#haven’t had time to read all this yet but i’m excited for the next chapters!

[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

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer!Fem Reader

Summary: Venus goes on live after rehearsal and lets her fans take a glimpse into what her and Joe's nights together are like.

Chapter 24: Mr. Perfect

#Track9 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

TW: implied smut, language, haters.

WC: about 2k

Part 1 🖤

₊˚ପ ⊹ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ꕥ

@musicbyvenus has started an Instagram Live! Come join!

“Hello, all you beautiful people. How are my babes doing tonight? I haven’t done this in a hot minute, so be patient with me. I had a really long day and thought the best way to unwind would be for me to unload onto my darling fans.” The woman chuckled to herself while watching the viewer count grow by hundreds per minute.

Tell us all about your day bestie!

How are rehearsals going?

Are you gonna release the set list yet?

How’s Joe doing?

Where’s Joe?!?

“Wow these are coming in fast. I’m going to try and answer as many of your questions as possible, but thank you guys for just being here with me. I know I tend to go a bit awol with my public appearances, so I appreciate everyone here. Rehearsals are going great, I’m very happy with how the show is looking.”

 @MarsOfficial Im expecting a least two Hamilton songs while I’m in attendance 

“You always expect so much of me; you’re starting to sound like my mother, Y/Bff.”

@MarsOfficial then maybe you should start listening to me

A light-hearted giggle makes its way into the air as she reads her best friend’s comment. “I always listen to you!”

@MarsOfficial fat liesssss

“Y'all listen; the only reason I am in a relationship right now is because Y/Bff and Riana, two of my best friends, literally pushed us together. None of this would’ve happened without them.”

“What wouldn’t have happened without who?” A deep voice coming from behind her says.

OMG ITS JOEY

Joe said shit i have to work lol

PLEASE ASK HIM TO STAY

ON GOD HES SO HOT

I DON'T KNOW WHY I expected him to walk in shirtless, but I’m kinda disappointed 

IS HE COMING TO THE LA SHOW???

“I was talking about how we got together.” Y/n peaks behind herself to watch the quarterback snicker while fishing through their kitchen cabinets.

“Oh you mean when your friends pretended to be my ex to make you jealous? Yea they were a great help.” Joe rolled his eyes while grabbing a snack and a bottle of water. “I’ll have you know, I was fully capable of doing that on my own.”

@Riri.intl24 why is he lying, he had almost two years to make a move and DIDNT

“Riana begs to differ. Can you grab me-“ Y/n’s cut off by her own water and snack being dangled in front of her. “Thank you.”

WHAT A GENTLEMAN 

UGH I WANT ONE

IS THAT A CLIFF BAR

Y/n we’re judging you so hard right now

Joe takes a seat next to her but slightly out of camera. “Of course, and tell Riana I was trying to time it right.”

“Ok Mr. Time-Is-Of-The-Essence.” She smirked, then turned back to her phone. “Why are you people roasting my cliff bar?”

@MarsOfficial because you once said it tasted like good dirt then proceeded to inhale one

“I’m going to ignore that. Let’s answer some questions! Yes, Joey’s going to be at the LA show. I am not releasing the set list, but I do have an announcement regarding it. I’ve decided that my show will be about 2 hours long and each show will have 3-4 different surprise songs. I’m very excited about that. If yall have been keeping up on X, then you’d know the first show’s theme is ‘Slumber Party’. Unfortunately I can’t kick anyone out if they don’t dress up-“

ARE YOU ACTUALLY GOING TO PERFORM HAMILTON SONGS?

Is Walk Like This on the Set List

“Fantastic.”

THE NERVE

“You are not anyone, you have to dress up.” She pointed at the man.

YESSS SIS

You should bring him on stage with you!

WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

Joey shook his head and sighed, “I was joking babe, kinda.”

“Uh huh sureeee. Whoever asked about Walk Like This, this answer is 100%. I absolutely love that song and the choreo, ugh amazing. I can’t wait to perform it.”

What song is Joe most excited for?

What songs will you absolutely NOT be singing?

Is ‘The One’ on the no list?

“I don’t even have to ask him which one he wants to see the most. Joey?”

“Crazy for You.” He smiled.

“See, he’s extremely predictable.”

scripted

“Ok hold on, I also like what you did with Tell Me You Love Me.” He so kindly added.

“Why thank you kind sir.”

@lahjay10_ gross

We love a supportive boyfriend 

Husband Material

Get married please

ADOPT ME

Not all of Team Shiesty being in the comments

It's in their dating contract

“Yall are too funny.” Y/n looks over at Joe to see him with his head thrown back laughing. “What is it?”

“Your accent.” He coughed out.

“Joey, I don't have an accent.” She pouts.

Nahhh we know a southern belle when we hear one

Someone forgot she’s from Georgia

You’d think it’d get weaker the longer she stays up north

orrrr maybe she still has it because she doesn't actually live in Ohio

“Yes you do, but don’t worry I think it’s absolutely adorable.”

“I can’t with you.” She rolled her eyes, but the smile spreading across her cheeks told him otherwise.

@MarsOfficial I KNEW IT 

@MarsOfficial I knew he had a thing for your country shit

“Aight, we are getting off task! Is there a No list? Technically yes, but no ‘The One’ is not on it. And before any of you start, Joseph, please tell the people how you feel about ‘The One’ once and for all.” Y/n turns the phone so the fans have a full picture of him.

