing was erratic – some deep and long, some short and staccato. He was trying desperately to regain control, to not come across as weak in front of you but he feared you being in front of him was truly the reason he was so breathless.  

He always did used to say you took his breath away... 

“Here, drink.” You held up the glass in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes still wide and panicked. “Papa, please...” 

“Don’t... D-don't call... me that...” he told you, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired, mostly, between the panicked breaths. You chose not to argue for the time being.  

“I’m sorry... Still, drink. It'll help,” you promised, raising the glass again.  

He took it from you, gulping a third of the glass down and swallowing with a loud exhale. The irregular pattern calmed considerably, the cold of the water cooling the heat that had risen to his face and chest in his panic.  

“Good... See? It helps. Now just... breathe with me, okay? Copy what I do,” you told him, taking in a deep breath and counting to four in your head as you did so. He copied you, no questions asked, no arguments; just breathing in as you did. After four, you slowly began to exhale, counting to eight this time. He copied you again, his exhale a little shaky as if his lungs were clawing at his exhale, trying desperately to hold it in.  

You repeated the pattern a few times, holding eye contact the whole time. He seemed to be searching for something in your face, any hint of hatred, anger, resentment... but nothing. His panic eased when all he found was concern, and the same softness he remembered so fondly. Able to find no negativity in your expression, he could relax and give your breathing technique the room to work and calm him down.  

“Mi dispiace. I... I don’t know what came over me,” he says, embarrassment and sadness in his tone. He wanted to hide again, staring down at the glass in his hands instead of at you, sitting quietly and awkwardly on your knees in front of him.  

“No, it’s... fine. I’m just glad you’re alright,” you smile awkwardly, shuffling back and standing, dusting the non-existent dust from your knees. “I’ll see myself out,” you said, turning around to leave, “Just rest for the eveni-”  

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes focussed on the wall by the front door.  

The wallpaper had never been changed in all those years, the colour of the pattern worn and yet, there were small rips in the paper, tiny grooves carved into the wall and a very distinctive faded brown stain.  

Your eyes zeroed in on it immediately. It wasn’t particularly large, or even that dark against the wallpaper but you couldn’t help but notice, and your chest tightened. 

“Ah, I uh... have been meaning to redecorate,” Secondo chuckled from the couch behind you, with no humour at all. His tone was different to earlier that day in the meeting room; that cold indifference had vanished, as if the curtain had fallen and his mask had dropped. He was too weak to put up a front, too tired of playing the resentful scary Papa character. 

You turned to look at him, a slight look of pity mixed with something akin to longing that he tried to ignore for his own sanity. It would do him no good to delude himself into thinking you might have missed him as much as he had missed you in the last eight years. 

“But then... I suppose it served as a reminder,” he shrugs, averting your gaze and taking another sip of water where he sat.  

“Of what?” you asked, fragility to your voice. Secondo sighed, meeting your eyes again.  

“The biggest mistake I ever made.” 

An uncomfortable silence settled between you, his eyes watching you closely as you shuffled in your spot.  

“Do you... get panic attacks often?” you asked, trying to divert attention away from that conversation. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that just yet, if ever. Why cut into a healed scar? 

“Not anymore, but... I used to. After you left,” he said matter-of-fact, no hint of accusation at all. “It used to start as shortness of breath like this,” he waved his hand in the air to illustrate his point, “but eventually, I suppose, I had to learn to breathe without you.” 

Tears welled in your waterline, and you had to look down at the toes of your boots to flush them away.  

“I’m truly, so incredibly sorry, amore mio...” he whispered, willing you to look at him, to hear him finally say what he’s wanted to for years.  

“W-we don’t have to... do this...” you stuttered, holding back a sob as a tear fell to the floor where you stared at your feet. Hearing him call you that again... If you weren’t careful, it would consume you. Secondo didn’t miss your tear, his chest tightening when it hit the floor. 

“No, per favore... Let me say this, I need to get this out,” he begs, standing to move towards you, his hands outstretched like he wanted to take yours in them, to hold onto you as he apologised. You whipped your hands from in front of you and took several steps back. 

“That’s not fair,” you scolded, “you need to get this out? What, to clear your conscience? So you can feel better?” you accused. Your anger wasn’t unwarranted, he knew that. But he could see how much what he’d done had affected you – still affected you. The guilt ate him alive. It would always eat him alive, no matter how many times he apologised. 

“No, I just... I didn’t want to hurt you, I want to make it right!” he pleaded. You shook your head with a smile at his audacity. 

“Make it right? Now? After eight years?” you scoffed. 

“Well okay if I can’t make it right, just... bearable. Per favore, amore mio!” The nickname slipped from his lips without thought; it still felt natural to him. You were still his ‘love’ after all – you never stopped being that. But hearing it again for the second time that evening was like the venomous sting of a scorpion’s tail to your heart.  

“Stop calling me that, you lost that right,” you cried, having to bite your tongue from unleashing all of your anger, all of your hurt on him.  

“I... I know. Mi scusi...” he quietened his voice, looking down at his hands in shame. His shift in demeanour stunned you into silence, your chest heaving with uneven breaths as you calmed yourself from the point of near-eruption. “You should be angry at me.” 

You scoffed at his audacity. “Thank you for your permission,” you spat.  

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking up to meet your eyes finally. His looked strained, tired. Even disguised by the paint, he seemed weary and frail. “Can I say anything at all?” 

You mulled it over in your mind, running in circles. Was there anything he could say? Would you listen to anything right now, or were you too riled up to care about his excuses? The younger you, the you who loved him so deeply all those years ago was dying to get the answers she craved. She reached out to you from your past life, desperate for closure, just to understand no matter what those answers were. 

“You can tell me why.” 

Secondo’s brow furrowed. “W-why?”  

He seemed scared, like he hadn’t expected this but how could he not? What was the point in him apologising if neither he nor you knew why he was apologising, what his 'sorry’ was for? 

“Yes. Tell me why. Tell me why you suddenly thought so little of me, that you genuinely believed I would try to sleep my way to the top. Tell me why you were so adamant I was choosing your brother over you. Tell me why you turned into a bitter and twisted shell of the cardinal I adored. Tell me why you chose the bottle over me when you came home at night. Tell me why you ever doubted how completely, soul-destroyingly in-fucking-love with you I was!” you screamed at him, getting louder and louder with each passing syllable and pointing an accusatory finger at him as tears of rage freely flowed down your cheeks.  

“Because it was easier!” he yelled back, meeting your gaze, “It was easier than watching you leave with him! I was jealous, sí, because everybody always chose Primo. Ever since I became a Cardinal, I was told that was as far as I could go, that was it for me! Primo was the golden boy, he was Papa, he was going to find a wife, have a kid and that kid would be Papa and where would that leave me? Cast aside, again, as always! Fuck, even Terzo got more attention for his damn looks than I ever got for my hard work, my devotion!” 

You shrugged and stared at him incredulously as he yelled. “Why was any of that my fault?” you screeched. 

“B-because you... you were choosing him too!” his chest heaved, and for the first time ever you saw tears in his eyes too, glinting off the light of the room. “I needed you, ______. You were the only one who saw me for who I was, and you chose him too!” 

You tried to protest in anger, shaking your head and taking a step towards him to defend yourself but he continued before you got the chance. 

“Nihil... he always said I would never be Primo. But as Cardinal, I was expected to do everything for him. I lived in his shadow every... fucking... day. It drove me mad...” he looked up at the ceiling as he screamed through grit teeth, trying to let gravity defy the building tears, “And then Papa was to go on tour again, to bring back the Ghost project and perform for thousands of adoring followers and I was to sit here and wait for the only person I’ve ever loved to forget me and fall for him like the rest of the masses...” He was sobbing in anger now, forgetting the fight against the onslaught of waterworks and giving in to the pain he felt.  

“I never... I never thought you slept with him. Not really,” he admitted. “But I was told over and over it was only a matter of time... And I believed them. So, you ask me why? Because it was easier to believe you had already fallen under his spell and remove myself from the equation, than to watch it happen while I was still by your side.” 

You were stunned into silence, watching the man you believed for the last eight years had become void of emotion spill every single one he’d buried spill from him. He’d never told you any of this, not once expressed any resentment to his elder brother. And Nihil... you wanted to ring that old man’s neck. 

“I just... I got lost, amore. The more I drank, the worse it got. The bigger the disappointment,” he’d stopped shouting at you, his voice strained and quiet, “You started to hate me, and I took it as proof of my suspicions that you would someday leave. And then when you did...” his voice cracked, the words sticking in his throat. He sank to sit on the edge of the couch, defeated and weak. He removed his mitre and held his head in his hands, quietly sobbing with cloudy black tears from his makeup dripping to the floor. 

You stood awkwardly playing with your fingers, wiping your own tears away with the back of your hand as they fell. Your lip trembled holding back a breakdown. Now, you were beginning to understand the weight of the responsibility he’d bared back then, of the pain of his dismissal and rejection throughout his life. It still hurt you deeply that he couldn’t see past it to know you would never have chosen anyone over him – but at least you understood. 

“Terzo got me clean after you left,” he said, sniffling and raising his head but still unable to look you in the eye. Instead, his gaze focussed in on the corner of the room, at where the liquor cabinet used to sit. You followed his eyes and noticed it wasn’t there anymore, now an empty corner he’d never filled with anything else. “But it took a long time. I knew what I’d done, but... I didn’t want to face it. I’ve been so angry at myself, amore. Angry at everyone, but never at you.” He looked you in the eye then, “it was never your fault.” 

“No, non è vero, fottuto idiota, (no, it wasn’t, you fucking idiot,)” you seethed, taking a deep breath and shaking your head. Secondo chuckled humourlessly. Oh, how he’d missed you scolding him in Italian. 

“Sí, sí... fottuto idiota,” he sighed, dragging his palms down his face and smearing his tears with his paints. He looked down at his gloves, smeared with grey stains where the white mixed with the black, and he chuckled again. “Sono un disastro, no? (I am a mess, no?)” he said, holding his hands up briefly for you to see the mess before he removed both gloves, dropping them to the couch beside him. You scoffed again, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips; but you hid it from him, looking down at your feet again. “In more ways than one, I have always been a mess. But it was never your job to clean that mess up.” 

“Didn’t stop me from wanting to,” you told him. You looked up again, now that the almost-smile had faded, “I loved you more than you ever realised.” 

Secondo nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “My biggest regret is not seeing that at the time. I’ll never know love like that again...” 

You tilted your head to the side in pity, scanning the man before you who looked and sounded so much more broken than you could have imagined. You had no idea this was affecting him still to this day, no clue that the angry persona you’d left behind hadn’t just created a bitter old man who’d forgotten what he was bitter at – he was, in fact, bitter and angry toward himself. He’d never forgiven himself.  

But how could he? How could he ever forgive himself for what he’d put you through, for treating you like he did. He was disgusted by himself, but in true Emeritus fashion, he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions, and it spiralled out of control. This was his personality now, a figurehead to be terrified and intimidated by.  

You remembered how he could be though. Those figures you followed through the halls earlier that evening, that had guided you back to Secondo’s front door just when he’d needed you; they reminded you, however painfully, that there was a time when he was happy. Both of you were so happy. 

“Do you remember the first night I spent here?” you asked him after a few moments of silence, raising your arms to hug at yourself, enveloping yourself in a protective shield in case this train of thought went terribly awry and you needed your defences up.  

Secondo looked up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. You continued, giving yourself no time to back out of your train of thought, and no time for him to reply.  

“Sister Imperator had almost caught us in the gardens. We were making out, behind one of the bushes when we heard her heels on the cobbles...” you laughed. Your smile was so beautiful to him still, just like all those years ago when you’d met eighteen years ago. It infected him, tugging at the corners of his own lips as he smirked and let his mind wonder back to that night.  

“Sí, I had hair...” he chuckled.  

“We ran... we just, ran...” you sighed, smile widening as you took a small step towards him. “You dragged me through the halls until we stopped hearing her heels.” 

“The old bat could never have kept up with us.”  

“No...” you laughed. “You kept shushing me, as if you weren’t the one making me laugh.” 

“As much as I enjoyed your laughter, amore, you were going to blow our cover,” he teased. “I believe I had no choice but to silence you... if memory serves me.” His smile faltered as he remembered that kiss in his doorway, leading you inside his quarters for the first time, spending the night entangled in and bewitched by everything you.  

What would he give to kiss you again? What would he sacrifice for a chance to hold you in his arms one more time?  

Everything. Anything.  

“Eighteen years passed by so quickly,” you sighed. “I always thought I would spend the rest of my years with you...”  

“Sí... anche me... (yes... me too...) I took you for granted, amore mio- oh...” he caught himself, a sinking feeling in his chest, “Mi scusi... I must stop calling you that.” 

Guilt settled in your stomach for the way you’d scolded him for that earlier. Truthfully, you desperately wanted him to never stop calling you that. 

“You... you don’t have to... stop, I mean,” you stuttered, twiddling your fingers and avoiding his eyes. When you did look up at him through your lashes, you saw the look of confusion in his features, and the faint flicker of hope in his eyes.  

“But... I thought you said-?” 

“Y-yeah I did, I just... I was angry,” you shrugged, folding your arms protectively again, as if literally shielding your heart. 

“Are you not angry now?” he asked gingerly, gently ‘poking the bear’ as it were. 

“Yes... No... I am, but...” you stopped yourself, sighing and dropping your arms by your sides in exasperation. “I want to be. I want to be so angry at you. I want to hate you and scream at you. Hell, I’d punch you if I could but...” 

He stood then, taking a step forward. “But what, amore...?” You met his eyes, biting your lip as he took another small, yet significant, step towards you. Could you say it? Were you brave enough?  

“If I’m angry, it’s because I still care, isn’t it?” you asked rhetorically, “I’m angry because... because I still love you.”  

Time stood still for Secondo. His heart pounded in his ears, his chest tightening at the admission that you – sweet, wonderful you – still loved him, despite the hell he had put you through. 

He acted on impulse, no coherent thought process registering. Closing the distance between you, he pulled you to him by your waist, desperately pressing his lips to yours. As if you had expected it, you immediately melted in his hold, your eyes fading shut and lips encapsulating his in submission. You were tired of hating him, tired of being angry. Being honest with yourself, you had only ever wanted to be in his arms again since that night he told you to leave.  

Finally, here you were.  

His bare hands grasped at the fabric of your habit like he was clinging for life, dangling over a gorge only you could pull him up from. You felt much the same, your fists balled in his robes pulling him to you by his chest. Your lips fit together as they always had, moving in nostalgic synchronicity. You felt alive again, synapses in your brain firing in every which way and alighting the spark you’d let dim to nothing but an ember until now. 

Secondo pressed his forehead to yours when he parted from you, his eyes remaining shut while he coped with the racing of his heart. It wasn’t until he raised one of his hands to cup your cheek that he realised your cheeks were wet with fresh tears. 

“Amore...” he breathes, tickling your lips below his, “I have loved you every single day of the last eighteen years...” 

You don’t bother holding back the sob that jumps from your chest – you couldn’t if you tried. Secondo’s thumb swept over your cheek, wiping away the tears as he shushed you gently. Your fists, balled so tight in his robes, had started to shake as your bottom lip did.  

“I-I’m scared, Secondo... If I let you in again, I-I couldn’t... couldn’t handle losing you again,” you wept.  

“No, no no no amore mio, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Not again. Per favore, credimi... ti amo (Please, believe me... I love you,” he begged. 

“Sí, credo che tu, (yes, I believe you,)” you told him, your lips finding his once again and fists pulling him impossibly close to you. He huffed a sigh of relief into the kiss, his fingertips ghosting over your jawline gently despite the desperate nature of the act.  

You tilted your head to reach a more comfortable angle; one where you could run your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for progression. He submitted with no hesitation, allowing entry with a low hum from deep within his ribcage. The hand around your waist squeezed at your hip as your kiss deepened to desperation.  

Breathlessly you pulled apart from him. “This is where I’m supposed to be,” you told him firmly with a sob, slamming your fist to his chest, “this is home.” 

“Sí, amore,” he gripped your wrist, holding your fist tightly against him, “come home to me.” 

You crumbled then, your knees buckling as you wept into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving in to his own sobs as he held you upright. He pressed his lips to your forehead, peppering kisses across your face wherever he could reach until finally he found your lips once again.  

Truly, his arms did feel like home. You hadn’t felt so complete ever since the last time he’d held you, an emptiness you’d tried to fill with work and frivolous relationships but nothing and no one could ever fill the void he’d left. Now you were home, you wouldn’t dare let go again.  

You’d never kissed anybody so desperately in all your life, bruisingly desperate in fact. Your lips pressed and moulded together so hard, it was bordering on painful – yet nothing could have been more painful than the last eight years. No, you needed this. You needed him.  

“Take me to bed, Secondo...” you mumbled into his lips. Secondo stilled, his hands coming to sit at your waist and pushing you back; not even half a step away from him, yet you already missed the warmth of his chest along with the rhythmic thumping of his heart.  

“Amore, I don’t wish to rush you...” he spoke cautiously, his eyes scanning your face. “We don’t have to go there tonight...” 

There he was; for a split second, you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of the man you’d fallen in love with eighteen years ago... His paints vanished, his deep-set wrinkles smoothing out, his hair tucked and poking out from beneath his Bishop’s biretta. That same kindness, that care and cautiousness of the night he first brought you to his quarters...  

He’d said the same to you then, ever so chivalrous at all times but you knew then as you knew now – you were ready. You needed him. 

Slowly, you raised your palm to his cheek, noting the strange feeling of his paint-covered skin on your fingertips. You traced the lines where the white met the black, smudged together in places where his tears had streaked down his face. It amazed you how much the years had aged him, what the stress had done to him and yet, he was just as handsome to you as the day you’d met. 

“I think we’ve both waited long enough, caro,” you smiled, relishing in the way his brow softened, and his eyes glinted with happiness. He brought his hand to yours, holding it in place as he turned his head to press kisses to your palm. He laced his fingers with yours turning to the direction of his bedroom and leading the way. Once inside, Secondo took a step away from you.  

“Un momento, amore. There is something I must do...” he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, letting go before he stepped into the bathroom to the left. You could hear the faucet squeaking as he turned it, the unmistakable rush of water hitting the porcelain sink below. 

In his absence, you couldn’t help the way your gaze wondered as you remembered the details around you. The furniture remained unchanged but worn slightly with age, the shine of the dark wood not as prevalent as it had been. The bookshelf in the corner was still covered in tiny knick-knacks and ornaments, some of which you had bought him. One still sat on his nightstand; a small statue of Baphomet depicted as he traditionally was. On the other nightstand – the side that used to be yours – sat the same deep green glass vase you remembered, all the shine gone as it sat empty and covered in a layer of dust.  

That vase used to never sit empty, fresh flowers in it constantly. Secondo made a point of it, always replacing the flowers before they could wilt too much with different varieties all the time. He loved how it would make you smile, how you would bury your nose in the petals to smell the latest additions. Seeing it sat so sad and empty stung a little, but you understood.  

So enthralled in your journey down memory lane, you didn’t notice the end to the running water next door, nor the footsteps of the man coming to stand with his chest to your back as one arm snaked around your waist, the other tilting your chin up to look back at him so he could press his lips back to yours again.  

You turned in his arms, sinking into another slow and passionate kiss. When you raised your palms to his cheeks, you distinctly felt the smooth skin now void of the greasy and smeared paints. This was how you remembered him; not with the full skull paint and certainly not smeared with tears and despair. He removed his paints for that very reason. 

Secondo removed your veil from your head, letting your hair fall around your face in that beautiful way he always loved. Within seconds his fingers were threading their way through your roots while his other hand held you tightly to him by your hips. It was all too easy to lose yourself to his kiss, quickly becoming more needy as time ticked by.  

He made sure to move at your pace, though. It wasn’t until you started to undo his shirt buttons – his robe removed and folded in the bathroom moments ago already – that he even attempted to undo the zipper at the back of your habit. It wasn’t until you kicked off your boots that he did the same to his loafers. It wasn’t until your hands scrambled for the belt around his hips that he let it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. It wasn’t until he was stripped bare by your frantic hands that he allowed himself to unclasp your bra and drag it down your arms, followed by your panties that hit the floor with the rest of the hastily removed garments.  

He was too frightened you would startle easily, realise what you were doing and suddenly slap yourself with the reality that you still hadn’t forgiven him, and run off feeling embarrassed and angry. He needed to give you the space to run safely, if you needed to.  

But as you had already told him – you were going nowhere. He was certain of that now.  

Now completely exposed to each other, there was nowhere to hide. The warmth of his bare skin under your palms sent a thrill through your body, already responding to the way his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips as he kissed you with a new fervour.  

With your hands cradling his jawline, you stepped backwards, bringing him with you until you were able to sit on the edge of his bed, shuffling back while he crawled over you. It was too easy not to separate your kiss from each other, in tune with one another enough that you could move as one. You felt the pillows behind you, laying back and bringing him with you as he settled between your thighs.  

Already, you could feel him pressing against your core. You ached for him, desperate to have him. It was as if there were pulses of arousal flowing through your body and accumulating at your core, where heat had begun to pool.  

As much as Secondo wanted to dive in, to take you as he once had so many times, he knew this was not a moment to rush. Instead, he focussed his efforts on trailing his lips down your jawline, following the curves down your neck and collarbone as his palm kneaded at your breast opposite his mouth. Slowly, he savoured the velvet smoothness of your skin on his tongue, taking your nipple into his mouth while your back arched up into him in pleasure and anticipation.  

Secondo had missed these little noises you would make. The mewls and whimpers as he brought you to the brink of desperation; he adored them. If he himself hadn’t missed you the way he did, he could spend hours working you up to release. Another time though, perhaps. If you would want another... 

The hand that kneaded at your other breast snaked its way down between the two of you where his length was resting against you at the inner junction of your leg and hip. He allowed his fingertips to brush over himself only for a moment, before he dragged his middle finger through your glistening folds and circled your clit once, twice...  

You gasped under him, hips chasing the high and in turn grinding into his hardness which earned a deep moan from him against your breast. He could feel you were ready for more, drifting his finger to your entrance and starting with just one as he pushed inside, feeling your warmth envelope his digit. His cock twitched against you at the feel, like a silent plea to be buried inside you. All you could do was hold him against you, an arm around his waist and one around the back of his head forcing him flush against your body.  

From the way you rolled your hips against his finger that slowly but surely curled over and over inside you, Secondo knew you needed more, and so alongside his middle finger, he slid his ring finger too. The way he curled them both inside you had your eyes rolling back in your head – he always was good with his hands, and just as he could then, he could read you like an open book, reciting verses of pleasure and passion from your pages. 

He began to move them inside you, readying you for him. As the seconds ticked on, his need to sheath himself inside you grew increasingly hard to ignore, his hips grinding into you from above. His lips found yours again, abandoning your breast in his frenzy to be close to you.  

He overtook your senses; all you could do was see him, hear him, smell him, feel him, taste him. You decided in an instant that was all you wanted for the rest of eternity. Just him. 

You needed more of him, all of him, and so you lifted your legs from the mattress, spreading your thighs wider in a way of presenting yourself to him to hopefully, finally, fill you with more than just his fingers. Secondo growled against your lips, his resolve crumbling. His hand slipped from inside you and instead came to grip the back of your thigh, pressing it back to give him the room to easily slide his member through your folds, effortlessly catching his tip on your entrance so that slowly, maddeningly, he could push himself into you.  

For a moment, neither of you could focus on anything other than that feeling; of filling you, of being filled. Both of your jaws went slack, moans spilling from your lips and mingling in the millimetres between you. When Secondo was fully enveloped in your heat, his forehead met yours while he gathered some form of composure. He could feel his chest tightening, the wounds of the last eight years stitching themselves back up. He let out a sob through gritted teeth, and whilst you too were completely enthralled in the overwhelm of emotions, it was all you could do to console him in that moment. 

“I-I’m here, caro. I’m right here,” you reassured him, your fingers tracing patterns across the nape of his neck. He had to take several heavy, deep breaths that puffed his cheeks up on the exhale each time before he could even bare to look you in the eye. When he did, he found nothing but love in them, your irises swimming with it.  

“Ti amo, amore mio...” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. You smiled at him, such softness in your features as a prickle of tears glistened in your eyes.  

“I love you too, caro.” You always had. You pulled him to you for another kiss, quickly falling under his spell once again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him as his hips started to sluggishly roll against yours, dragging his length through your heat achingly slow. Both of you needed to savour that feeling, one you had missed out on for so long.  

As your tongues danced together, so too did your hips, meeting in the middle as the two of you picked up a comfortable pace, effortlessly working together to drag the groans and whimpers from the other.  

Neither of you were under any illusion that this would last particularly long, despite dragging it out to relish it at first. But the longer you stayed banded together, the harder it was not to give in to the pleasure, to that familiar heat coiling in both of your abdomens.  

Secondo squeezed the underside of your thigh as his cock twitched and kicked inside you, begging for a release he was trying too hard to stave off. Your walls fluttered around him, rippling and sending jolts of electricity through you. Your bodies worked together, keying into a frequency you had only ever been able to register together. Nothing and nobody else had ever come close to understanding either of you. It was the two of you; it was always supposed to be.  

“A-ah!” you cried against his lips, squeezing your eyes shut while your body dangled over the edge of a sensational orgasm. “S-Secondo...”  

“Ooh, say that again, amore. Let me hear you...” you asked, ready to let go at the sound of his name from your lips once more. 

With a few more thrusts you gathered the strength you needed, opening your eyes to meet his beautifully mismatched ones and holding his cheek as you moaned his name one more time for him. 

“Secondo...”   

That was it for him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, his cock spilling inside you and his thrusts becoming erratic. You could feel him inside you, length pulsing and warmth spreading that triggered an almighty break in your body, orgasm ripping its way through you. The shouts of pleasure the two of you made together sounded like a symphony to your ears, and the both of you gripped onto each other for dear life as if this were a dream, and you might wake up at any moment.  

But neither of you disappeared; no puffs of smoke, no fading into the darkness. You stayed in each other's arms, coming down form your highs and catching your breaths while the weight of the world seemed to drift from your shoulders. That baggage you’d been carrying for years, the pain and hurt... it didn’t exist in that moment.  

You weren’t kidding yourself into thinking that everything was perfect, and you could instantly go back to playing happy families with Secondo; not at all. But that moment? That was perfect. It offered you a relief of your woes that you’d needed for so long. And now, instead of bottling up your emotions, the two of you could begin to heal. Really heal.  

It would take a lot of work, probably some shaky moments; hell, maybe even some therapy for the both of you but for the first time in eight years, you felt peace.  

Home. This was home.  

A sliver of golden sunlight shifted slowly down the wall as the sun rose outside, pouring in between the curtains that hadn’t been drawn completely closed the night before. Eventually, it hit your eyes like a blindfold, waking you with a squint and a grumble as you flipped onto your other side to avoid it.  

The white spots in your vision cleared after a few moments, and you found yourself staring at a bed that wasn’t yours. At least, not anymore. It once had been, shared with the love of your life.  

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen, the sheets on his side wrinkled and haphazardly strewn aside. You sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and holding the deep green sheets against your bare body. Even the bathroom door was wide open, no sign of him at all.  

For a moment you almost convinced yourself last night had never happened, but even you couldn’t deny the evidence of being sat completely nude in Secondo’s bedroom. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about what had transpired. Maybe it was too much too soon.  

It wasn’t until you looked around at the room and your tired eyes fell upon your nightstand – or at least, the nightstand that was once yours – that you relaxed, a warmth spilling through your chest and raising goosebumps on your skin.  

Your vase shined in the sunlight, newly polished and casting a green imprint on the wall behind it. Inside it, a fresh bouquet of queen of the night tulips with splashes of white jasmine offsetting the deep purple. You could smell the jasmine from where you sat, a favourite scent of yours.  

Secondo regretted nothing of last night. He, much like you, saw that as your fresh start – as fresh as the bouquet before you. He felt the same relief as you did, the same hope for some kind of future together. 

Staring at the flowers, a smile spread over your lips you couldn’t contain. Part of you knew why that vase had sat untouched and empty since your departure. Secondo bringing it back to life again the moment you came back to him was all the reassurance you needed that you were welcomed home with open arms.  

“Primo will be angry when he sees the stalks in his garden,” Secondo chuckled, breaking the silence as he leaned against the doorframe looking devilishly handsome with his skull paint fresh and crisp, his black shirt tucked into his slacks and cinched with a belt. His arms were folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A smirk played on his face, enjoying the look of shock in your features when your head whipped around at his sudden voice. 

“You didn’t...” you scolded playfully.  

“Oh, I did amore...” he smiled, pushing off from the doorframe and coming to sit on the end of the bed in front of you. “Let him be mad. He will understand in time.” 

A comfortable silence settled over you as he lifted his hand to brush your bed hair from your cheek.  

“You were always most beautiful like this, dolcezza,” he spoke dreamily, taking you in in the morning sun, wrapped in his sheets with messed hair and a bare face. Your eyes fluttered shut, chasing the feeling of his fingertips. You let yourself enjoy the blissful silence for a moment, but one of you had to break it eventually. 

“We’ll need to work on this, Secondo. All that time... we can’t erase it in one night,” you told him, bringing your knees up to rest your arms and chin on shyly. 

“Sí, sí, quite right. It’s only a start, amore. I will prove things are different, te lo prometto (I promise).” 

“I don’t doubt you, my love,” you smiled, reaching out for his shirt collar and pulling him gently to meet your lips in a soft, gentle kiss to seal his promise.  

A promise you knew he would fight both heaven and hell to keep.  

Major thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading once again! There's no tag list for this one since this is a request from two people that got out of hand... I hope, dear anons, you enjoyed this!

[deareststurns]

'REGRET 2' - MATTHEW STURNIOLO

☆ pairing. Matthew Sturniolo × NLS! Reader (nate's little sister)

☆ summary. In which Matt took his best friends sisters virginity and can't seem to shake the guilt, so he wants to talk to her 3 weeks later not knowing he'd end up in her bed once again.

☆requested. Nope but a lot of you guys wanted it so here we are.

☆ warnings. Smut, Angst, arguing, P in V, choking, spanking, spit kink, pet names, degrading, praise, multiple positions, (i'll add more as i go)

☆ word count. 1.1k

☆ A/N. regret part 1 HERE

☆ A/N 2. THIS IS REPUBLISHED

3 weeks. 3 weeks since you got left on the side of the road and had to call your brother to come get you, 3 weeks since you last got yelled at and talked to the love of your life.

You didn’t tell Nate about what happened. It's already embarrassing enough, and it would be even worse if you did.

You've been an absolute wreck without him. He was one of your best friends that you trusted to take away your innocence.

Turns out it would just end in catastrophe, leading to you now lying in bed, hearing the person you've been craving but the one who makes your heart ache and his brothers in the living room of YOUR house, hanging out with YOUR brother.

All you can do is listen. What are you supposed to do in this situation for it not to be awkward?

Should you lure him in by making him see you?

Should you just ignore him? But if you ignore him it will be awkward even more because you see him all the time.

So, after much hard thinking and considering multiple situations and outcomes, you stand up open your bedroom door, and start walking down the hallway.

The closer you get to the kitchen the more emotional you get at the sound of his voice.

You didn't realize no matter how much he broke your heart, the more you missed him.

Your heart rapidly beating in your chest. The sound taking over your ears that being all you can hear the more steps you take.

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

Stepping into the kitchen heart still racing at the sight of him you feel eyes on your back. You know the stare. Matt.

You don't pay any attention, your back turned to him while you're getting a drink. But what they can't see is you have a little smirk on your face.

You get your drink and walk back to your room. Feeling a lot of better knowing you got Matts’ attention.

Before you enter your room you hear a, “imma go to the bathroom, I'll be back.” from Matt, making you smirk.

You leave the door cracked and sit on the bed and wait for him to come in.

Within a couple of seconds, you hear a slight knock on your door—exactly what you wanted. You don't know why, but it made you smile ear to ear.

“Can I come in.” You hear right behind your door. It’s a soft voice—A soft voice you are particularly familiar with. One that you have been yearning to hear since your fight a couple of weeks ago.

“Yeah come on in.” you exclaimed, eyes looking straight at the door.

You watched as he walked in, taking in how he looks for the first time in 3 weeks. Cheeks rosey, eyes hooded, and red plump lips that you've once had on yours.

You've missed him, no matter how he treated you last time you communicated.

“Soooo uh…” he rambles out.

“You can sit down, Matt.” you say patting your bed right next to you.

“Uh- okay,” he says.

“I think we need to talk, Matt.” you say, looking at him, his head down looking at his hands.

“Yeah I think we should too.” he exclaims. He looks up at you holding complete eye contact, “Look I didn’t know what to say when you told me you love me, I mean I just didn’t expect it to come out of your mouth.” He rambles on, stopping to take a breath.

“Well what’d you expect Matt? You think I asked you to fuck me for no reason.” you grumble, jaw starting to clench at his unawareness: you’ve given him so many signs and he didn’t realize?

“I’m sorry-” he gets cut off.