“I feel like people have been waiting and praying for this moment.” He chuckles brushing his fingers through his hair. 

CAUSE WE HAVEEEEE

TELL USSSS

WE NEED TO KNOW

He raises his right hand. “Ok, everyone listening. I, Joe Burrow of the Cincinnati Bengals.” 

“Oh my god.”

“I’m trying to deliver an address here, princess.” He said sternly. She pretended to zip her mouth shut and throw away the key.

Stop making me feel singleeee

“Ok where were we, right. I, Joe Burrow of the Cincinnati Bengals, solemnly swear that Track Nine is one of my actual favorite songs that Y/n has put out. Now all the commotion stops here, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.” As he finishes, they lock eyes and simultaneously burst into fits of laughter.

I knew it wasn’t that serious

We were clickbaited

THEY FOOLED US

Social Media is the devil

@MarsOfficial I tried to tell you

Her next project is gonna go so crazy

Hiiii from Canada

Instead of turning the phone back towards his girlfriend, Joey gently cuffs her waist and pulls her over to himself so she can continue her job. Then rests his hand over her shoulder.

Yoooo if you couldn’t see the height difference then, you def see it now🤭

Ugh they look so damn good together 

Yall should do an whole day in the life

What happened to not liking cameras Joey???

“Okay guys, I think I’m gonna take a few more questions then call it a night.”

Noooo

Has Joe seen the entire show?

Booooo

Yes get off so Joe can get off from work and see his real girl

European fans here!!!

What is your ideal date night?

“I know I know, but our dinner’s almost here so we gotta wrap this up. No, he has not seen the whole show. I need my man to be surprised too. More importantly, he has no clue how Crazy for Me is being set.” She smirked as she felt his hand move down to her thigh.

Oh they gon wrap something else up tonight too

“Oh but does my mind wonder.” He bites his lip, no longer able to pay attention to anything but the woman on his right.

Omg the sexual tension is brewing

His hand continues to stroke her thigh until his phone goes off. “Fuck, food’s here.” He gets up and rounds the couch, but before he completely passes her their dark eyes meet and he makes a quick stop. 

@MarsOfficial I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, they are literally CRAZY for each other

Dream vacation??

I’m sorry why can’t a man look at me like that

She was right about this not lasting very long

Shiiiiii I wonder how long HE lasts👀

@lahjay10_ yalls comments are getting out of hand

A strong but gentle hand lightly pulls her head back and they smile before he connects his lips to hers for a shy but sweet kiss, then he pecks her forehead and leaves the frame. 

AGAIN A MAN LIKE THAT PLEASE

GOD WHOEVER IS LISTENING THANK YOU

That looked mad forced

You make me feel so single🤧

If you weren’t famous, what would you be doing?

Y/n quickly clears her throat before looking back at her comments. 

@lahjay10_ oh god, get that off of my phone

She’s so flusteredddd

Girl we understand whewwww

“Uno, go away. Okay um, speed round. Dream vacation is definitely Greece. Ideal date night depends on how we’re feeling, but you can’t go wrong with a nice restaurant then coming home and getting in the hot tub. If I weren’t famous what would I be doing?”

Joe Burrow.

The man right behind you

That one Cincinnati quarterback maybe🤭

regular shit because they wouldn't even know each other

yall are unhinged 

Her eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend setting up their dinner. “Hmmmm yes to the first three.”

QUEEN

@Riri.intl24 Girl focus!

@MarsOfficial Ridiculous.

“Ok but for real if I wasn’t famous I guess I’d be trying to put myself through school.” She shrugged.

“Nope, you’d be in your residency program like you’re supposed to because I’d take care of everything. Now sign off of there so I can have my dessert.” He stated from the background.

“We didn’t order any dessert.”

Joe darkly smiled, “we didn’t have to. Everything I want is already here.”

HOT SHIT

OMG

thats so scripted🥱

I THREW THE PHONE

MSKSKFYCYHC

GIRL GO

“Fuck me.” She says under her breath, then reaches for her phone. 

“I’m trying.” 

SCREAMING

@lahjay10_ imma clown his ass for this so much

@MarsOfficial Venus you need to move faster

@Riri.intl24 Esa comida no se comerá pronto

(translation: that food is not getting eaten anytime soon)

“Jesus, bye babes. Love yall, and I can’t wait to meet you soon.” She stands, blows the camera a quick kiss, and turns off the phone.

As she walks toward the dining room, he meets her half way and backs her up against a wall. “Fucking finally, I’ve wanted you since I first walked in.” 

His hands go straight to her soft waist and his lips meet hers with an intense fervor. Breathless moans are smothered against his lips and her fingers tangle in his hair. “Wha-what about the food?” 

Joe grips her ass, his lips pull off of hers, and they begin to suck purple bruises on her neck and behind her ear. “You always say it tastes better after it's reheated anyway.” 

He pecks her lips and smiles at his handy work: her lips swollen and red, eyes burning with a dark desire, neck glistening with a shiny magenta hue and knees trembling from the pressure. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her face heats up as she takes in the sight of her lover with a matching set of glossy lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anything, and I’m about to show you exactly how much.” He smirks then throws her over his shoulder and takes off towards the bedroom. 

“Joey!”