“No Matt, sorry doesn’t cut it. Don’t you realize you left me in the rain stranded all because you didn’t expect me to have feelings for you? God you’re so fucking stupid Matthew.” You snap at him, glaring right into his eyes, he can tell you’re angry.

“Quit the fucking attitude with me NLS.” he grumbles, tone getting groggier.

“Or what Matthew, what are you gonna do fuck me till I can’t talk, till I lose my voice, Huh?” you grumble.

With that he pushes you onto your back hovering over you, “You think I won’t?”

“You won’t.” you challenge looking up into his eyes.

He wasted no time sliding both of your clothes off. “I don't have enough time for foreplay baby we gotta make this quick.”

“I'm already wet.” you whimper out, just the affects of him switching up his act in a flick of a wrist has you aroused.

He slides in without warning causing you to moan loudly at the surprise, he puts his hand over your mouth thrusting in at a fast and rough pace. “Shhh baby don't want your brother or mine to here, do you?”

“Mhm,” your sound muffled by his hand.

“Such a fucking slut taking my cock and being so wet without even doing anything first. Poor baby is so hungry for this dick I deprived you for so long,” he said with faux sympathy.

You're already close in just that matter of time, Matt knows what to do with his dick and it shows.

“Gonna cum already baby, I feel you clenching so hard on my dick.”

You nod your head.

He reaches down and starts rubbing on your clit.

A circle of white forming around the base of his cock.

“Cum for me, whore.”

With that your eyes screw close, body starts to convulse; and you scream against Matt’a hand.

Your orgasm coats his cock, and after you come down from your orgasm he pulls out and finishes right on your stomach.

immediate guilt once again fulfills him. He shouldn't have done that again.

So that's why he immediately scatters to get clothes. Leaving you on the bed still all fucked out. “God, NLS what were we thinking that should’ve never happened.”

“What?”

“I shouldn't have fucked you again I'm sorry.” he says scattering out the room. You are still completely naked in your bed with his cum still covering your stomach. You have nothing to say he left you alone.

Little did you know in a couple years times you'd be laying in bed once again with his cum all over you. But that time it'd be after your wedding night.

[tokkiwrites]

┈─ 𖧷 Harvey Wallbanger 🥃

in which you're curious about how a classic harvey wallbanger tastes so you ask Joel, your dad's best friend, for a sip of his. he lets you try itㅡ in a not so conventional way.

★ ͘ dbf!joel miller, age gap, fem!reader, afab reader, no use of y/n, hair pulling, spit kink, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, kind of voyeurism, lots of pet names, lmk if i missed anything.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the backyard where the family gathering unfolded. The scent of barbecue lingered in the air, intermingling with the fragrant aroma of magnolia blossoms that adorned the edges of the patio. Strings of fairy lights twinkled overhead, adding a touch of magic to the evening. Mismatched lawn chairs and a weathered porch swing created a cozy seating area, where laughter and chatter filled the air. The wooden table, adorned with an array of homemade dishes, bore witness to the love poured into the get-together.

but that wasn't something you cared about right now.

Joel Miller, a man weathered by years and life's challenges, guarded his emotions behind a rough exteriorㅡㅡ at least that's what it seemed like.

You couldn't help but stare, unknowingly drawn towards him, as he conversed with your aunt. Family gatherings were a bittersweet affair; you resented his constant presence yet yearned for it, more than you cared to admit.

With a sip of the overly sweet virgin mojito, you suppressed a sigh, wondering if your dad had momentarily forgotten your age, given the drink he made for you. attention fixated on Joel, you observed the way your aunt touched his bicep; it sent a pang of jealousy through you. The effect he had on you was undeniable. You hated to admit it.

"Everything's alright, sweetheart?" Your dad's voice interrupted your envy-induced trance. "Huh?" You furrowed your brows, snapping back to reality. "Oh, uh... yeah, Dad. I'm just trying to get this drink down," you laughed nervously, swirling the cold glass around.

A knot tightened in your stomach. What if your dad sensed the unspoken tension between you and his best friend? you couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he knew the truth.

"What, you don't like my mojitos?"

"Dad, this is in no way a mojito." you laughed, settling the glass down onto the table next to you. "Well, you're still my little girl. I can't have you drinking alcohol now, can I?"

As you laughed off your dad's questionable mixology skills, your eyes inadvertently found Joel. His rugged silhouette stood against the backdrop of the setting sun. Why does he have to be so...him?

You didn't know much about the man, even though you grew up with him around all the timeㅡ you didn't know much. just knew how much you wanted him and how wrong it was.

On so many levels so wrong, yet you couldn't help but tremble as a wave of unspeakable thoughts had drowned your mind. Pressing your thighs together, you breathe heavily and decide to save yourself while you can, swiftly making your way inside the house.

No one seemed to notice. Almost.

"Now why'd you run off like that? the ping-pong game just started." His voice, a gravelly drawl, cut through the air.

fuck. he knows. he saw you stare at him the whole night, of course he knows.

turning around, you meet his gaze. he towered over the kitchen entrance, a small glass in his rough hands. Jesus christ. You force out a smile, voice hitching.

"Hi, Mr. Miller! we didn't get to talk tonight, huh?" You slowly back up towards the kitchen island. "Why are you inside?"

"Don't change the subject, darlin'. i saw you tonight..."

oh, fuck.

"sneaking in to steal some of your dad's alcohol." he laughs, pointing towards you. "now, i told your dad you ain't one to drink those kiddie things."

thank god.

you laugh in relief, throwing your hands up. "you got me!"

"yeah, all grown up now. need a grown-up drink, no?" His eyes lock onto yours, and you gulp down the lump in your throat. nodding your head, you reach to play with the hem of your dress. "what are you drinking?"

"oh, this? 's a Harvey, don't think you'll like it much. old man drink." the corners of his mouth lift up into a smile. "can i have some?" you pip. "i bet its better than what dad made me drink." laughing, you try and stare out the window, as to avert Joel's gaze.

"that so?" he hoarsed. oh my god, this motherfu-

he circled around you and made his way to the cabinet that housed your dad's most cherished whiskey. Joel settled his glass down, the amber liquid catching the warm glow of the kitchen lights.

"C'mere, girl." He motioned you over, a command that sent shivers down your spine, and you obeyed. There was a magnetic force in his presence, an unspoken poison in his voice that drew you closer. As you approached, you caught a hint of his cologne, a rugged scent that added to the intoxicating atmosphere. He could ask anything of you right now...you'd do it.

Joel poured a generous amount into a glass filled with ice, the sound of the liquid gliding against the crystal and echoing in the quiet kitchen. The air thickened with anticipation as he handed you the drink, the warmth of his rough fingers grazing yours.

"i-i'm kind of scared to try it now, honestly." you divert his gaze. "come on, now." he pushed closer to you, his scent enveloping you. joel grabs the glass from your hands, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. His other hand cupped your cheek, thumb pressing against your chin.

"open up." your eyes widened. did you hear that right? are you drunk? maybe that mojito wasn't virgin at all. "don't make me repeat myself, girl. "

you complied, uncertainty and excitement blending in the air. Joel tilted the glass, and the rich, hard whiskey slipped past his lips. Leaning down, palm still around your jaw, your breath caught as he slowly spat the liquid into your mouth.

his eyes never leave yours, and your heart feels like it could rip through your chest right now. Joel withdrew, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skinㅡ the taste of that forbidden sip plastered on your tongue.

The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and for a moment, time seemed suspended. As you caught your breath, Joel's expression remained unreadable.

"really think i couldn't see you starin' at me, angel?"

"I'm - so sorry, mr. Millerㅡㅡ"

"sweet girl. been dyin to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"dirty girl." a dark chuckle evades his throat "wonderin' how soaked that pussy is right now, hm?"

"mr. Miller, p-please..."

"so fuckin needy, i ain't even touched you yet." His voice, a husky murmur, resonated with a mixture of amusement and a raw need. his hot breath against you belied the intensity of the moment, leaving you yearning for more.

Desire hung thick in the air as Joel's hands lingered, teasing and exploring. Each touch ignited a fire within you, and the temptation between you two pulsed like a heartbeat faster than your own.

"Sure you want this, darlin?"" Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "So sure." This is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

at any moment someone could walk through that doorㅡ but you didn't care, couldn't care. not whilst joels tongue clashed against yours. your arms wrapped around his neck, his slipped down to your ass, squeezing it, prompting you to yelp into the kiss.

"wanna fuck you over this counter, baby. want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you moaned at his dirty words.

dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

you were too deep into it. Maybe it was the booze or his voice digging at your core. you barely realized when he turned you around, bending you over the kitchen counterㅡ The cold surface almost sizzled against your skin.

joel pressed himself against you, still clothed. fuck, he was huge. pulling your dress up and panties down, he traced his finger agains your dripping folds.

"fuckin hell, baby, all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

"'s all for y-ou, mr. Miller ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. " a fuckin dream 's what you are, girl. didn't know what i was missin all this time."

joel unbuckled his pants in a hurry, pulling them to the ground and positioning himself better behind you. he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough.

after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased.

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ a dream.

joel moves, at first, slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all like a big girl." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " you were hanging on that counter for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you.

he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you ass, his moves now more ragged.

"f-uck, baby ㅡ i gotta come. where, tell me where?"

"inㅡinside-"

"god, fuckin dammitㅡ" with that white ropes painted your velvet walls, causing you to reach your high also, squeezing joel in.

and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulled out, letting his seed drip down your thighs. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."

you sigh, of relief you didn't get caughtㅡㅡ or maybe of sadness because it was all over.

"let's get you cleaned up, huh? we're lucky your family takes ping-pong games so seriously." joel laughed, helping you up.

"mr. Miller?" you chirp.

"yeah, angel?"

"I really didn't like the Harvey."

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 guess whos baaack???? sorry for the extremely long time i was gone. uni drains me of all my powers. but i wrote this short 2k word story as an apology. dont forget to leave requests guys!!!! muahh i hope you like it.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hello hello (●’◡’●)ﾉ if i may, could i request a scenario with vash and reader in an established relationship? vash has saved a town and it's one of the few times where he's celebrated, everyone making merry at a bar. him and reader are getting to be sufficiently drunk and the reader has the sudden urge to spoil vash, resulting in them plopping themself onto his lap, cooing, petting his hair, tickling his chin and telling eeeeveryone what a big, strong man vash is. basically they're being gross and flirty and drunk together and it's silly 😔

i hope you're having a wonderful day!! 🩷🎀

"Everyone, I wanna propose a toast: To Vash the Stampede! For saving this town! And for saving my heart from loneliness! Here's to love and peace!"

"TO LOVE AND PEACE!"

"CHEERS TO VASH!"

"Thanks, Vash!!!"

"WOOOHOO!!"

"God bless the merry couple!"

As cheers rang around all throughout the bar, you stepped off the table and slumped back in your seat, a grin spreading from ear-to-ear. You took a lot of pride in having enough confidence to make that toast...and that you've achieved your goal of making your boyfriend blush redder than his coat.

Indeed, there were rare times where you and Vash could let your guards down when he's a wanted man. But after the heroic deeds he performed earlier in town, the people called for a celebration at the bar, not caring about the 60 billion dollar bounty on his head for once.

There were no lives lost, no major injuries, and the destruction was limited to a few shattered windows--thanks to the bandits and their shitty aiming skills.

After they got hauled off to jail, everyone at that point knew who Vash was, and invited you two and the rest of the group for some rounds.

While you were initially wary that it was some setup that would end in Vash running for his life and guns blazing, it thankfully became very much the opposite:

You and your friends having a grand old time, eating food and sharing drinks. By the time you made the toast, your boyfriend already had a buzz, indicated by the tie wrapped around his head and him retelling the story of today's events to you---even though you were there the entire time, witnessing them firsthand.

"That was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," Vash feigned a tiny sniffle, his arm pulling you closer to his side. "A toast..for me....V-Vash the Stampede..." His lips began trembling a bit, and you glanced at him, worried.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing..everything's great! How did I get so lucky??" Tears were quick to fall from his eyes, which he tried rubbing away before chugging more of his drink, looking to you with a sniffle. "You're so good to me, [y/n]..almost too good..you care so much and...you're the reason I believe in love and peace!"

"Awh, you're such a sap." You chuckled, forgetting that his emotions were dialed up to 11 at this point (then again, they were almost all the time). Reaching a hand up, you tousled with his spiky hair a bit. "You deserve this. We both needed this break."

"I know...can we toast just to us, mayfly?"

Without waiting for your response, he clinked his glass to yours. And you simply smiled back and took a big swig of your drink, feeling the alcohol burning your throat.

But you didn't care.

It was only a matter of time before it kicked into your system.

............

"Vaaaaaash!!"

"Yeeees?"

"Did I ever tell you..wha...what a good, strong, and handsome man you are?" You tilted your head, looking up into the puppy-dog eyes of your boyfriend, who was now just as wasted as you were at this moment.

It was fine, though. The twin suns will rise again tomorrow and it'll be just another day in Gunsmoke, on the run in the hot desert.

You could afford to let loose for one night.

"Yah really think so?"

"Oh, I know so...and I'm gonna tell everyone here allllllll about it. But first.." You moved out of your seat, and at first Vash assumed that you were trying to climb onto the table again to do another toast-

Until you instead climbed into his lap.

He froze up, a small squeak of surprise leaving his lips. Even now, he wasn't used to this kind of closeness..although he welcomed it nonetheless as you wrapped your arms around the tall man, noticing how red his face was turning.

"You're so cute when you make those noises. I wonder what other sounds I could extract outta you, hmm~?" As your index finger lightly tickled the area under his chin, he couldn't help but giggle, hugging you tightly to ensure you stayed on his lap.

He wouldn't mind being like this forever.

"C'monnnn, you're such a tease."

"And you're such a sweetheart. Always protecting me, preaching about love and peace...and not takin' shit from anybody. God, you're so hot for that. We need more men like you in the world."

"But you already got a man like me, mayfly..." He pouted.

"I know. Aren't I blessed? You damn angel." Laughing softly, your hand rose up to his cheek, and he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, as he crashed his lips into yours mere milliseconds later.

It was a sloppy kiss: long, messy and uncoordinated, hands becoming entangled in each other's hair....but that was quite alright.

He needed this. You needed this.

You couldn't help grinning as you overheard hollers and whistles from the other spectators, while your friends at the nearby table looked amused, grossed-out, and even a bit..embarrassed for you two. Yet they knew better than to interrupt.

Wolfwood, however, could only imagine the aftermath once the alcohol finally ran its course...

........

"M-My stomach still hurts--BLEAUUGH-!!"

"It's okay. Let it all out..I'm right here." Rubbing Vash's back up and down, you sheepishly looked to Wolfwood as your boyfriend was currently emptying the contents of his stomach into the bucket you've given him. "How has he not built up a tolerance to booze yet?"

"Beats me..but the misses didn't want him throwing up in the car. So let 'im stay there as long as he needs to." The priest brought a cigarette to his lips, a bit amused by the sight. "We'll be waitin' when you're both ready." He turned on his heel and headed back to where Meryl was filling the van's tank.

You sighed, only to hear Vash sigh even deeper as he finished puking his guts out. He looked up at you, wiping the saliva from his chin with a tired smile. "S-Sorry about this. Guess I had more than I could handle...again."

"That's okay." You took the bucket, pushing it somewhere out of both your sights. "I know you'd do the same for me."

"True, but with bedrest and medication...i-if we could find and afford it, obviously." His gaze flickered to the still-lively bar, frowning a bit. "Part of me's gonna miss this town..I doubt the next one will be just as inviting. But I gotta have some hope, right? There's a lot more good people out there, I know it."

"It's a big planet, so we'll see." You shrugged, grasping his hand and making his attention snap back to you. "I'll be sure to tell them how strong and handsome my darling Vash is, too~" With a wink, you had the man swooning again, as he shifted closer to you.

"You sure you're not drunk?" His eyes squinted with suspicion.

"Drunk or not, everything I say about you is true. And one day, I want you to believe those things about yourself."

"[Y/n]..."

"If anyone dares talk about your bounty, I'll tell them to shove it."

"I-I'd rather have you not-"

"Nobody--and I mean nobody--can put a price on your head. Not even 60 billion double dollars. Because you're worth everything to me."

"...a-are you flirting or trying to make me cry again?" Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. "Because it's working.."

You huffed lightly, smiling as you patted his cheek. "As long as those are happy tears, angel. You ready to go? You won't get carsick?"

"I won't!" Vash jumped to his feet the same time you stood up, still holding your hand as you led him to the van, following you like the loyal dog he was.

You're grateful the toast at the bar put him in good spirits...and that he was still blushing over your drunken kisses and words of affirmation.

Even though his own gut had to suffer the consequences for a little while, it was all worth it.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 69)

It seemed like the moment Tera got her fangs she became obsessed with using them.

It had been multiple weeks of wrangling her to let things go, to not utterly destroy every blanket, pillow, toy, or random chunks of metal she found. She was like a puppy, using her fangs as an extra hand to feel out the world with her mouth.

Both Uzi's and N's hands were covered in tiny bite marks, Tera would never truly try to bite either of them, but that didn't mean she didn't nibble and knaw at their hands whenever she got the chance, like love bites, only slightly more painful.

It didn't help that Uzi's mood was already on an extremely short emotional fuse. She was constantly tired, her back ached and she was utterly sick of getting sick. More was coming out of her then she was putting in, and yet she was still gaining weight.

Month two of her pregnancy was looking to be a worse rehash of month one, where she was decidedly less worried and emotionally vulnerable and much more pissed beyond measure.

V was also sticking around more.

It was weird.

They lived side by side, so they'd always seen quite a bit of her, even if it was only passing conversation as they went to and from wherever they were going. But now V was inviting herself over. Offering to help with Tera, or asking if she needed oil, or something to eat, or just… being considerate.

Uzi wasn't sure what exactly was going on with her. But V also refused to take no for an answer. So… she was just hanging around, mostly dozing off on the couch or lazily playing with Tera, who's favorite game was now ‘tug of war’.

“Are you gonna tell me why you suddenly want to be here? Or are you just going to keep me guessing?” Uzi finally asked after the third day that week V had miraculously gotten into the apartment without her knowledge.

“Nope.” V hummed back, the ‘p’ popping as she went back to playing with the newly energized solver kit, tugging on a rope toy made for dogs.

Despite V's normal antagonistic behavior, her presence was actually incredibly… welcome.

Taking care of Tera, doing the household chores. And trying to decipher what the hell was up with Doll, before had been no problem. Was starting to get a little difficult, in part because of Tera's new penchant for destruction, but her core felt heavy and sluggish, stuttering as it used quite a bit of power to combine her and N's code together. Her core was even lighter now, becoming a light shade of lavender instead of a deep violet.

And having someone around to help, even if Uzi couldn't decipher the reason why, was not something she was going to complain about.

At this very moment though, she was washing bottles in preparation to refill them, while also replacing the rubber caps, as now they were full of bite marks and rips.

“Sooo where do you get the oil?” V asked, for the first time genuine curiosity in her voice. And Uzi didn't even turn around to answer as she scrubbed the inside of another bottle.

“Uh… the nursery?”

“No. Not the oil you drink, the oil she drinks. N was saying something about her oil needing to be filtered or, whatever.”

“Me?”

“… Do you like… prick yourself?”

“What? No. I have a side pannel that opens… did you not know?” Now Uzi turned to look at her, finding her holding Tera up in the air with one hand, away from the rope toy.

“No. Why should I know? I didn't pay too much attention to who I was killing.” V always had the tone like she didn't care or wasn't interested, but it really wasn't fooling Uzi anymore, if V truly wasn't interested, she wouldn't have asked.

“Yup. Every worker drone has a side panel, has a oil port, a charge port, everything we need to take care of kids. N doesn't have one, we checked. So you probably don't either.” She explained, thankful that it's the last time she'd have to explain this.

“Huh.”

Then there was silence again, Uzi trying to get a particularly stubborn stain off a bottle and going to town at it, growling slightly as if that would help scare it away.

When her head suddenly felt like lead.

She leaned over the sink as the feeling of extreme dizziness washed over her, her core skipping beats as her vison went blurry and her hearing faded into muffled sounds.

She dropped the bottle and it clattered against the floor, bouncing away on the tile. And gripped the side of the sink, feeling herself becoming unsteady as her legs wobbled and her stomach turned exactly once.

Then she began to fall to the side, unable to keep her balance, vison blinking out, bracing to hit the hard floor with what little withering control she had over her body.

Only she never did, something had caught her halfway down, cradling her gently and purring softly, she almost thought it was N, with how gentle they were, but he wouldn't be home for a couple more hours.

When her head stopped spinning and her core went back to its normal tempo, the first thing she felt was the plush texture of the couch, not the cold tile of the floor. And the feeling of a warm hand on her forehead.

And when her eyelights opened, she realized it was V. Holding her head to check her temperature.

What. The Fuck.

“V?”

“Oh good, you're fine.” She immediately removed her hand, but still hovering over her as V looked down at her, looking as blasé as ever.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“Why are you complaining?” V quipped back, putting a hand in her hip as Uzi sat up, and shook the lead from her head.

Uzi sighed, grumbling as she truly, honestly, did not have the energy to argue with V over her weirdness, but she guessed she shouldn't complain, as he had just been saved from hitting the floor.

“Oh whatever, thanks for catching me… I guess.” Uzi went to get back up, but V pushed her back into the couch with a decent amount of force, dropping Tera into Uzi's lap before walking over to the sink herself.

“Mmmhm.” Was all V said, before beginning to finish cleaning out the bottles herself.

With another long-suffering, confused sigh, Uzi took V's previous position of playing tug of war with Tera, letting V do whatever the hell she wanted.

Next->

[reotheworld]

bllk characters with an idol!femreader, this has been in buried in the back of my mind lately

everyone is falling for her

❝ shivering, trembling, i want to follow her ❞

➜ bllk boys dating a jpop idol | ft. baro, chigiri, rin, niko

➜ fem!reader

sugar level: 0% & 70%

The moment you two are dating, BARO doesn't even bother and try to hide it. He doesn't care what the public thinks, so why should he hide his love for you? He doesn't care if your dislike him for you, he really doesn't care because as long as he is with you that's all it matters.

The people are just left wondering how you, so soft and cute and pretty on stage be dating someone like Baro who is rough and merciless on the field.

Watchful and hidden cameras always follow yours and his movements, photos of you two entering and leaving restaurants, holding hands and getting into a car inside the parking lot frequent every social media platform.

He knows that your schedules don't often match with each others, but if you come to one of his games while wearing one of his jerseys, he'd be over the moon.

Visual couple. That's what your fans dub you and CHIGIRI the moment the dating news rolled out. How can you two be so pretty? Like wow.

Every time your name is mentioned on interviews, he can't contain the smile that wants to break out of his lips. Your name alone has that effect on him.

If you're in a girl group, he has a good relationship with your other members, even maintaining it. On days he'd drop by to your dorm, he doesn't forget to give them snacks nor forget to greet your manager too.

If you're a soloist, he politely greets the people who work for you - hair and make up artist, road manager, personal assistant and the likes.

Even though it's game season, he doesn't forget to promote your song; putting it on his ig story or taking a screenshot of him streaming it or the music video!

The world was never the same when RIN's manager and your company confirmed the dating news.

It happened so suddenly, it wasn't Rin's intention to hide his love for you in the dark nor a secret, but the amount of hate you were receiving from his so called fans were getting out of hand. And in order to get it under control, he had his manager cooperate with your company to do a legal action against those people who maliciously spread rumors about you online.

He's distant and emotionless when it comes to photoshoots but if he's with you, he'll grace the cameras with some emotion from him.

"I didn't know you could smile, Rin!"

"Shut it."

Doesn't even care if there are thousands of cameras around you two, if he wants to get comfort from you, then he's getting his comfort from you.

NIKO often takes candid pictures of you with his phone. And what does he do with them? He creates new memes! Claims he's helping your fans by creating new memes for them to use.

When it's off season, you can bet that Niko is everywhere with you, being your biggest support system.

Performing your comeback song in a music show? He's in your dressing room with a lightstick in hand. Your song won in a music program? He has the biggest smile on his face as he cheers for you. Doing a v live (rip)? He's behind you, cutely waving at the camera.

Often comes into the practice room with food and drinks. He knows how much effort you put into the choreography and giving life to your performance. If you plan to stay up until the wee hours to practice, then he'll stay with you.

[eunoiaaaivy]

PREMIUM ECONOMY: A TRIP TO LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA WITH KAGAMI TAIGA! @vespersposts

╰┈➤thank you for visiting eunoia airlines! ah! another great trip for the lovable you! enjoy this trip with your love one as you roam around la with them! we hope you'll enjoy this trip and come back again!

songs to listen to: i. ii. iii. iv. v.

WARNING!! THIS CONTAINS SUGGESTIVE CONTENT, BEWARE I DON'T WRITE SMUT. JUST SUGGESTIVE FICS, AND THIS IS ONE SUGGESTIVE FIC. I HAVE CONSENT POSTING THIS FROM MY BEST FRIEND. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

D IS FOR DANGEROUS

cw: a bit suggestive, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, a tinge of jealousy, mentions of insecurities, fluff, pet names (doll, love, baby, babe.)

a/n: IM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAYED POST, MY MENTAL WAS JUST NOT IN THE RIGHT PLACE TO WRITE. IT WENT LIKE THIS 📈📉📈📉📈📉📈📉📉📉📈📉📈😭😭😭😭😭

kagami sipped on his wine glass, the taste gliding along his tongue. he felt the way it burned his throat a bit but his gaze was only focused on one person. you.

rather it was the person you're talking to.

you both went to los angeles for his game that was a few days away, and a concert of the arctic monkeys the week after. not this.

you were chattering all and about, yet he could feel the way his nerves were irking as he gripped the wine glass tighter. kagami burnt holes on the back of the man's head, somewhere within himself denying what he was feeling. jealousy.

he knew it was a contagious disease but he couldn't help it. why would he when kagami had you?

the booming music through this small bar-club typa building didn't even help at all. he could see from a few meters away his teammates, aomine with his girl, akaashi inspecting his surroundings, midorima sipping his drink with a distasteful look, murasikabara not having a care in the world as he was chewing the cherry and kuroko trying to stop kise from chugging down another drink. then he sees you.

talking to a man.

you suddenly came in to his life and stole his heart.

he had you, and you had him. your fingers wrapped around each other as your feelings were confessed on that night before.

kagami feels special as he looks at you, you were chortling and he couldn't even care about the man.

it made him feel special at the thought that you chose him out of everyone.

he felt so lucky, as if he just won a lottery prize as you cheer for him at his game, making him attain victory. he never knew were it started but you were the very person he needed.

the woman he loves who was the brightest star in his universe, a trophy that nobody has but him. to kagami, you were the river flowing down in a slow steady ocean in amsterdam. to kagami, you were the very air he breathes. the one who steadies him on the ground as the world crumbles behind him. you were his home.

kagami believed that love was an emotion that was passionate, something that everybody has to wait for. but when he looks at you, he can't help but be proud of the way he suddenly confessed his feelings back then. (albeit embarrassing to him.)

he could still remember the way your lips first felt like against his, hovering as if there's no tomorrow. kagami could still remember the way you wrapped him around your finger, forever stealing his heart as he did with yours.

it felt like yesterday, when the both of you were walking and he suddenly had the urge to clasped his hands around your much smaller ones. the beating of his heart against his ribcage and the clammy feeling of his hands wasn't something he'd forget. ever.

it already was embedded in his head the moment your delicate hands were wrapped around his calloused ones.

kagami could never forget this feeling. he will never forget the way he would get all jittery and nervous with the way you smile at him, or with the way you reserved a soft spot in your heart for him. like the way you did with yours, he had an even more softer spot for you.

anyone could see his gaze, kuroko was really wet from the rain yet he offered you his umbrella, leaving his light-blue haired partner sneezing the next day.

kagami could feel this feeling wouldn't fade. it was like you were his very memory his brain muscle can never forget, maybe like a broken record replaying over and over in his head.

it was no lie that you were really beautiful, yet a mystery to everyone. they couldn't fathom what was so different about you. they were intimidated with the way you gaze at them, yet the red hair saw nothing so different.

you were so perfect in his eyes.

everything, every moment and every second spent with you feels like time is slowing down. the laugh, the smiles, the echos of it all- you slow down time.

kagami could feel it, he feels like a kid- the happiness, the innocent touches, and the adrenaline rush. everything about it was so special to him.

it was like butterflies were the things he ate in the morning as he hears your laugh, even when his joke was so unfunny.

love consumed him. everybody could tell.

but what do they know?

do they know how you brighten up his day and make him so fuzzy? does everyone know that you make kagami so weak in the knees for you as you whisper sweet-nothings in to his ear as the monsters of insecurities come back crawling to him? would everyone know that your lips against kagami felt so right to him? that it felt so good?

you're the blood running along his veins, the pulse through his life. the heart his yearns for and has, and the way it pumped out with so much adrenaline and blood filling up his body. you're the seratonin that makes him much more happier and much more lively.

you were the adrenaline that rushed across his whole body as he plays basketball and he could hear, see you in the stands cheering wearing his jersey on. you were the the iron streaming along his blood. the one that functioned his heart beat everyday.

oh gosh, no dopamine swarming in his head can conquer his happy days with you.

and it makes him warm and fuzzy that you chose him. out of everyone. you could've chosen somebody rich and more good looking than him. somebody more who has self-control and discipline. but it goes all away out the window as you tell him "i love you and only you."

it feels like he won the lottery ticket that can conquer all his bills. yet he knows this isn't just a lottery ticket he won.

to kagami, you were much more than that. you were worth everything.

kagami could feel his jaw slacking as he sees you smile at the man. you know he's looking, yet you were teasing him with this.

clearly, you had no likes for the man. the wedding ring against your ring finger says so.

kagami knows your his. and only his.

but this man was no ordinary man, he could see the way this random man was looking you up and down. he even ignored kagami's presence when he walked up to you and dragged you away from where you were!

having enough of teasing the love of your life, you sauntered your way over to him with a smirk he's all too familiar with. that teasing smile of yours only pumping him up.

making your way to him, you let out a short chuckle with the way his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, wine long forgotten as he placed it on the side. he lowers his face to the crook of your neck where he could feel your pulse surging as he placed a lazy kiss over it, making you gulp and sigh from the sensation.

" were ya teasing me back there doll?" kagami mutters out lowly, face nearing below your collarbone. "if you're trying to make me jealous then it's working. you win the game now." his voice on your collarbone sent vibrations throughout your whole body as he placed another even more lazy kiss.

carding your way through his red tussles of hair, you chuckled at his admit of defeat, making him groan even more as his body came back to his full height. "aww, is my poor taiga jealous?" you teased out as you sent him a wide grin, only to receive a low growl from him.

"ofcourse i am, did you see the way he was looking at you? it was like he was a predator! i was ready to come swoop you out there!" taiga whisper-shouted in your ear as the grin on your face only widened.

"aw, but you know im only yours right?" you muttered out near his lips as your arms wrapped around his neck pulled him down to your height. breath fanning over his, making him groan lowly against your lips as you didn't make the move kissing him.

kagami's hand immediately went to the base of your neck, pushing it forward as your lips crashed on his. the kiss was sweet at first, which quickly turned passionate as he pulled you closer, hands around his neck as he circles small shapes at your sides.

kagami let's out a small groan as he feels you tug his crimson tussles, hands on your waist tightened more if that was even possible. you feel yourself move, kiss not breaking yet even when your back collided with the wall.

his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, biting it as you let out an incoherent sound. the loud sound of music filled both your ears but you didn't care as you tasted the wine he drank from before, you could feel his body all over yours.

taiga was so warm, like this kiss you were sharing. his hands being placed next to your head to the wall as his whole figure covered you from the view of the man you were talking to- paying him no mind.

your lover gave you no space to breathe as he pulled away but as immediately as he pulled away, he kissed you again. it was dangerous game to play like this with kagami-the jealousy of this man was really contagious.

but you loved the sensation he sent through your body as he places a few wet kisses on your jaw, making you sigh from the sensation as he lowered himself up to your neck to press more fervent kisses there before staring up at you.

"i wonder what goes through your mind, doll." taiga started as he finally went up to his full height. his red eyes stared at yours, eyeing you as if you were a prey as you stared back at him.

you hummed out as his hands went back to your waist, circling shapes around it as your hands were still wrapped around him. "you know how to rile me up. do you always have to do that so that you could get a big kiss from me? you could just ask me, you know?" he curiously asked, music so loud.

He knew what he wanted to say

But he didn't know how to word it

The dirty little Herbert was seeking an escape

The guiltiness that started

Soon as the other part had stopped

you smirked up at him, a glint in your eyes as you stared at him through your lashes. "baby what's the fun in that? plus you look hot when you're aggressive." you said out to him as he growled once more, tugging your waist as he lowered his face near your face again.

D is for delightful

And try and keep your trousers on

I think you should know you're his favourite worst nightmare

"if you wanted that then you could've said so, baby." kagami said so lowly near your ear, breath fanning over you ear lobe, making your face flush as he places his head on your shoulder.

you could feel taiga chuckle against your skin as it sent vibrations throughout your whole body, leaving you speechless. "speechless right now babe? im sure that man would've loved to hear more words from your mouth." he added as you groaned, face flushing as you buried your face on his toned chest.