₊˚ପ ⊹ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ꕥ

a/n: part two this weekend♡

<<< Ch. 23: Tour Countdown | Part Two >>>

[chrollogy]

i. MYSTERY MAN IN PARIS

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: ii. His name? Miya Atsumu | series masterlist

synopsis: Spending some quiet, alone time at a luxury bar in Paris, you didn’t expect to make conversation with the mystery man that’s been eyeing you from across the room, let alone take up on his brazen offer to be your distraction for the night.

chapter content warning: pop artist!reader, mentioned co-artist!semi eita, media gossip, alcohol use, intoxicated characters, explicit smut (mdni), unprotected s*x, brief cum eating, drunken one night stand, implied multiple orgasms, use of y/n for the article, not beta read.

word count: 3.6k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. weep woop first chapter !!! eeeep i’m so so excited to begin this series w u all <3

10 PM. Paris, France.

Surrounded by warm hues of the dimly lit luxury bar adorned with lavish furnishings in deep colours of reds, and browns, it exuded with utmost sophistication—a complete opposite of your inebriated state right now. Albeit, not completely wasted, you were surely on your way there; for now, your head seemed lighter, and you cheeks burned

The jazz music that spilled from its speakers had calmed your nerves a bit, and you were able to take your mind off things that bothered you—or so you convinced yourself. Sat atop a crimson plush barstool with an intoxicating beverage decorating the mahogany countertop, you let out a defeated sigh as your eyes scanned the latest entertainment news headline with your name tied with yet another gossip article about an alleged relationship.

A cool glow of blue casted over your features as you read over the contents of the article from your phone, each descent further into the paragraphs almost had you rolling eyes at how foolish it all sounded; you were surprised tabloids were able to pull out a full fledged article with such little evidence into your personal love life, let alone credibility but it surprised you even more at how the media consumed these gossip articles as though they don’t have a history of inaccuracy.

It made you dizzy—both the article, and your drink.

That’s right. The media had somewhat twisted the whole scenario into you, and Semi apparently dating just because tabloids had seen the two of you hanging out a couple of times like normal friends do.

Sure, those leaked photos were of you, and him hugging but claiming that you two were dating based on that evidence alone was a stretch. Clearly, these people didn’t have anything better to do than air out your ‘relationship’ for publicity.

It didn’t help how both yours, and Semi’s agency solely relied on the official statements they had put out, and wished for the best because clearly that didn’t stop the media from brewing new stories every now, and then.

They thought the most sensible move was to lie low, and gradually let it fade on its own; it was wishful thinking considering how the media was. But it's too late now, some still think you’re dating Semi, and that was beyond your control. You had other matters to worry about.

You shook your head, placing your phone face down on the wooden countertop before taking a swig of your drink—you were spending some quiet alone time for two reasons: 1) To celebrate another completed world tour which successfully ended two days ago, and 2) To take your mind off those articles. Or maybe those weren’t even the reasons why you were here. 

Nonetheless, you appreciated the lack of company—being surrounded by a full staff didn’t always feel like the luxury people deemed it to be, and not to mention, the media’s watchful gaze, at least inside this luxury bar, you weren’t being watched. Or so you thought.

For thirty minutes now, you’ve noticed a foreign gaze so intense it could burn through the side of your face—that’s four rounds of drinks; from the very first drink you ordered all the way to the one that’s currently in your hand, a man has been not-so-subtly staring at you.

At first, paparazzi came to mind but you haven’t noticed him pull out a camera to take unsolicited pictures of you. Instead, he remained in his seat, casually taking swigs of his umber drink. Due to the dimly lit place, you couldn’t really make out most of his features, though, his golden strands stood out beneath the warm lighting of the bar, not to mention the casual shirt he wore with a few top buttons loose. Not that you cared or anything.

Maybe he was a fan? With all the alcohol fogging your mind, you couldn’t really think of any other plausible reasons as to why he’d be staring at you so intensely. Nonetheless, you just hoped the man left it at that, you’d rather have him stare than walk up to you and—

“What’s a pretty lady like ya doin’ here all alone?”

His dulcet voice as smooth as velvet cut through the faint jazz music, his sentence had a little drag to it—most likely from the alcohol—but purely coherent; you noticed the slight purr in his tone, sweet as honey yet equally dangerous, not to mention his accent. It wasn’t hard to pull off a polite smile, after all, you’ve been doing it since the start of your career but only on days where you felt you needed to mask your emotions a bit.

Swivelling your barstool to face the man, you were met with his gaze—caramel was the word to describe his eyes, saccharine, and sticky enough to rope you into the depths of it. You’ve never seen such alluring eyes before. Was that your heart talking or the alcohol? He looked to be around your age with a very notable physique, as though he was some kind of athlete.

“I’m sorry, I’m not really interested . .” Sure, the mystery man had piqued your interest but you were better than this, right? You were just hoping to spend a nice, quiet evening alone. The blonde let out a soft chuckle,

“‘M jus’ tryna make conversation. No hard feelings on that one.”

Though, despite your better judgement, you figured simply talking to a stranger wouldn’t stain your reputation easily. Plus, the thought of making conversation with a complete stranger—someone who didn’t know of your fame—felt oddly refreshing, as though you were just a normal person. Or you were just drunk, and every decision felt right.

“Make conversation, hm? Well, by all means, amuse me.” The blonde took that as an invite to sit at the vacant barstool next to you, his feet rested on the wooden floor beneath, putting you into perspective of how tall he actually was. “Well, we can't have one without proper introductions, can we? Atsumu.” Atsumu’s body faced you, his right elbow rested atop the mahogany countertop with a relaxed smile painted on his face.