"stop teasing taiga!" you squeaked out, face still flushed against his chest as kagami chuckled more. "but you did that to me, love. one can play the game too." he muttered out as you looked at him, cheeks coated with tinges of pink. kagami's smirk grew wider as he saw your face. victory.

"okay fine. you win!" you blurted out as he laughed, the sound making the flowers bloom once more in your chest. "that's what i thought. never knew los angeles was going to be fun this season!" he laughed out again, you soon joining as he left a small peck on your forehead.

los angeles was indeed fun this season.

and so was the kiss you shared with kagami.

d was really for dangerous.

you couldn't wait for more.

[moonsgemini]

seeking arrangements- v

summary: Rafe feels regret in the pit of his stomach and knows he needs to lay it all out in order to get the girl back. His honesty leads to romantic moments, vengeful exes, and pinot on the beach.

warnings: angst, fluff, 18+, kissing, very suggestive language, thomas, toxic families, bad moms, cursing, escort!rafe

wc: 3.9k

an: one more part left!!! I’m sorry but I dislike conflict soooo much so I try not to write too much of it lol. I hope you guys enjoyed <3 I honestly kinda hate it & feel like it's all over the place but I also like it ????

series masterlist - previous part

Rafe was going crazy. For the last week he had been living off of Lola’s attention. He wished he could go back to when he was picking her up at the bar and she was all over him. That moment between them felt so real. Like they weren't doing it to convince anyone of anything. The truth is it was how Lola felt. She wanted it to feel real like that all the time. That's why she thought he also maybe wanted something more.

He was so good at being independent and keeping his feelings out of these things. Rafe didn’t expect this doe eyed girl to completely turn his world upside down. His feelings for her were starting to be all consuming, even in his sleep he was dreaming about her. Rafe just hoped being honest with her would help him earn forgiveness and her trust again.

When he woke up the next morning she was already downstairs having an early coffee with her dad. Rafe played the part of a good boyfriend and went over to kiss her on the head good morning. He felt her stiffen as he did so. Even more confirmation that he had royally screwed up. The tension between them didn't seem palpable, but to Lola the air felt thick.

Even if things seemed fine she didn’t want to risk her dad suspecting anything was wrong so she just gave Rafe a soft smile. Not looking at him for too long or her brain would turn to mush and she’d forget why she was upset. They barely spoke a word to each other while they got ready for family brunch. Lola doing her best to ignore his presence. Tried to ignore the smell of his cologne and the droplets of water on his chest when he walked out of the shower with just a towel around his waist. He was torturing her in every way.

She felt like a complete loser. He had rejected her advances and then had insinuated that she was nothing more than another client. It was clear to her now that she had probably made Rafe so miserable that he was choosing to retire and find someone to settle down with. Lola felt humiliated. The first guy she opens up to since Thomas and he breaks her heart almost just the same.

Lola had thought he felt the same because of how nice he was to her. He also stood up for her and was attentive of her. No one has done that, not without her giving 110% of herself first. She felt carefree around him.

Now they were sat next to each other with all her family around and the bridal party. They had hired someone to set up tables and food in Lola's parents back year that was connected to the beach. Umbrellas also set up to keep the June heat away.

Rafe kept thinking about how perfect she looked in the lavender dress she wore. He wanted to take her away and apologize and confess his feelings for her. She wasn’t hiding her emotions very well this time as she pushed around her last few pieces of waffle around her plate. Barely staying engaged in conversation. It hurt him to know he had caused this.

Rafe had to endure the torture of her getting ready. Her leaned over the sink lips pouting as she applied lipgloss made him want to get on his knees behind her and beg for forgiveness in more than one way. Now he’s having to sit at brunch and see her try to look like everything is okay when he can tell she’s hurting.

“So love birds how was last night?” Tabitha asked raising her eyebrows at them suggestively. She was sitting across from the couple drinking her own mimosa.

The couple looked at each other briefly, “Uh it was good.” Lola smiled trying to put up a front.

“Just good?” Tabitha asked looking over at Rafe. Almost like she knew he had done something.

Before he could say anything Lola rolled her eyes with a weak smile, “Tabi some things stay private.”

“Yeah yeah,” She waved them off as she grabbed the champagne bottle in the middle of the table, “shit it’s empty.”

Lola perked up at the excuse to go away and clear her mind for a second, “I can go get some.” She pushed out her chair walking towards the house.

Rafe quickly stood up, “I’ll help.” Finally having an opportunity to be alone with Lola.

Lola cringed slightly, her back still turned to him as he took long strides to catch up to her. They didn’t speak as they walked into the house and towards the basement where the wine cellar was.

“Lola I have a lot I need to say to you,” Rafe said breaking the silence as they reached the bottom floor.

Lola’s heart began to beat faster. She closed her eyes and sighed turning towards him, “Rafe just go ahead and say it. I understand you don’t like me that way and I was too forward. I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

His heart ached as she spoke, “You have never made me uncomfortable. I-I wanted to do something so bad last night it physically hurt me to pull away from you,”

Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Well then why did you? You’re so confusing Rafe. You’ve been nothing but the perfect fake boyfriend and then we have moments where I-I feel like it’s not fake. Like you’re actually being real,” He stepped forward grabbing her hand interrupting her, “Because I am being real. When I saw you sitting there at the bar when we first met I thought to myself that no way is the prettiest girl in this whole room is the one paying me to take her out. Then I got to know you and I was even more baffled at the fact that every person isn’t falling at your feet.”

Her heart swelled at his words, “Rafe I-“

He reached up and grabbed her face gently, “You are the most beautiful extraordinary person I’ve ever met and I’ve only known you for a few weeks. This sounds crazy but I want to spend forever getting to know every part of you. I don’t want to be friends when we leave here, I want to be more.”

She smiled shyly at him. Lola’s face felt hot because no one had ever said anything so nice to her, “I want to be more too. I care for you so much Rafe and I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t let you have me.”

He felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. Hearing those words made him grin like an idiot, “Let me take you on a real first date then, when we get back to city.” He moved his hands rubbing them down her arms to hold her hands again. He brought them up to his lips kissing her knuckles softly.

Her racing pulse not easing with his romantic gestures. She felt like the lead in those romance books she was always reading. Rafe felt like a dream come true, never had she met a man that communicated how he felt and didn’t let her sulk for days before giving a half assed apology.

“Of course Rafe,” She couldn’t fight her grin.

He leaned forward pressing his lips to hers. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since they last kissed but it felt like a life time. The way her soft lips felt against his was a feeling he’ll never get used to. He let go of her hands wrapping his arms around her wait, his palms flat on her back gently pushing her towards him. Lola’s palms slid up his arms to wrap around his neck. One hand sliding up the back of his head gently tugging on his hair. She loved the feeling of him against her. She sighed softly into the kiss before he gently tugged on her bottom lip.

“As much as I’d love to keep going and even finish what you started last night I don’t want anyone to come looking for us and catch me inside of you,” Rafe said kissing her cheek then her nose.

She slapped his chest playfully, “Rafe! Don’t be so vulgar.”

He laughed as she stepped away from him to get the bottles of champagne they came for, “That wasn’t vulgar sweetheart. Vulgar is me saying we could get caught with my dick in your tight wet pu-“

“Rafe! Stop!” She shouted with wide eyes not wanting him to continue, “You’re gonna kill me,” She laughed.

"Also it's not always going to be this easy to get me to stop being upset with you," She continued, "Well you actually do have a lot of making up to do."

"I plan on making it up to you and prove that I'm worth your time. Don't worry sweetheart you'll probably be begging me to stop proving myself," He winked teasingly.

"Okay you're done," She laughed walking away. His words were making her feel flustered so she needed to walk away.

He smiled and grabbed the three bottles from her hands following her up the stairs. Of course he wasn’t going to let her carry a thing.

“Finally geez!” Tabitha shouted as the couple approached, “wow you two look chipper.” A smirk now appearing on her face.

“Why wouldn’t we be? My sister gets married tomorrow,” Lola said trying to deflect.

Penny who sat a seat away from Tabitha exclaimed, “Isn’t Lola just the best!” Clearly the mimosas had gotten to her now.

They sat down in their seats from before Rafe handing out the bottles. He felt giddy as Lola scooted her chair a bit closer to him. Lola felt relaxed for once. The whole time, no matter how convincing Rafe was, in the back of her mind she worried someone would find them out. Then they’d think she was some pathetic loser who lied about having a boyfriend and then paid one to go out with her. But now she didn’t have to worry about that because she knew that Rafe was being genuine.

The two love struck idiots were too busy feeling the butterflies in their stomachs to notice Thomas glaring at them from down the table. He couldn’t stand the sight of them. Mostly because he couldn’t stand seeing Lola happy. He liked when she was miserable because of him because it made him feel good to know he had that affect on her. But here she was with a guy more attractive and kind than him and she was glowing. He hated it.

Thomas hated it so much after the bachelor party and after spotting them kissing across the street he went back to his airbnb and did some major research. Searching Rafe’s name on every platform. He could barely find anything on him. Rafe only had instagram and only three pictures on his profile. One with his sisters, one with his friends, and one of him at the lake on his boat. He found his very successful company and net worth but Rafe tried to live a very private life so there was not much on him.

Until Thomas used one of his instagram pictures to reverse image search. He’d never admit to anyone he did this. That’s when he started stumbling upon pictures of Rafe at different weddings. He somehow ended up down a rabbit hole where he read an article in a magazine from an anonymous man. Talking about how he has a successful company but likes to keep women company because he knows what it feels like to always be the single person at parties.

He thought he was being a little crazy for jumping to conclusions. But after sitting up almost all night thinking about it he took the leap and figured put Rafe was a male escort.

His theory wasn’t confirmed but still he sat glaring at the couple who he couldn’t figure out. Because if he really was an escort he was good at his job, Rafe had them all convinced he was really into Lola.

Penny stood up clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. Harry stood up with her placing his hand on her back. She smiled widely, “We are so happy to have you all here for our special day tomorrow. This amazing week is almost coming to an end and I wish it could go one forever!”

Harry smiled at his fiancée before beginning to speak, “We have to head to the courthouse to do some final things. Please try not to get too drunk before the rehearsal dinner tonight guys.”

“We’ll see you all in a couple hours on the beach!” They waved and everyone shouted their goodbyes as the couple walked away.

Lola was glad to have some time for just her and Rafe before having to deal with more of her family.

She turned to him, “Rehearsal dinner is at seven so we have some time to hang out.”

Rafe placed his hand on her thigh rubbing smooth circles on the exposed skin from her dress, “Sounds perfect, how about we get a bottle of wine and find a private spot on the beach?”

She leaned forward kissing his cheek softly, “Sounds like the best day.”

“Lola honey come try on your bridesmaids dress incase we need to do any last minute altering,” Lola’s mom interrupted standing on the other side of the table.

Lola sighed, “Sure mom. I’ll come get you when I’m done if you want to hang out in my room or something.”

“Take your time babe,” He brushed hair behind her ear, “I’ll be here.”

She grinned widely not being able to fight the heat in her face. Lola followed behind her mom to the house.

Rafe stood up and was making his way to porch to catch up on some work. Everyone had dispersed to whatever they were going to do to keep themselves busy while the couple was out. As he walked up he heard someone jogging behind him to catch up to him.

“So uh Rafe how’d you and Lola meet again?” Thomas asked suddenly, not even bothering to greet him.

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Just want to hear it again how you two love birds met each other.”

Rafe scoffed, “Sure buddy. We met at a bar, and I couldn’t let the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen leave without trying to talk to her.”

Once they reached the top of the deck Rafe stopped and turned facing the guy he really didn’t like. For someone who cheated on their ex he seemed very interested in her still.

Thomas nodded his head, “Right right, so you guys didn’t meet online or anything?”

“No, what’s up with the questions?” Rafe crossed his arms over his chest, looking as broad as ever.

He smirked shrugging and mimicking Rafe’s position, “Just want to make sure Lola has found herself a good guy. Don’t want her to be paying for someone’s company or anything like that.”

Rafe’s face never changed even though on the inside he panicked for a second. But then he realized he could use Thomas’ stupidity to his advantage.

He laughed, “I really don’t think she needs you looking out for her.”

“I’m just say desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Rafe took a step closer to him not wanting to hear his bullshit anymore, “Look Thomas, I know what happened between you two so I really don’t like you. I also don’t like you assuming you think you know what’s best for my girlfriend. I also don’t like the things you’re insinuating about her. So I think it’d be best if you fucked off because if I remember correctly your boss and I are golf partners.” Yeah Rafe did a bit of his own research too before he even came here.

It turned out that Rafe’s golf partner was Thomas’ boss. He was a big guy in finance who was worth millions and he liked Rafe. He saw him as like a son he never had, so one word from him and Thomas’ job was out the window.

He scoffed, “You’re bluffing.”

“Should I call Martin right now? Or should I just wait until a couple weeks from now when I see him at his wife’s birthday party," He smirked, "see after you blatantly insulted my girl on the boat I did some research and found out where you work."

“Whatever dude, treat her like shit. I don’t give a fuck.” Thomas practically stomped away like a toddler. Rafe grinned to himself and sat down on the sofa on the deck starting to look through his emails.

-

Lola loved clothes and all that girly stuff, it made her feel pretty and delicate. But having to try a dress on in front of her mom made her want to crawl out of her skin. Her eyes picked up every one of her flaws and it made her feel horrible. Except this time was different.

“You look amazing darling!” Her mom swooned as she watched Lola spin slowly in the light blue satin gown.

“Thanks mom, can I change now?” She asked brushing her hands over her stomach to smooth out the dress.

“Sure. Ugh you’re so grown up,” Her eyes began to water and Lola would have felt like it was sincere if her mom hadn’t messed up her life so much.

Lola went back into her parents bathroom to change. Her mom sat at the end of her bed facing the bathroom door.

“Honey you do know that I’m sorry for everything.”

Lola sighed, “Yeah mom.”

“Because you don’t come and visit me anymore and-and you’ve changed so much-“

Lola slipped the straps of her summer dress back on her shoulder, “That’s why you’re sorry? because I don’t visit you anymore.”

“Well yes-“

Lola opened the door abruptly she cross her arms over her chest, “You made out with my boyfriend and I was stupid and forgave him only to find out he had been cheating on me half of the relationship. Of course I’m going to change mom. The one person in this world who is never supposed to betray you hurt me more than ever. And I’m talking about you not him.”

Her mom frowned, “If I could go back I would change everything.”

Lola shook her head, “Mom you just would try not to get caught this time. I need more time.”

Her mom sighed, “How much more time? You’ve clearly moved on so what more can there be?”

“Just because I’ve found someone who actually cares about me doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten everything that got me there. That was the worst heart ache of my life and-and you expect me to be over it now?”

Her mom didn’t say anything, just as Lola expected. She scoffed and walked back downstairs not wanting to hear more excuses or feel like it’s her fault her relationship with her mom is ruined.

When she walked out onto the deck in the distance she could hear her family and the bridal parties, to her left Rafe was sat typing away on his phone. She smiled to herself remembering all his words from earlier. She walked over to him and plopped down next to him. He turned towards her and smiled.

“How was the fitting?” He locked his phone and set it aside wanting to give her his full attention.

Lola sighed tilting her head back looking up at the sky, “It was fine, my mom just being herself like always.”

“I think I know something that can help take your mind off things,” He places his hand on her giving it a gentle squeeze. He also chose not to tell her about Thomas because he didn’t want her to worry. Rafe would make sure she never had anything to worry about.

Her mood instantly perked up, “Like what?”

“Like a bottle of pinot and a blanket right over there,” He pointed at a spot on the beach in the distance, “Just me and you.”

“Sounds perfect,” Lola grinned and Rafe leaned forward kissing her cheek.

-

“When we get back I’m taking you out,” He turned his head on her lap to look at her, “Treating you like a princess.”

Lola brushed her hands through his hair gently, “I can’t believe you even like me.”

Rafe scoffed offended that she had insulted herself, “Babe I can’t believe you like me. You’re a dream come true how can I not like you. The sweetest prettiest girl.”

She leaned back on her elbows tilting her chin up to the sky feeling the sun on her chest but she didn’t need it to feel hot. Rafe was so good at making her feel warm all over with just his words. She felt like she was on cloud 9.

“How were you single?”

He shrugged, “I liked it that way, I didn’t want any complications. Then I met you and being around you felt so easy.”

“You don’t need to keep buttering me up. I’m already yours,” Lola teased. Her heart couldn’t take his honesty.