You returned his greeting with your name which earned a cliché ‘pretty name for a pretty woman’ from the blonde—please, you’ve heard it all before, if Atsumu’s goal was to woo you, he’d have to try harder than textbook flirting.

“So, what’re ya doin’ here all alone?” “To take my mind off certain things—to distract myself.”

The corners of Atsumu’s lips curled up, smiling to himself as he swirled the umber-coloured liquid inside the crystalline glass. “If you want,” The blonde started before taking a sip of his drink, his eyes peered over the glass—a glint of mischief, and intoxication clouded his hooded gaze, “Take yer mind off things, huh? I can do that. Use me as a distraction.” You didn’t even notice that his full attention was on you until the sound of a distinct thud from the glass in his hands reeled you back to reality—it sat empty atop the wooden countertop.

Maybe it was the rush of excitement that washed over your body, igniting a rebellious spark within you; in the world of fame where many put you on a pedestal, it was always ‘don’t do this’ and ‘don’t do that’, voices from all around have always told you what you could, and couldn’t do for the sake of your image. You’ve always played by the book, followed every essential etiquette there was but you’d be lying if you didn’t at least fantasise what it’d feel like to act a little reckless.

Or maybe it was the way his honeyed gaze stared at you with such want; you instantly knew it was genuine because Atsumu recognised you for yourself only, not that faux interest everyone else had just so they could get a taste of one of Japan’s biggest artist, and the fame tied with your name.

Or maybe it was the alcohol finally taking full control of your senses—rational, and irrational thoughts became one, right, and wrong could no longer be deciphered. And every decision you could think of just seemed like there were no dire consequences to face after, only a pounding headache.

Sceptical of his tempting offer, you narrowed your eyes at him; surely, it was too good to be true, there had to be some kind of catch, “Really, now? And what do you get out of it?” Atsumu shrugged, keeping his eyes locked onto yours, “Same thing as ya—pleasure.” You blinked at him, the sober part of your mind screamed at you at how stupid this was but you couldn’t really bring yourself to listen.

The next few moments became a blur, you vaguely remembered paying for the last round of your drink, and bidding the doorman a good bye before hitting the streets of Paris in a haze—all with a person you just met hot behind your heels. The soles of your shoes echoed against cobblestone pavement beneath as you both drunkenly staggered along; shops were already closed, and the streets were illuminated by the warm glow of lamp posts.

At that moment, it had felt like you, and Atsumu were the only ones there—away from every form of attention you could think of, away from the cameras, away from the media.

The blonde had his arm loosely circled around your waist as you both fell into a drunken step, his face buried into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin as he whispered sweet nothings. You, on the other hand, found every single word that came out of his mouth hilarious despite not making jokes. From the outside, the two of you seemed like a sugary, lovesick couple basking in each other’s presence but in reality, you were strangers.

The walk back to Atsumu’s hotel felt oddly long considering your inebriated state; though, it didn’t help ease the blossoming desire pooled between your legs—the area grew uncomfortably warm with every minute passed, and just the thought of what’s to come next had you wishing you were already naked beneath Atsumu.

A small sigh of relief escaped your lips upon passing through the grand glass doors to Atsumu’s hotel; you debated between taking the stairs or the elevator but the blonde was already dragging you to the latter. As the two of you stepped inside the elevator, a deafening silence engulfed your ears, only both your heaving breathing was heard. It was only a matter of time before one decided to pounce on the other, the pressing weight of sexual tension pushing you both to your limits.

Atsumu’s fingers dug into the cool metal of the handrail behind his back, foot impatiently tapping against the marbled floor while he stared at the level indicator. He was on the tenth floor—it was currently on the fifth floor. God, could it go any slower? Sixth. Seventh. Eighth. Ninth. And Tenth.

The two of you were out of there before the doors could even fully open, eagerly squeezing through the narrow space just to save time. Atsumu had one arm looped around your waist while the other deftly dug into his pockets in search of his key card.

713—the golden numbers plastered on his door.

Standing in the middle of the hallway in front the door to his room, the blonde let out low, drunken giggles as your lips sinfully planted open-mouthed kisses up, up, up the column of his neck—each searing kiss on his sensitive skin had Atsumu pitching a tent beneath the fabric of his pants, “So—mhm! So eager, aren’t ya?” A drawled out moan escaped his lips as you nibbled at his ears, his fingers gripping your clothes a little tighter.

God, you were an absolute menace. The way your soft lips felt against Atsumu’s skin almost had his knees giving up right then, and there—not to mention the alcohol in his system which made him more susceptible to your distractions. Though, you weren’t any better, the smell of vanilla, and musk from Atsumu’s cologne practically had you intoxicated with lust. If not for the fear of getting caught in the act, Atsumu would’ve taken you right then, and there.

After a good minute of fumbling with the key card with you clung onto his side like a koala, the door finally chimed, and Atsumu wasted no time to drag both of you inside, the door slamming shut behind him.

His lips were on yours not even a minute after you stepped foot into his room—it was messy but full of desire.

The taste of expensive whiskey, and mint lingered on your tongue at the flavour of his eager lips; Atsumu’s mouth moved with such haste that you almost couldn’t keep up. The kiss felt absolutely sinful, a sloppy mix of tongue, and lips to knock yourselves breathless.

The two of you slowly stumbled back onto the king sized bed, lips not breaking contact until Atsumu’s clothed back hit the ivory sheets beneath. The blonde landed with a soft thump, elbows propped on the soft mattress as he looked up at you with hooded eyes—lips parted, and chest heaving from the lack of oxygen.

You took this opportunity to tease Atsumu a little, sensually peeling off articles of clothing until only your undergarments remained.

Atsumu cursed under his breath, head lolled to the side while biting down on his lip, he took in every dip, and curve of your body, golden eyes shamelessly raking your physique up, and down. Feeling left behind, he eagerly stripped off his clothes as well, leaving your eyes to wander anywhere, and everywhere.

If you were being honest, you didn’t know where to look—his chiselled torso? those sinful, beefy thighs that could probably crush you? the monstrosity between his legs that leaked like there’s no tomorrow? It felt like you were in The Louvre, and didn’t know which famed painting to focus on.

Atsumu looked absolutely divine; you wanted to wrap your fingers around his cock, and feel its hefty weight on your palm but you also wanted to lick a long stripe up his abs, letting your tongue glide over each muscle.

“Well? Didn’t I say ya can use me as a distraction? ‘S all yours.” Atsumu shifted up the mattress before lying on his back, sprawled out in all his naked glory. Two taps of his fingers on his upper thigh, and you were on top of the blonde like a feral animal—all thanks to the liquid courage; you didn’t even know you had this side of you until Atsumu brought it out.

As you straddled his thick thighs, the blonde’s hands immediately went to your bra, pulling down on the fabric to expose your breasts. You moaned as the night air hit your sensitive nipples, hands opting to rest on Atsumu’s shoulders for a sense of stability. With his deft fingers working on your chest by groping, and teasing your nipples, you threw your head back at the sensation, a small moan of his name lingered in the air.

“Ah—Atsumu!”

He couldn’t help himself, really, the view of your clothed chest just drove him up the wall. But Atsumu didn’t stop there, he was greedy; popping a nipple into his mouth, his tongue worked wonders on your sensitive nipple, hands travelling up from your bare waist to skilfully unhook your bra. He moaned against your skin, sending blissful vibrations throughout your feverish body. Oh, Atsumu’s lips felt heavenly, it was clear he knew how to pleasure but all you really wanted right now was his cock.

“Wait—wait, wait,” You peeled the blonde away from your chest, your breaths heavy as you stared down at him, “As much as I enjoy your mouth on my body, I need your cock, Atsumu.” He could only give a loose smile at your straightforwardness before giving you a look that said ‘go ahead, and put it in.’

Without wasting more time, the bed creaked beneath your weight as you moved around to remove the last article of clothing on you—your panties. Atsumu’s eyes were glued to your sopping entrance; the way it shamelessly soaked the fabric of your panties.

Fuck, he wondered what you’d taste like on his tongue. Maybe another time. Planting the soles of your bare feet on the soft mattress, you lowered your cunt on his dick, a unison of hisses filled your ears at the raw contact of one another.

Atsumu’s hands rested on the globes of your ass, squeezing, and groping at the fat while you slowly inched down his hard cock. “So tight . .” He moaned, his nails dug into your bare skin which were sure to leave crescent-shaped marks. Atsumu had to momentarily close his eyes at the feel of your velvety walls around him—god, he hasn’t had pussy this good since forever that it almost made him cry. You just hugged him so, so well as though your cunt was solely made for him.

As you bottomed out, you stayed still for a while to adjust to Atsumu’s cock—you may be extremely sought after but that didn’t mean your schedule had room for some dick.

The blonde’s hands roamed all over your naked body as you let out deep breaths; they travelled up, up, up until they cupped your jaw, and a chaste kiss was placed on your lips. Atsumu felt you clench around him as a response to the kiss, a sense of pride blossoming in his chest.

Starting off with a slow bounce of your hips, Atsumu threw his head back at the sudden rush of pleasure, strings of colourful curses tumbling past his rosy lips. Though, you weren’t any better, his cock was slightly curved so it immediately kissed your sweet, sweet spot repeatedly. It felt a bit embarrassing that tears were already forming in your eyes but oh you loved how Atsumu’s cock made you feel like you were beyond cloud nine.

“Please go faster—ngh!” The blonde was practically purring with desperation, his honeyed voice dripped with such want that it had you clenching around him. Who were you to deny yourselves of more pleasure?

Picking up the pace, sounds of loud skin slapping, and wet squelches reverberated through the walls of Atsumu’s hotel room—you just hoped they were thick enough to at least muffle your moans. He didn’t hesitate to guide you up, and down his cock as the need to cum grew more, and more. Soon enough, Atsumu’s hips eagerly met your own mid thrust, balls harshly slapping up against your ass. You moaned at the burn it left on your sticky skin, a cherry on top to pair the sexual stimulation.

Pleasure ate away at your sanity, sweat lined your forehead, and your leg muscles ached from the repeated movements but you couldn’t care less—all you needed right now was to cum around Atsumu’s cock.

“So—so close! Atsumu—aah!” “Y-yeah? Me too.”

One of his hands travelled to your front to rub tight, fast circles on your clit, it completely caught you off guard, and almost had you losing your balance if it wasn’t for Atsumu’s other hand holding you in place. An icy shiver kissed up your spine at the feel of his digit weighing heavy against your sensitive bud; you knew you weren’t going to last long, and Atsumu noticed that too with the way your cunt spasmed around his dick.