He sat up sitting across from her. The sun had began to set only orange and pink hues painting the sky. They had to head back to change for the rehearsal dinner soon but they were trying to savor every moment before then.

“Lola you deserve to constantly be showered in compliments,” He kissed her knee that was now bent towards the sky, “Now lets go finish what we started and make shit head jealous.”

“You’re gonna make me have a permanent smile on my face if you keep saying the right stuff Cameron,” Lola laughed as they got up.

They packed up their things and headed back to the house. Rafe’s arm wrapped around her shoulders as they talked about the pets they had growing up.

-

The night was filled with catching up with her parents friends and a few of Lola’s old college friends. Rafe stuck by her side through it all. He knew when she would start to get uncomfortable and would find a way to excuse themselves. People would be impressed by Rafe’s success, some even knowing his company already.

He never really had this problem with clients in his past. He didn’t realize just how well known and successful her parents were until now. It solidified his opinion that Lola was a lot different than her family.

Penny was thriving on the attention from everyone. Flashing her ring at any moment possible. Lola liked to keep to herself, finding any excuse to be away from any conversation. She never felt like she fit in with these people.

“At least tomorrow’s our last day here,” Lola said sipping her drink. They were leaning against the bar.

Rafe nodded his head, “I honestly can’t wait to get back.”

She turned to him with a smirk, “So they really are that bad huh?”

He shook his head, “They’re not that bad but sometimes this place reminds me too much of home and there’s a reason why I live in the city.”

“Right there with you,” She paused for a second, “I know you don’t talk too much about it but whenever you’re ready to tell me more about your family I’ll be ready to listen.”

He gave her a lopsided smile, “I know baby.”

She brought her drink up to him, "To one more day."

He raised his glass tapping it against her cheering, "To one more day."

-

tagged: @rosal1nd , @magicwithaknife , @f4ll-for-you , @hotch-meeeeeuppppp , @loveu-always , @weareatthebadlands , @camelliaflow3r , @abbybarnesstuff , @tpwk-mia

(if you’d like to be removed or added leave an ask <3)

(for some reason I couldn’t find peoples @‘s but I left them anyways so if you’ve changed your user or something let me know!!)

[smuttyfang]

Johnny Silverhand, Seeing His Daughter

"If I can make a request for Johnny Silverhand x reader johnny while still being stuck in V finds out that His girlfriend had his daughter and he wants to see them so V takes him."

Words: 1,369

"Are you really sure about this?" You were feeling the tension and how nervous Johnny was. No words had to be spoken for you to feel each others emotions. His form materialized against the outside of the building, right beside of the entrance. It was in a nice area of Japantown.

"I need to see her. I didn't know I.. had a fucking kid. How was I supposed to know? I have to see her." He materialized again beside of you, looking up at the huge skyscraper. "Nice place.."

"Seems like she must live in a condo. Alt.. Well, Alt's current form, said she lived at the top." Johnny was visibly nervous, and wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it.

"Why didn't she tell me before she died? I could have found her, could have.." You wanted to chuckle at him, but you both knew that never would have happened. It almost made you feel sorry for him.

"Been a father?" You said, almost sad. There's no way he would have been a good father for her in his past, considering what his goals were back then. Not to mention his lifestyle.

"A shitty one, probably.. but I could have been one." His reaction made you feel even worse for him. He knew he wouldn't have made for a good father, even if he wanted to be one. He knew it too.

"Listen.." You crossed your arms. "I'll come up with a lie. I'll say that I knew her father for quite some time, long time ago. Before you decide if you want me to tell her who you really are. If you do, I'll tell her about you. If not, I'll paint a picture that she had a decent man as her father and give her some kind of closure. Without the gory details of your past." He thought for a good long while. Long enough for you to pull out a cigarette and take a few puffs. You knew that you smoking would also help him think, subconciously, in some strange way.

"Alright. I'll let you know what I'm thinkin'. Let's go." He disappeared. Entering the building, you realized this place was fancy, much too rich for your blood. She must make a pretty decent living. You stepped into the elevator, heading for the top floor. You could feel the complete fear coming from Johnny, even though he had no words to say in the moment. It was the oddest thing, thinking of Johnny Silverhand of all people being speechless. Once the elevator stopped, the doors opened into a small hallway, leading to the main door of the condo. You walked to it, lightly tapping on the door. You could hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor. Opening the door, she raised her eyebrow at you.

"Hi.. Can I help you?" The resembelance to Johnny was uncanny. She had the same jet black hair, dark eyes, the same slender face and cheekbones. She was wearing a dress, but you could see some colorful tattoos on her neck that trailed down her chest. She had some cybernetics on her face around her eyes, but not much else that you could see. She didn't look much like Alt, from what you have seen of her.

"Yeah, hey.. This might sound really strange to you, but do you know who your father is?" She scoffed at you.

"No, I don't, nor do I care to. Goodbye." She started to close the door on you, but you stopped her. She clearly had her father's attitude. Was she anything like Alt?

"Just- please wait. I knew him." She stopped for a moment, gulping.

"Knew?" You nodded. "I see.. You can come in I suppose." She opened the door, allowing you inside. Her condo was just as expensive looking as the rest of the building. It almost looked as though nobody actually lived there. Everything was spotless. She led you to her living room. A huge open window led outside to a pool on her patio. It was all complimented by a huge fully stocked bar, with plenty of vintage wines. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Nothin' fancy, just some vodka." She poured a glass for you, and poured some wine for herself. She brought the glass back to you, and motioned for you to sit down on the couch. You did so, before hearing Johnny in your head.

"She's nothin' like me." He appeared beside you on the couch, leaning back casually. He was probably in denial. You spoke back to him, in your own thoughts.

"She is just like you. Just maybe with much better circumstances in life." He huffed at you, knowing you were right. You turned your attention back to Johnny's daughter. "Thanks for the drink." You took a sip.

"Welcome. So.. you knew my father? I assume he is long dead by now." She takes a big gulp of her wine. She doesn't seem to feel entirely comfortable talking about it, but she needed to know.

"Yeah.. he is. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Didn't know him." She shrugged her shoulders. "Hard for me to feel attached."

"I know, but he wished he could have met you. He would, if he were still here." Johnny still stayed silent.

"What makes you so sure? He's not here to tell you that." Hardheaded. Not surprising.

"He and I were close. I just know he would." Leaning forward, you rested your elbows on your knees. "I thought I would come here to tell you about him, if you wanted to know. But I'm also here to learn a little about you. He wanted someone to know." She sighed, finishing her glass.

"I need more wine for this." She went to the bar, getting more drinks. Time went on in your conversation, and more drinks were swallowed down. She told you that she was living nicely because she had a very high paying job working on cyber security systems. She freelanced and managed herself, choosing who she worked for. She told you that she knew who to stay away from, including Arosaka. "Dangerous, dangerous people." She shook her head. "I'm not saying they deserved to be blown up but.. it was hard to feel bad for them when I learned about it." Johnny laughed.

"Nevermind. She really must be my daughter."

"She's also like Alt in one way. She's too smart for her own good, sounds like." Your head began to feel somewhat fuzzy, so you only halfway finished your last drink. "You're a lot like your dad."

"Am I? I guess it's possible." She stood up, walking to the window to look out at the city. "I never wanted children. Would he have wanted grandchildren too, I wonder?" Johnny didn't have a response.

"I'm not sure. He only wanted to know you. I know even though he's not here, he would have been proud of you for how successful you've become. Also for making better choices than he did."

"Better choices, huh..?" She hummed. "What was he like?" She turned to you. It was time for Johnny to make a choice. You looked in his direction. He sighed and shook his head.

"Don't tell her who I was.. my name. She's too good a kid. She deserves a good dad. To think she had a good dad." You stood up, walking over to her. You put your hand on her shoulder.

"Your dad was, most times, a stubborn, hateful jackass who made a lot of mistakes and bad choices in his life." She looked to the floor. "But he wanted to atone for his mistakes in the end, especially with not being in your life. He would have loved you. I know he would."

"I'm.. glad to know that he would have." She crossed her arms. Johnny suddenly stood up, then materialized at the door.

"Alright, that's enough.. I don't want her to know what kind of person her dad really is. Let's go, before she finds out. Please." In meeting his daughter, he suddenly was hit with all the shame and guilt from his actions in the past. All at once. "I'm such an idiot."

Link to the original post on AO3.

[moonyasnow]

TWST OC Showcase: Irina Barret

Vice Housewarden of Ramshackle; the Dorm based on the Lonely Ghosts' Spirit of Adaptability

(Housewarden: Tomoe Sakurada)

Voice Claim: SynthV TETO

Human Right-handed Wales - Ramshackle Dorm 152cm / 4'11 - #ae6bcf / 174, 107, 207 June 1st - Gemini - 16 y.o. 1st year - Freshman - Class D, no. 3 Gargoyle Appreciation Club Best Subject: Potionology Hobbies: Sculpting Pet peeves: The sounds of glass and porcelain Favorite food: Warm bread Least favorite food: Cold leftovers Talent: Empathetic Perception Floyd-given name: Shrimpy Rook-given name: Demoiselle Lapine Cater-given name: Rini

Link to all my OC Showcases here!

Some quotes:

"U-um…please give me work! I-I can cook, clean, do laundry, a-and I can be very quiet about it, too! You'll barely even realize I'm here." — "I don't want to be a burden on you. Right now, I imagine I am probably using up resources, and I'm not even offering anything in return…"

"Um...I-I'm sorry!"

She's crouching down on her knees in her bed, crying, muffling her sobs by biting her hands. She wants to scream. [internal narration] *He hates me, he hates me, he hates me, he hates me, he hates me, he hates me! It's all my fault!* "H-he won't even look at me…!" She sobs. *Of course not. Who would want to spend time with someone they think doesn't trust them? A-and I can't even clear up the misunderstanding…! I'm horrible, worthless, a burden, useless…so many people's lives would be better if I was never born!*

! W A R N I N G ! Her backstory is H E A V Y. I mean it when I say this is the darkest backstory out of any of my OCs.

Includes themes of: child endangerment, physical & emotional child neglect, verbal & emotional child abuse, suicide(someone else), mental illness, C-PTSD and SH(biting, self-neglect, chasing things/people that are bad for her)

Only read further if you feel that's something you can handle today. Take care of yourself <3

Irina's mother was from a quite well-off family in Bulgaria, and her father was from a bad part of London. On a vacation to London, the two of them had a fling that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. And Irina's mother's family, having quite traditional values, said she had to marry the father. So she did, and moved to live with him in his apartment in London. But they both quickly realized they were a horrible match.

Her parents hated each other and always fought. Her mother always said that if she'd just never been born, her life would be perfect because she wouldn't be stuck living in what she with her good upbringing considered squalor with Irina's father, who spent all their money on alcohol and drugs, and said it was all Irina's fault. And her father didn't like seeing her at all because he was reminded of her mother who— in his mind— always nagged at him for stupid, useless reasons and seemed to make it her life mission to torment him at home when he'd never done anything to deserve that. Two incredibly proud, selfish people who would drag a child into their conflict. Her father would get mad and yell whenever she— or mostly her mother, since Irina quickly learned to be quiet and never talk back— bothered him in any way. When her mother confronted him about spending so much of that month's money out drinking, their screaming matches often got violent. Her father would hit her mother, or flip over furniture— most often he'd throw plates and glasses and bottles, either at the wall or her mother. Then her mother would yell at him until he left the apartment, after which she start to cry, yelling at Irina if she saw her. As a result Irina can't handle it when she hears the sounds of breaking glass or porcelain; it makes her panic so much she just dissociates. And even the sounds of them, not broken, clinking against things makes her incredibly on edge. Though most often, Irina would hide in her room, sitting on her 'bed' that was just a mattress on the floor, hiding herself under her blanket. She always felt the safest under her blanket. But when not actively upset, her mother would exert whatever control she felt she could over Irina, even in entirely pointless ways, just to not feel as powerless as she did living with her husband; refusing to ever be told 'no' and guilt-tripping and forcing Irina to do/not do whatever her mother wanted or didn't want her to. Her parents often forgot to feed her, too. Since she'd already been conditioned to never ask for anything, she started smuggling small scraps of food into her room, which she hid in a little box in her closet. But she still stopped growing at 152cm and remained very petite for the rest of her life, due in part to the childhood malnutrition. But they weren't always cruel to her. Sometimes, very rarely, one of them would be in a good mood; usually because the other was away. On these rare occasions her father would sometimes let her sit next to him on the couch, and would show her what he thought were the best parts of the game shows he loved to watch were. And if she seemed interested enough in whatever story he was telling, he'd even smile at her, and compliment her, and ruffle her hair. And when her mother was in a good mood, she'd smile at Irina and tell her she did a good job helping with the chores. She would sometimes even ask Irina what she wanted to have for dinner that day. Irina always made sure to pick something she knew her mother liked, to make her even more happy, so she'd smile at Irina even more. Those small moments made her absolutely overjoyed, and made her want to make them smile like that again. It was the only taste of 'affection' she had for the first five years of her life. And it planted the idea in her head that, if only it was just her and one of her parents, they could actually be a happy family.

When she'd see children with their parents, she became jealous, since her parents never held her hand, hugged her, sang her to sleep or gave her any sort of comfort. When she'd tried to hug them, they brushed her off and walked away. She tried to be away from home as much as she could, since she hated always hearing her parents scream at each other. When she played pretend with other kids in the neighborhood, she could ignore the reality of her situation and just be happy for a while. When they all wanted to go home because it had gotten too late, she felt lonely and scared again, because she wouldn't have anything to distract her from thinking about home. She had no other adult she could confide in, and she felt scared of her parents. They had never physically harmed her, but she was scared that they might someday. But even worse than being home when both of them were there was when only she and one of her parents were home. Then, they'd scream at her, and she was always scared they would hit her. Now that she's grown up, sometimes when it's quiet, she thinks she can still hear the distant, muffled sounds of her parents fighting with each other. And whenever anything bad happens in her life, she hears her mother's voice whispering to her saying 'your fault'.

She had one close friend from when she was 5 to 8— he was two years older than her, had brown hair and green eyes, and he was the best thing in her life. He found her crying under a tree one day after her parents had an argument. He told her his name and asked why she was crying, and when she didn't answer, just looking up at him, through her tears, hugging her knees, he just sat down next to her to begin reading something. She eventually asked what it was, and he read aloud to her. They became best friends. He would bring sweets for them to eat together, he would read to her, and whenever she was scared or sad or crying he'd wipe away her tears and ruffle her hair, placing a small kiss on the top of her head and tell the tears to go away. He taught her how to read, too! He was the only good thing in her life, her only experience with what love and comfort should feel like. When she was with him, she could forget about her parents and how miserable she otherwise felt. She could wake up each day looking forward to seeing him. She was in love with him, and dreamed of the two of them being together forever. She was so happy she could cry every time she saw him. And some of her absolute best memories were of when it had been snowing and all the kids in the neighborhood would come out to play together, where he and Irina would often join in. Or sometimes they'd just make snowmen, or snow-angels. Snowy weather has always been her favorite. Not only did her happiest memories always happen when it was snowing or had recently snowed, she thought everything being covered in snow was comforting. To her, it looked like a big, fluffy, heavy blanket, muffling the world and making it quiet, hiding her from every bad thing. She liked making snowmen the most. And she eventually started making them in more interesting shapes, most often rabbits. She'd always loved rabbits. They were the only animal she didn't feel afraid of. She often used to fantasize about owning a lot of rabbits when she grew up. Her friend once gave her a little pink plush bunny for her birthday; he said he saw it in a shop window, and it reminded him of her. She named it 'Clover' after the flower crowns he'd make for her, as well as the color of his eyes. When she cried about how much she hated the sounds of when her parents would throw glasses and plates and bowls into the ground and break them and that she'd only have wooden cups and bowls when she grew up, he said he'd also have wooden cups and bowls, so she could visit him. She felt so happy, and so treasured, and loved… But then one day he just stopped showing up. She waited, but he never came back to play with her again. She cried and cried, scared that she would never see him again, wishing so badly that he would come back, wondering why he left her behind. Only then, after losing him, did she realize he was all that had been filling up her heart until that point. She developed abandonment issues, and began to feel what loneliness was for the first time. Before she met him, she was always, always alone. He took away her loneliness…but she didn't realize the absence of it until it returned. …Eventually, knowing he was gone and probably not coming back, the memory of him in her heart hurt her so much that she just…forgot. Her mind repressed all memory of him, to keep her from hurting. So she thought she'd always been alone. Anytime she remembered him, she thought he was just an imaginary friend she dreamt about as a child, to save her from her loneliness. And eventually she forgot about him altogether. But the impression he'd had on her never faded. The color green would forever feel 'safe' to her.

Then on June 3d, two days after her 9th birthday, after a particularly bad argument, her father— like he usually did— left the house. Her mother asked her to go pick flowers to put in a vase on the table for when her father eventually came back. When Irina came back in she found her mother's corpse hanging from the ceiling. Her skin was blue. Irina could almost hear her say 'your fault', which her mother oh-so-loved to say to her. She believed it. She hid in her room for 4 days until her father finally came back. When she heard him come back she ran to him and hugged him. When he saw her mother, for the first time, he hugged her back. She was convinced this meant the two of them would start over fresh somewhere, since the only reason he was so unhappy was because he was stuck with her mother. He packed a bag and started walking, and let her follow after him, holding onto the edge of his big sleeve. But then, at the edge of the town where they lived, he told her to wait there. She did. She never saw him again. A week later, on June 13th, she was found dehydrated and half-starved, holding onto her bunny plush Clover, and taken to live at an orphanage. Funnily enough, she didn't remember where she got Clover. She thought her parents probably got it for her at some point. Knowing that not even her parents— the only people who were ever supposed to love her unconditionally— didn't want her, even when there was only her father left and her mother, whom he hated, was no longer in the picture… It broke her. After this point she truly started to believe she was inherently worthless, and that no one could ever love her. While she lived at that orphanage, she started trying to play with kids who lived nearby more than she had before, and she did make friends, always with one kid at a time. And she was so happy to have a friend— someone who could make her feel loved and make her forget things at home— that she always became obsessed and overly attached and incredibly clingy, getting jealous every time they even talked to a kid that wasn't her and scared they would stop being her friend because they found someone better. She never really managed to make any long-term friends because of this. That clinginess lead to them always leaving her behind, perpetuating the cycle. She only got better at hiding her emotions. As well as people pleasing— to a chronic extent. Every time someone left her, she became even more convinced of the fact that she was unlovable and thus became even more scared she'd be abandoned. Every time, she lost a little more trust for people until she just couldn't open up to anyone at ALL. She was convinced keeping it all hidden is what she needed to do to keep people with her— not bother them with her issues. But she has barely any memories from this time of her life. Only a handful of them The only thing she remembered fully clearly about this part of her life is that Clover, her bunny plush, was always there. Funnily enough, she didn't remember where she got Clover. She thought her parents probably got it for her at some point. She brought it with her everywhere, and it had suffered through all the same things as her. She still has it to this day, and since it's quite small, she brings it with her everywhere. It was the closest thing she can remember having to an anchor as a child, so despite being at an age where she thinks she should have 'outgrown' stuffed animals, she can't bring herself to let go of it.

When she was 13, she ended up being adopted by her uncle— her mother's brother— whom she had never heard of before. He'd recently moved to Wales for his work, and that's how the system found him. He was the first adult who was ever kind to her. He asked how she was doing, set aside time to play with and read her to bed, brought her with him to see fireworks, to run errands, or just go on walks. And she was surprised when— shortly after adopting her— he took her out to buy new clothes, and also said she could pick out one more thing from whatever store she wanted. She wasn't at all used to receiving things, and didn't feel like she deserved it. But he often had to leave for a few days at a time due to his job requiring him to be away from home often. Every time this happened, paranoia set in that he was going to abandon her just like her father did. Each night he was gone she would cry herself to sleep, begging for him to come back. She spent moment of his absence doing almost nothing except waiting for him to come back. And her luck socializing with her peers didn't really improve much... Ever since she was around 8 years old, she had started developing in a way that was very strange compared to her peers. As a child she had very strong reactions to things, she wore her emotions on her sleeve at all times, and these emotions seemed to be much stronger than those of other people around her. But those explosive feelings never matured with her as she got older, and she kept having almost child-like outbursts of emotion even well into her teens. The tiniest thing— like forgetting to bring something that she was asked to bring, not knowing the location of her stuffed rabbit Snowie for even a few minutes, or being lightly insulted in a friendly way could make her start sobbing uncontrollably and have a massive breakdown. Though often, just 10 minutes later, she'd have stopped crying and felt entirely fine again. So when she was herself, her wild mood swings seemed to just be too much for everyone. And her experience with her original parents had made her extremely unassertive and scared of angering people, to the point of her developing social anxiety and rejection sensitivity. She absolutely hates people being upset at her, and if she thinks she's done something wrong, she thinks people will dislike her. Since she herself was never enough for anyone as a child, she doesn't think she ever will be. And the new 'friends' she did manage to make were...not the best for her. Somehow the people she seemed to attract were always ones who didn't care about her, who'd use her, take advantage of her desperation for love, affection and validation and drip-feed it to her after she did things for them, before dropping her once they didn't think she was amusing or helpful anymore. When they did still like her, think she was fun and wanted to spend time with her, she felt absolutely high on the joy. But the moment they avoided or ignored her, even for just a moment, it felt like the world was caving in on itself. But they told her she was just being clingy, which once again got her to hide her feelings so as not to displease them. Gradually chipping away at more and more of her, until there was nothing left. Until she was just a shapeless lump of clay for them to mold however they liked. But she'd endure it. That was what love was, right? It was supposed to hurt, and she was supposed to cover that hurt up so they'd stay with her. To endure was to love. Because enduring showed a commitment, that she would still stay with them. That was all she wanted, after all. She knew most of her friends wanted more from her than just her loyalty, though, so she'd do anything they asked her to. Even when it hurt. But they all left her in the end no matter how hard she tried.

And every single time another one of her friends left her, her abandonment issues just became even worse. She thought it was all her fault, and that if she'd just tried harder, had fewer boundaries, been better, they wouldn't have left. She thought she was the problem. Eventually, she'd become convinced that everyone is going to leave her in the end, and stopped being able to trust anyone, alternating between 'I don't want them to get close enough to hurt me' and 'they're going to leave anyway so I'm going to try to be close to them while I can', sometimes even experiencing both at the same time. As a result, when someone actually nice, who had good intentions and respected her, did actually approach her with the intention of genuinely becoming her friend, she ended up just panicking. That wasn't how friendships went for her, after all. She was always the one giving 90%! So she was so confused when anyone was nice to her for no apparent reason. And so she ended up usually just avoiding and ignoring them until they stopped trying to get close to her. But it made her so sad every time because it felt like being abandoned and given up on all over again. But she just didn't know how to deal with the paralyzing fear and paranoia them being genuinely good to her caused her. Afterwards she would always cry and bite her hands and lip and arms so much that she'd fall asleep from exhaustion with her arms and mouth covered in her own blood. Then in the morning, all she'd need to do was wash the blood off and no one would be able to tell that she'd hurt herself. Eventually, she learned to bottle up the biggest of those feelings until she was alone, upon which she'd have another breakdown. As a result, the people who know her now don't know the true extent of her mood-swings, since she's become such a people-pleaser in a desperate attempt for people to stop leaving her that she no longer lets herself become upset in front of others. But it feels empty, since no one ever knows the real her. Always bottling her feelings up makes her feel like she's just one tick away from exploding at all times. But since bottling her emotions up like that has begun to feel like yet another matter of survival, she never lets them boil over.

Some miscellaneous info about her:

Irina is very physically independent while also being quite emotionally dependent. Meaning: She can take care of her physical needs (cooking, cleaning, buying food, washing her clothes, etc) by herself, but she relies heavily on others emotionally. She realizes she has no idea who she is as a person, what her personality is, what she likes, etc. She can never remember her past emotions nor truly comprehend thoughts of the future. The current moment, to her, becomes 'eternal'. Her mood-swings and splitting episodes don't make this any better or easier. She also takes VERY bad care of herself both mentally and physically. She was just never really taught how. When her uncle was away she mostly just ate bread, cereal or instant noodles, just because she only puts in effort for other people.

She's gotten really good both at noticing every subtle, tiny little change in someone— in addition to already having a great sense of natural intuition, or 'gut feeling', about people— and at figuring out exactly what people wanted to hear, and saying it to them to avoid conflict. Though as a result, she doesn't really know how to open up to others. She's still so stuck in 'anyone can become angry at you therefore trust no one and never let your guard down' mode. And partly due to that paranoia, she never told her uncle what her life had been like before he adopted her, him only knowing that both her parents were out of the picture for some reason or another. Actually, no one but Irina knows that. She never told anyone. Not about any of it, always being very careful in how she worded herself when asked about her past, or life, or herself in general.

Because of the way her mother died, she has a crippling fear of being unable to breathe/suffocating.

She really hates Summer. The sounds of cicadas, the bright, merciless sun, the strong smells and the loud noises of people and nature, the heat— all of it reminds her of the summer she turned 9. Seeing her mother's corpse, being forced to wait hungry and thirsty in her room for four days of 'going to the bathroom' in the corner of her room because she was too scared to open her bedroom door, since it'd mean seeing her mother again. Then being abandoned by her father when he finally came back, sitting in the scorching sun for a week waiting for him, almost dying of dehydration. Near the end of May, she always starts to feel intense anxiety, the kind where you feel like you can't breathe. And she hates her birthday, hates having it acknowledged in any way.

And around this time start the nightmares. Nightmares where she sees her mother, hanging from the ceiling, telling her in a hoarse, breathless voice that it was her fault. That she is so worthless that she didn't make her mother's life worth it, that she was so much of a horrible burden her mother would want to die just to get away from her. Her father strangles Irina with a rope that smells like vomit, and it burns her neck and it hurts so much and she cries and cries and cries and apologizes. Sometimes the person strangling her is a friend, or someone she loves. Or they're standing off to the side, watching her be strangled, doing nothing, looking at her with apathy and annoyance in their expression and walking away even as she reaches for them, begging them to turn around. She always wakes up the second before she dies, hyperventilating and shaking and crying and almost wailing. She claws at her throat and still feels like she can't breathe at first. Often until she bites herself. The pain reminds her she can breathe. Then she takes in giant gulps of breath, like someone who's been underwater for decades. She holds herself as tight as she can, leans over until her forehead is against her mattress and cries until she falls asleep again, exhausted.

It continues like that almost every night until around the start of August. On some nights, if she's lucky, it'll be raining. The nightmares don't come when it rains. This is why she hates summer vacation. Not only will she have to deal with that almost every night, the lack of a routine makes it even worse, and she doesn't even have the luxury of looking forward to be able to talk to someone the next day. Sleeping aids like medication don't work— it just gives her sleep paralysis.

Often, this just translates into her staying up late at night with insomnia, or because she's too afraid of the nightmares to want to even try to fall asleep. She does this quite often even when it's not Summer, as well.

At NRC:

For her and Tomoe, I'll be doing breakdowns of what they did during and in-between the books. Includes spoilers for: Books 1-5 (tiny bit Book 6 and Book 7 too but barely)

Prologue

Unlike Tomoe, who was woken up early by Grim, Irina was woken up at the same time as the other freshman, and went through the ceremony like normal, until it came to her turn, and a wave of confusion swept through the hall when it was found out she was magicless. But it was forgotten as Tomoe soon arrived, following the Headmage. They both ended up in Ramshackle. As Tomoe was older she became Housewarden, and Irina the Vice Housewarden, as Tomoe did not feel safe giving the position to Grim.

As she was cleaning somewhere else at the time, she also wasn't there when Tomoe, Grim and Ace burnt the Queen of Hearts statue, nor for the ensuing detention where the chandelier broke. But Irina used her bunny eyes(basically puppy dog eyes) to convince Crowley to let them try to get the magestone instead of being expelled right away. She wasn't even fully intending to— she really just wanted to ask Crowley about it, and then, feeling bad for Tomoe for being in the same situation as her— homeless, basically, with no way home— she kinda just…accidentally convinced him by saying she was worried for Tomoe, Crowley realizing 'oh shit what if people found out I kicked her out—imagine the lawsuits'. And Irina being genuinely worried enough that it showed on her face was, in part due to being worried for Tomoe herself yes, but mostly she just didn't want to be alone in that big house with just the ghosts. And, somewhere in the back of her mind, she kept thinking that, if Tomoe did actually manage to stay, she would be happy with Irina and like her more. And Irina's people-pleasing is chronic.

Whether or not Irina actually intends her bunny eyes even 50% of the time is up for debate. She's also unconsciously gotten used to always looking like a kicked puppy due to the fact that people underestimating and pitying her has really helped her in life. Not to mention the fact that she's not very good at hiding it when she's feeling something, so her anxiety often shows on her face.

Irina ended up being in the same class as Sebek, and given her experience with people yelling, she did not like the experience one bit, always hoping she'd get a seat as far away from him as possible.

Book 1

During the events of Book 1 she mostly just followed Tomoe around, not speaking much unless she herself was directly adressed. She almost started crying when Riddle yelled at her to wear her tie correctly, which soured her entire perception of him for the rest of the school year, making her scared of him. Though she also ended up somewhat latching onto Trey as one of the few people she felt a little bit less on edge around than others, the only other at that point being Tomoe.

Though in general, she was mostly left to her own devices, since Tomoe, as the Housewarden, is the one Crowley most often calls on to do tasks for him. She hates having so much time to herself, alone, since that's when her bad thoughts strike again. Realizing that Tomoe being so busy meant she wouldn't have time but that Irina did, she ended up applying for a job at Mostro Lounge shortly after Riddle's Overblot, and was hired as a waitress.

In so doing, she became acquainted with Ruggie, the unofficial Savannaclaw Vice-Housewarden, as they happened to have quite a lot of their shifts together, and he was also the one responsible for training her. He was relieved she picked it up rather quickly. It was kinda like they could just...feel, that they were from somewhat similar backgrounds, or at least had similar experiences, so they quickly began to feel a silent kinship with each other.

And during her work, Floyd seemed to take somewhat of an interest in her, giving her the nickname 'Shrimpy' for her short stature, pink hair and general skittishness. He often played pranks on her and tried to get her attention, saying it was because "Your reactions are so funny Shrimpy~ and you're real nice too." However, she seemed to be really good at handling his typical mood-swings, at least compared to most other people, actually taking his emotions seriously and suggesting work-arounds and compromises rather than scolding him whenever he 'just didn't feel like it'. And so Azul decide to put her on 'Floyd duty'. And if she were to admit it, it was...kinda nice. Having someone seem so excited to see her, who'd pick her up and hug her in that bone-crushing way she'd always craved but never had the courage to ask anyone for. She developed a small crush on him as a result. Though, as she did with most things in her life, she tried to ignore it.

Book 2

When Tomoe and Grim were assigned the task of investigating, Irina was mostly occupied with her Mostro Lounge work, feeling it was her way of helping by supplying some kind of income to Ramshackle not entirely dependent on Headmage Crowley. So she went to work, completing her shift, then back to Ramshackle. It didn't leave her with a lot of free time. But she still felt...lonely.

She didn't feel like she was really close to anyone. She was envious of Tomoe for having friends. But at the same time, Irina didn't really want to make any, if that makes sense. It felt like way too much effort for what she expected would be a shallow friendship that ended quickly, like all her other friendships— if it even got to be a friendship at all.

One night she'd just been laying in bed unable to sleep, hearing the distant whispers of her parents fighting at the edges of her mind like usual, and deciding to go outside just to escape the confined room and get some kind of distraction from hearing them. She was incredibly startled hearing someone suddenly call out to her, having been too stuck in her own thoughts to notice him approaching like she usually could. She was honestly scared at first, though mostly as a result of being caught with her guard down, which she usually never was.

But as soon as she properly looked into his eyes, all that fear suddenly seemed to fade away in an instant. She didn't know why, but she suddenly started to feel relaxed in his presence, more so than she usually ever did. And she felt almost sad when he disappeared. But she told herself off for it; that was the first time she'd ever met him after all, and she didn't even know his name. But since he'd said she could call him whatever she wanted...

She'd call him Peridot, after the color of his eyes. 'Peri' for short.

Tomoe's first reaction to the name 'Peri' was to laugh, explaining that it made her think of Perry the Platypus. And once she'd also had the thought, Irina couldn't help but laugh too, 'Peri' being exchanged for 'Perry' in her mind after that point.

Book 3

The influx of new workers after the exams and Irina being close to Tomoe, whom was actively working against him, lead to Azul deciding to fire Irina from her job at the Mostro Lounge. That, and he didn't exactly like her anyway, her timid and in his eyes 'cowardly' behavior reminding him far too much of his younger self for his liking.

She was probably the least distressed out of her, Grim and Tomoe to lose their 'home' at Ramshackle, being so used to nothing in her life ever being the same for very long.