A loud curse slipped past your lips, eyes shut tight, and head hung low in complete bliss as Atsumu slapped your clit. Oh, he just loved to see you fall apart from his cock, and hands. With sweet nothings whispered dangerously close to your ear, it didn’t take long for you to come undone, vision turning as white as the walls of the hotel room.

Atsumu’s caramel eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your tight grip around him, your warm cum sinfully coating his cock. He rode out your orgasm by slowly fucking your hips up, and down his cock, his digit now rubbing soothing circles on your swollen clit. As desperate as he was to blow his load, he needed to make sure you were satisfied—after all, Atsumu was the one who initiated to be your distraction for tonight.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! ‘M gonna cum!” Hastily pulling your hips off his cock—which earned a low hiss from you—Atsumu furiously fisted himself, his palm easily gliding up, and down the length of his cum-coated cock; your pearlescent essence glistened around it.

What a view. 

Arching your back, you angled your chest towards him—a wordless invitation to cum on your breasts; Atsumu immediately understood, and aimed his cock at you. Ropes, and ropes of hot, thick cum painted your bare chest as the blonde let out whimpers of your name, his hand still vigorously fucking his cock to empty out every last drop.

“Oh my god. Look at ya.” Atsumu panted, squeezing at the base of his cock before eyeing your cum-covered torso up, and down. He was no artist but fuck, he painted you so, so well.

Using two digits to scoop his cum off your skin, you brought it up to your lips, moaning around your fingers at the taste of Atsumu—safe to say, the lewd view before him had his cock shamelessly standing once again.

As the late night continued with basking in each other’s rawness, and pure pleasure, you completely failed to hear the continuous chimes of your phone inside your purse. Message after message, notification after notification—it all piled up on your lockscreen, and it was anything but good news.

Looks like sore legs, and a pounding headache wasn’t the only thing you were going to deal with in the morning.

—

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[callmeagardengnome]

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 1

w.c - 2.2k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x receptionist! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

sypnosis: as hell’s receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

not proofread!

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masterlist

Click clack. Click clack. You’ve gotten used to the sounds of keyboard typing. Why wouldn’t you be after hearing it everyday for almost 4 centuries?

As Hell’s receptionist, your job was to check in arrivals daily. A new soul arrives, another contract is signed and they are officially Hell’s inhabitant forever. It’s a pretty simple task, one that you’ve learned to appreciate. Unfortunately for you, the job comes with another responsibility.

You have the ‘lovely’ privilege of listening and attending to complaints. From the wails of the Dead to the petty protests of demons, your days are filled with discontent and irritancy.

As thrilling as it sounds, you find yourself being bored most of the time. Nothing exciting ever happens. You hear the same complaints everyday - all yap yap yap. You could not care less about soothing the Dead or settling another demon squabble.

Today felt no different, the neon red sign flickered above your desk, signalling that someone was entering your office space. You straightened your posture and adjusted your nameplate that read, “Receptionist of the Damned.”

Your eyes scanned over to your visitor and you immediately recoiled in disgust, “Ugh.. please leave the air that I’m breathing.”

“Come on.. haven’t I seen you enough times that we’re basically best friends?” the demon in front of you asked as he batted his eyelashes.

Wooyoung, the most annoying demon you’ve ever met, leaned over your desk with his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Sir, you look like my sleep paralysis demon. Please leave my office,” you said sternly as you signalled to the door.

“My dear receptionist, you wound me..” he pouted dramatically, not taking your words seriously at all. “At least listen to what I have to say...”

You sighed. “It’s another complaint about the Eternals isn’t it-“

“You know it is,” Wooyoung sneered, his voice dripping with disdain, contrasting his playful personality earlier.

To put it simply, Hell has three social factions:

The highest faction - The Eternals. They are royalty, demons that need to be treated with the utmost respect. They’re the richest demons that you would find in Hell. Eternals have purple horns, ones that reached high above their heads, almost touching each other. While their horns could be used to distinguish them, their snobbish and stuck-up personality was more than enough.

The lowest faction - The Halas. If you were born a Hala, you’ve lost all hope of having a calm life. A Hala would have stubby red horns and sharp fangs. Despite making up 97% of the demon population, a Hala gets the worst treatment out of the three social factions - mainly due to their aggressive personalities. Most of them are poor and extremely money-hungry. Since they are greedy, they don’t normally make friends with each other. In fact, a Halas’ death mostly happens due to their own kind.

Last but not least, your own faction - The Walkers. The Walkers are typically neutral in everything. Money, social treatment, et cetera. Walkers have jet black horns, almost like the colour of soot. The Walkers are the rarest social class. They are in every government-related job as they are considered ‘impartial’. Having a connection with a Walker is vital for your social class to be stronger.

Money, surprisingly, was an important aspect in Hell. It allowed you to buy a house, have a family or spend it on gambling. It was sought for by so many that it had led to many riots in the past.

Wooyoung was a Hala, with a burning hatred for Eternals. His resentment towards them grew every time he visited, a fire that never seemed to burn out. “They think they can own everything,” he continued, his voice laced with anger. “They walk all over our territory with their big ass boots and claim it as theirs.”

You nodded, taking mental notes. It was a familiar complaint, yet there was more rage since his previous visit. “I’ll file your case, Wooyoung. But you know the process- it’ll take at least two weeks.”