To try to somehow make up for the fact that she was fired from her job, Irina started using the School Cafeteria's kitchen more often, so she'd be able to at least cook for Grim and Tomoe. She felt like if she didn't, she was just a burden on the dorm in general, since food expenses had to cover her, too. And there, she encountered Jamil, the Scarabia Vice Housewarden. She instantly began to see right through his facade. From there she'd end up observing him every time they were both in a room. And he, in turn, did the same. He easily noticed that she seemed tailored her words, moods, reactions and even style of humor to whoever she was talking to at any given moment. And he found he could relate to that— always wearing a mask in front of others— and even admired how well she could adapt the mask to suit the person and context. Once, he asked her about it; how she could so seemingly effortlessly mirror people like that. The question shocked her to her very core. No one had ever noticed that about her before. She didn't really know how to react. So she just said the truth: she had no idea how she did it. she just did. She'd been doing it so long that she'd forgotten when she started, that it was just second nature to her. But she was still surprised he noticed that about her at all, since no one else ever had. And through her revealing more and more just how good at observing others she was, revealed to him everything she'd gathered about him: He was overworked and looking after Kalim against his will, probably due to some larger circumstances that wouldn't just be solved with a long conversation. He was tired of always doing everything everyone else wanted and never being given any support himself. Jamil was shocked that she managed to hit the nail right on the head so well. And also impressed. They started talking more about their observations of other people, and this, for once, seemed to be an area in which she had him beat. She had not only her direct observations, but also a very good sense of intuition and gut feeling, that was rarely ever wrong. But on the whole, their opinions and observations were often quite similar. So they ended up becoming good friends.

She ended up being asked by some Student or other if she'd thought about joining a club yet. She hadn't, not even really knowing which clubs actually existed. And so she decided to take a look to see if anything seemed interesting; she had a lot more free time after being fired from her job anyway. When she saw that there was a 'Gargoyle Appreciation Club' and that it had only one member, she knew instantly who that must be, and decided to join it.

Book 4

She was in a different room from Tomoe and Grim and so didn't try to to escape. And when the others were flung out of the dorm, she was the only one of them who Jamil let stay, even offering to make her his vassal, the Vizier to his Sultan, as a form of 'reward' for being able to recognize his greatness even as he hid it.

(Azul also ends up disliking Irina even more due to now being jealous that she's friends with Jamil while he won't even give Azul the time of day)

When Lilia showed up to give her the postcard, she knew who it must have been from. And so she asked Lilia to wait for a second, rushing into her room to get a box, with a letter attached, which she asked him to give to the sender of the postcard. It was a birthday gift for her friend Peridot; a clay tea pot, its spout designed to look like a little dragon, the handle on the opposite end sculpted into the shape of a scaly tail. The letter contained not only wishes for him to have a happy birthday, but also an explanation of the spout. She wanted to give him a Gargoyle as a gift, but she also wanted to make sure it was an actual Gargoyle, with a clear purpose, rather than just a decorative Grotesque. So she settled on a tea pot! Since it serves as the spout, the 'needs water spout' element of a Gargoyle was cleared, as well.

She wasn't there to see it, but when he got her gift and read the letter, he was so beside himself with joy that for the first time in at least a century, there was sunshine in Briar Valley. Not only was it a birthday gift from his best friend, hand-crafted no less, it was also incredibly thoughtful, proof to him that she'd been listening and paying attention to every single word of all his rambles about his beloved Gargoyles. The next time they met again, before any words could be spoken he quite literally picked her up off the ground and spun her around as a way to say 'thank you'. That was the moment she admitted to herself that she'd fallen in love with him.

He ended up insisting on them drinking at least one cup of tea for all their club meetings after this point, so he got a chance to use it. And he also insisted on the same for every single Housewarden meeting he went to, which he'd started to actually know the times and places of thanks to Irina knowing through Tomoe and telling him. If he'd had any less decorum he would have literally shoved the pot in the face of random people in the halls; he was that happy about it.

Book 5

She took a while to get used to there being people other than her, Tomoe, Grim and the ghosts living in Ramshackle. At first Vil reminded her a bit of how her mother used to be in her calmer moments, and it made her feel uneasy. She was also scared of Rook at first since he kept popping up out of nowhere and she, due to her trauma, gets scared really easily. She's also the one who gives Malleus the tickets to the SDC. For their booth at the cultural festival Irina made a bunch of small clay figurines of Grotesques and then wrote above them the differences between them and Gargoyles, to educate people.

When Tomoe meets Malleus for the first time, she lightly teases Irina, asking "So this is the famous 'Perry the Platypus."' Irina got very embarrassed, and Malleus, eyes wide with surprise, asked if that was meant to refer to him. Irina, face burning with embarrassment, then explains the name and its connection to a certain animated Platypus spy, but also says her nickname for him was actually supposed to be short for Peridot. It ended with Malleus bursting out laughing right then and there, Irina, still embarrassed, saying: "W-was it really that funny?" It then becomes a recurring inside joke of him calling himself 'her platypus friend'.

When Malleus began to fix the stage, not being used to magic and thus a bit scared at first, Irina moved close to his side out of reflex, feeling safer there. It made him really happy to think that for once, not only was there someone who wasn't afraid of him, but she even felt safe around him. Though she became very flustered when she realized she'd been gripping onto his jacket arm.

Book 6

She stays behind at NRC, staying in an unoccupied room at Diasomnia and waiting for Tomoe, Grim and everyone else to come back.

Book 7

I have not yet read Book 7, but! This time it's Irina's time to shine instead of Tomoe! Irina understands why Malleus does what he does, she also hates losing people; that's why she's not going to lose him to his Overblot.

Also, I didn't know where else to include this, but Crewel is her favorite teacher. She wants to do well in his classes and get his approval. She always does her absolute best and asks for clarification from him often to make sure she's doing it right, so an accident doesn't happen, hence why Potionology is her best subject. He praises her careful nature, and it makes her absolutely soar with joy. There's nothing that makes her happier than when she does well and gets a good grade and he pats her head and calls her 'good girl'- which she is one of very few students to hear often. She wishes he was her father. She's come very close to accidentally calling him 'dad' multiple times.

And on the topic of me technically having 2 'Yuu's, here is which events Irina would go to. If there is a Story Event not on this list, assume Tomoe went:

The Phantom Bride: Love at First Fright Twisted Halloween: Terror is Trending A Firelit Sky: Over the Sands The Harveston Sledathon Camp Vargas 2: The Art of Survival Sam's New Year Sale: 2024 (EN server) Glorious Masquerade: Let the Bell of Solace Ring Fairy Gala: Operation Illusive Evolution Twisted Tsumderland 2 Tapis Rouge

More sprites:

Bonus: 'Family' & Friends

Anthony Barret & Diana Barret/Popova

Clover the Plush & 'Clover' the 'imaginary friend'

[seth-shitposts]

Working on trying to throw SOMETHING over on ao3 (it will either be the next concept dump for defectors, the first concept dump for SoFS&V, OR a once shot wip that's sitting in our docs-)

But for now we're dumping stuff we wrote for a friend about defectors au >:]

Enjoy Ezra & Kallus-

---

The first 6-8 months Ezra, while seeing and acknowledging that he has some definite safety and security around Kallus, doesn't take to him right away. The first month or so, his anger is not quiet at all. Kallus is careful to keep his patience in check, and doesn't hold anything over Ezra because he's very aware of how hard everything is on Ezra. Him reacting with anger in return will only serve to ensure Ezra never trusts him. Kallus is acutely aware that if he wants Ezra to trust him and feel safe around him, he has to feel safe enough to express the intense emotions and distress he's experiencing in the only ways he knows how.

Kallus had prepared himself for it to take much longer, but when Ezra started calming down and being more at ease around Kallus, he figured that how he chose to handle the situation worked. 

After working the situation out with Mira & Ephraim, Kallus took the time to explain it to Ezra and did so as often as Ezra asked. And that seemed to help in putting Ezra at ease. Whatever amount of dislike Ezra had died slowly over the course of the first 8 months. 

The first time Kallus comforted Ezra from a nightmare, it had been a few months into the first year. Kallus was up working late and his attention was immediately grabbed from the sound of muffled crying from the next room. Could he have ignored it? Returned to his work? it would have been possible, but he didn't allow it. Not with how this still new sensation of his chest breaking in two demanding his focus. It felt wrong not to comfort the child that is just starting to bring himself to not glare at him. 

Kallus quickly heated a blanket for Ezra as he gathered a few other things for him. Water (both drinking and in a warm bowl with a soft rag), one of the fruits he knows the kid likes, and a gentle powerlight. By the time Kallus is finished gathering the few items, the blanket has been warmed.

He gently knocks on Ezra’s door and asks if he's permitted to enter. He's taken small efforts to let Ezra know that anything is allowed to happen at his pace. Boundaries are where he wants to have them. Nothing is demanded of him. 

The other side quiets for a moment. Just as Kallus thinks that Ezra is pretending to be asleep for him to leave, he hears a quiet yes. 

Kallus balances everything carefully as he slips in through the door and has it slide shut behind him. 

“I know none of this will fix the cause of your distress, but it will help in it not be as intense.” Kallus sets things down on the night stand and let's Ezra feel the blanket before asking permission to help wrap it around him. Kallus has seen tears of anger and frustration on the kid's face, but tears of sadness have been kept hidden from him. This is the first time Kallus has been allowed by Ezra to offer comfort. And he honestly isn't entirely sure what to do. 

He's taken advice from local caregivers and has been relying heavily on it. There was one time he asked a fellow officer for advice and what he was given left a sour taste in his mouth. Tseebo and the Bridger Parents have been where he's asked most questions. 

Kallus is barely even on the edge of the mattress, more so just resting his hip against it as he gently speaks, offering the bottle of water and explaining that it will help ease the aches on his head, asking if Ezra would like to try and eat, being declined, asking if Ezra would like him to soothe his irritate skin with the warm rag, receiving a wordless nod and reaching for the rag. 

As Kallus is wringing out the rag, Ezra scoots over and shifts his gaze from Kallus to the now open space. Kallus hesitantly moves farther onto the bed, allowing himself to be more comfortable as he eases away the ache and distress from Ezra. It doesn't take long before Ezra begins to duck his head, eyelids growing heavy. 

Taking a reluctantly breath, Kallus helps Ezra lay back and get comfortable as he begins to sing the lullaby the Bridgers taught him, one that Tseebo explained to him is a lothal tradition and folklore and its history and significance. 

Something about Kallus singing the song to Ezra erases a tension that Kallus hadn't realized the kid had been holding onto the entire time. It takes only a few moments for Ezra to be eased into a gentle sleep. Seeing the kid so tired, recovering from whatever had woken him up, and so vulnerable brings a heat and rush of tears to Kallus’s own face. He swallows before blinking the feeling away as he tucks Ezra in, swaddling the still toasty blanket around him and brushing a few stray locks out of his face.

Kallus leaves the gentle glow of the light cell on and next to the half empty bottle of water. He waits a few moments at the door before letting himself slip out quietly, wanting to make sure the kid was lulled to a deeper sleep and won't wake up again. 

This pattern repeats several times within the first 8 months. The first night Ezra seeks Kallus out is after Kallus had stopped an officer from reprimanded Ezra wrongfully. No harm fell to him, but Ezra was still shaken over it. And Kallus still torn between wanting to rip into the officer himself and feeling as though he shouldn't have turned his back for two minutes. 

Kallus was up late again, working on more of the Bridger suggested cases when he heard a knock at his door, accompanied by a request from Ezra to see him. Kallus immediately shuts the datapad off and puts it away as he grants Ezra permission. The door slides open to reveal Ezra, who still clutches onto that lothwolf plush and tries to hide his misty eyes with it while simultaneously searching for Kallus. 

“I couldn't sleep, can I lay down with you?” 

Kallus nods, barely able to trust his own voice before learning his throat. “of course, Ezra.” 

Ezra doesn't waste a second crossing the room, as if Kallus would change his mind if he took too long. As Kallus moves over to make sure Ezra has plenty of room, Ezra chooses to latch onto Kallus rather than take the space made for him. Making himself situated, Kallus dims the light as Ezra buries his face against Kallus’s throat. And Kallus can feel as the tears finally slip from him. Holding Ezra reassuringly tight in his arms, Kallus promises that he won't ever let anyone hurt Ezra. That he's right here for him. Kallus doesn't let himself slip away into sleep until he's certain Ezra has first. It's much harder for him to fight the urge to sleep than it usually is, but the gentle snoring from Ezra finally pushes him over the edge of unconsciousness. 

—

As time goes on, it's much more frequent for Ezra to ask Kallus to help him fall asleep. To hold him or comfort him from bad dreams. Ezra gets the best sleep he's had since before the raid, Kallus makes him feel safe and he doesn't have any nightmares when he's near Kallus. And Kallus never turns him away. It just becomes their routine. As Ezra gets older, he doesn't ask as frequently, but still on occasion. 

At one point, when Ezra is around 10 or 11, he wakes up and focuses on Kallus, making sure that his caregiver is undoubtedly asleep. 

After being certain, Ezra whispers, “I know that you have a secret. You don't want to tell me or my parents because you don't want us to be too excited. But I know you're fighting for their early release. I hope when you win, that you'll leave the Empire and stay with us. I understand now that you think the empire wants what's best, but I want you to understand that it isn't. That there's better. Please, Ally.” 

—

In his free time, Kallus likes to make repairs and do basic maintenance to droids. When Kallus brings home one of the MSE droids, Ezra asks him questions about Everything and Kallus gives every question a full response as he updates the damaged droid. 

Ezra asks a lot of questions in general. Sometimes catches Kallus off guard. 

—

There was one point early on when Ezra was mad at everything and angry over everything. So much so that he really tried pushing Kallus’s buttons. Wanted him to react. And just as Ezra thought he was about to, Kallus took a deep, calming breath and asked Ezra to help him cook. 

It was random and out of no where. Ezra thought it might be a trap of some sort because of just how terrible some of the things he said to Kallus were. 

But the entire time, Kallus simply taught him a couple recipes from scratch, guiding Ezra gently on the process. And as they cooked, Ezra felt his frustration and rage slowly leave his body. He felt much better, but also a bit guilty over lashing out on Kallus. 

“I'm sorry for saying all those mean things to you.” 

“They did hurt. But I know you're also hurting right now and you're mad at the world and I'm not going to say that you aren't allowed to be.” 

“Why did we start cooking?” 

“When I was around your age, I also used to lash out. I lashed out a lot at my own caregiver. But they never lashed back or sent me away from them. They would simply say that it's time to cook and we would make something together. It never fixed my problems, but something about it made me feel better.” 

— 

Kallus has one of the strongest immune systems. Surprising with how poorly he takes care of himself. Morad has lectured him time and time again about taking better care of himself or that he has too much work on his plate or that there's any number of things that he isn't being careful about. Kallus was a sick child but his immune system turned around as he grew into his teen years and joined the academy. 

On paper, Kallus is 32. On paper, Kallus hasn't had so much as a cold in his time under the empire. Both are untrue, to some degree. Kallus is around 28 and he's had small fits of illness that he always concealed and powered through to work. But they were always manageable. Kallus hasn't been severely sick in over 14 years. 

Until today. Kallus tried working through it, concealing it. Ezra didn't know how to act. He tried saying that Kallus should rest. Kallus simply gave a weak smile to the 12 year old and told him that he'll be fine by lunch. Tseebo cringed away from him for the first time in years before rushing to stop Kallus from tripping. Before Tseebo could suggest that Kallus stay home, Kallus explained that there's an important meeting he needs to be a part of concerning the mistreatment of Lothalite citizens. 

Kallus successfully does his part for the meeting, but puts in a request for a break afterwards. Minister Tua stumbles across him and overrides it from a request for a short break to a “leaving and going home”. By the time she found him, he was violently ill and she demanded to know from the fellow officers who let Kallus remain present until he got this bad. That someone should have sent this poor man home hours ago. Kallus can't even muster the will or ability to argue.

Kallus was certain that the contact he had on file had been the Sumars, but when Ezra arrives, by himself, Kallus isn't even able to bring himself to question or worry. Everything spins and blurs too much for him to focus on anything. 

Ezra takes care of Kallus just as Kallus had taken care of him when he had been equally as sick. 

-----------

That's mostly all for now.

Mmm notes:

Kallus lied about his age to get into the academy. He was 14 when he enlisted, around 18 when he graduated, and around 19 when Onderon happened. And he was 23 on the night of the bridger raid with Ezra having been 7.

I'm looking forward to writing out how Kallus realizes just how young he was when he enlisted when he sees Ezra being taken care of and protected by the ghost crew. Like he knew on some level and realized that earlier on as he was raising Ezra, but it hits him like a freight train that he was Ezra’s age when he lied to get into the academy and Ezra is still just so young.

It had always been one of the main reasons why Kallus fought so hard for Ezra to not be enlisted as a child when the empire tried to mandate it.

--idea of kallus lying about his age was inspired by something @heart-of-a-rebel16 spoke about :]