Wooyoung scoffed, crossing his arms. “We don’t have time. You don’t understand- the Halas are planning a revolt.”

A revolt? His words caught you off guard and for the first time in a while, you felt surprised. Having a revolt is startling enough - but Halas revolting? It was unheard of to have them working together for a cause. You quickly shook off the feelings of shock and composed yourself.

“That’s a very bold claim.. but I’m confused of why you’re so worried. I thought you liked chaos?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wooyoung’s expression darkened, the usual glint in his eyes disappearing. “Chaos? Yes. But this? This is destruction, ‘____’. The Eternals will soon crush us and tear Hell apart. That includes you.”

You leaned back into your chair, the weight of his words dawning on you at full force. A revolt of this scale would disrupt all of the progress that has been built over the centuries.

You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair. “If I file this case under ‘urgent’, its going to attract a lot of attention. The kind that gets me in a lot of trouble.”

Wooyoung leaned closer to you, grabbing your jaw. He pulled your ear closer to his mouth, making sure that you heard every word he said.

“I don’t care if you get in trouble- I’m not asking you to take sides. All I’m asking is for you to understand that this isn’t another petty complaint. This is our survival. The Halas can’t take this shit anymore.”

Complaints in Hell were rarely put under ‘urgent’. Since you had all the time in the world, you had no reason to put a complaint in that section. Also, adding a complaint there also meant that journalists and news outlets could view it - drawing attention to the whole ordeal.

You took a deep breath, thinking through your options carefully. You always prided yourself on remaining impartial but the severity of the situation at hand made you think otherwise.

“Fine.. I’ll do it,” you caved. “But you need to keep things calm on your end.”

Wooyoung smirked, stepping back from your desk. “Anything for my dear receptionist.”

Your face morphed in horror as he blew a kiss to you before leaving the room. You mulled over the whole situation that just came to light. This wasn’t just another day in Hell, it was the beginning of something way more sinister.

You typed out a formal complaint about the situation, the sounds of the keyboard being more overwhelming than usual.

You printed it out, giving it your stamp of approval - a kiss stain. You walked over to the other side of your office and finally dropped the paper into the ‘urgent’ chute.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

“Sire, look at this,” Duke Seonghwa said while holding a newspaper article in his hands.

The lord looked up from his desk, his interest piqued. Seonghwa’s expression was unusually troubled and the urgency in his voice made it possible to ignore. He took the newspaper, his eyes scanning the headline.

“This can’t be true..” the lord muttered, his face darkened as he read further.

“The Halas have gotten bolder,” Seonghwa continued. “We cannot afford dismiss this as a another rumour.”

The lord’s eyes flicked back to Seonghwa’s, “Summon the rest here immediately, we need to address this.”

“Yes my lord,” Seonghwa replied, bowing slightly before scurrying off to find the others.

The lord reread the newspaper article again, fingers gripping the pages harder and harder, almost tearing them.

As the leader of the Eternals and the King of Hell, Lord Hongjoong knew that maintaining power was his absolute priority. Any threat to his title would not be taken lightly.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Not long after you filed the complaint, the atmosphere in your office shifted. The temperature seemed to drop and an eerie silence took over your surroundings. The neon red sign above your desk started to flicker violently.

The doors burst open with a deafening crash and several Eternals stormed in with their purple horns glistening ominously in the dim light.

“Receptionist!” a voice boomed, making you freeze in your place. “Explain this!” the demon held a crumpled newspaper article in front of you.

You kept your expression neutral, “General Mingi, that is a concern brought forth by a Hala.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, “This isn’t just a ‘concern’, they’re revolting. How could you standby something this preposterous?”

The other demons behind him murmured in agreement. The air in the room grew thick with tension and you could feel their rage simmering from beneath their composed state.

“I’m not standing by the Halas, General,” you replied calmly. “It’s in everyone’s best interest to address the issue than to escalate it. Ignoring it could lead to disorder.”

Mingi wrinkled his nose, his words sharp and filled with malice, “Know your place, Walker. You’re here to serve, not test our authority.”

He signaled his troop with a flick of the wrist and they began to walk of the room, stepping on the debris they created.

You let out a deep sigh. You were relieved that they left you alone. However, you knew that the Eternals would go above and beyond to get their way.

For centuries, the Eternals have been known in their attempts to get rid of the Halas. The Eternals believed that the Halas were unworthy of sharing the same realm as them. To them, the Halas were a stain in an otherwise perfect Hell.

Efforts to rid the Halas have been unsuccessful, after all, they did make up for the majority of the population. Due to their population size, it had been getting tougher to assign jobs fairly to each of them.

Even as Hell’s receptionist, you’re unable to do much for the issue. All you could do was file complaints that angered someone. You found yourself caught in the middle, witnessing a storm brewing right in front of your eyes.

You filed a maintenance complaint, hoping that your door would get fixed by next day. You gathered your things and quickly dashed out of the door - at the end of the day, you wouldn’t want to get jumped by a demon, would you?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

As you scurried back home, weaving through the streets, you felt someone grab your hand before dragging you to a dark alleyway.

“What the-“

“What are you trying to pull, Walker?” the hooded figure hissed as he pinned you to the wall.

You scoffed. “Who do you think you are?” With a swift motion, you kicked the figure in the stomach, causing him to release his hold. Taking the chance, you reached up and yanked his hood down, revealing his identity.

“Duke?” you exclaimed in surprise when you saw Seonghwa’s face.

You’ve never seen the Duke in real life, only in photographs - which did not do his gorgeous features justice. He always stood next to Lord Hongjoong, rarely leaving his side.

“What are you doing out of the palace? I thought you were the king’s boy-toy?” you asked with a smirk.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Walker,” he spat out, his voice oozing with venom. “Don’t defy me.”

“I’ll ‘defy’ anyone that drags me to a random alley,” you retorted.

With a snarl, he lunged forward, throwing a punch at your face. You ducked in time, feeling the wind from his fist that nearly hit his target. You countered with a kick to his shin, causing him to stumble back with a curse.

He went at you again, his movements fuelled with fury. You dodged his blows with ease - each strike he aimed at you slowly getting more aggressive.

You finally saw an opening. You managed to catch him off guard and delivered a powerful punch to the gut, leaving him gasping for air. As he staggered back in pain, you took a step back, preparing yourself for whatever he would do next.

Surprisingly, he stayed down. His hands clutched his stomach and he wheezed for breath. For a moment, the alleyway was filled with the sounds of his laboured breathing. Did you really hit him that hard?

“Shit- how are you so strong?” he coughed out, his eyes meeting yours.

“I thought it was common knowledge that all Walkers are trained in combat,” you replied, confused. “And I’m not that good.. I think you’re just weak..”

Seonghwa flipped you off before you threw him a mini med-kit that you carried with you at all times.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell anyone about this,” you said. “It’s not only bad for me- it’s embarrassing for you. You challenged a Walker to a fight without any skills.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance as he gave a small nod. Seonghwa started to patch himself up, placing band-aids over the scratches on his body.

You gave him a sly grin, “Sit still and look pretty next time.” With a cackle, you decided to take your leave. You didn’t know whether Seonghwa contacted his friends and you didn’t want to risk getting caught by staying longer.

You bolted home, clutching your bag close to yourself. Despite the turn of events today, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline. Things were becoming too boring in Hell - maybe a revolt is necessary.

author’s note: please make sure to support my fic - all likes and reposts are much appreciated. any feedback is welcome <3

feel free to ask if you want to be on a taglist!

series taglist - @binchanluvrr @hiddlestandom @avantalem @hecateslittlewitchling @iarayara @thunderous-wolf

[merrybloomwrites]

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 5 - Final)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: Y/N is ready to go all the way with Harry, but it doesn't go exactly like she expected. Harry has the perfect solution leading to a wonderful first time.

Word Count: 3.3K

CW: penetrative sex, stopping during sex, sex toys

AN: Thank you so much for reading this series! I really enjoyed writing this so I hoped you enjoyed it as well!

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“Madi is doing a show nearby next week,” Harry says.

The two of you are at your apartment cleaning up dinner. You’d made salmon with rice and roasted veggies, a meal Harry had loved the first time you cooked it for him. He’s insisting on doing all the dishes, so you keep him company, sitting on the counter with your glass of wine in hand.

“Are you going to go?” you ask.

He nods and says, “I am. I was wondering if you’d go with me.”

“Oh,” you reply, stalling for a moment. This may seem like a simple invite, but you know it’s a big moment in your relationship. While you haven’t been completely hiding away, this would be the first time you’re really seen together in public. 

“Are you sure?” You ask. 

“I’m sure. Here, come sit for a minute,” Harry says, lifting you off the counter and leading you to the couch. 

You sit side by side, knees angled towards each other to touch just a little. 

“I understand that being seen in public with me in any sort of official way can be a big deal. People will start to theorize about who you are, and who you are to me. I totally get it if it’s too soon and you’re not comfortable with that yet, but I’d love for you to join me if you’d like to.”

“You want people to know about us? You’re okay with that?” It’s that insecure part of you coming out again, that part that can’t believe this mega popstar has chosen you. That he’d want to be seen with you, just some average nobody. 

“Of course I’m okay with that. I’m proud to be with you. Y/N, you are a wonderful person and I’m so happy that you’ve chosen to be with me. And I love you. Very much.”

Tears well in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you. For the first time, someone is saying those words to you. Someone has chosen you to love. Has chosen you to be their person. And for that someone to be Harry, the most wonderful man you’ve ever met. 

“I love you too,” you finally reply. 

“Yea?” He asks, his face lighting up. 

“Yea. I do,” you confirm. 

“We love each other,” he adds, smiling so wide, showing off his dimples that you’ve come to adore. 

He leans in for a bruising, passionate kiss. Next thing you know he’s made you come twice, once with his mouth and once with his hands, and you’ve returned the favor. 

And as wonderful as his mouth and hands are, you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have him inside of you, to connect with him in that most intimate way. For you and him to come simultaneously, working each other up until you’re crashing over that edge together. 

You lay in bed later that night thinking about this and realizing that you’re ready. You’re not scared of having sex with Harry. You’re nervous about sex in general, but you know he’ll be gentle and will make it as good as possible. 

You’re not sure how to tell him this, and so days pass with these thoughts swirling in your mind. You imagine how nice it will feel, how close you’ll be to Harry. But you just can’t figure out how to ask him to go all the way. 

The night comes for Madi’s show, and you’re as excited as you are nervous. It goes well, Harry is ever attentive and makes sure you’re having a good time. He introduces you to his friends before the show, and it’s exhilarating hearing him call you his girlfriend so casually to all these industry people. 

You still have some of that post concert adrenaline running through you once you get back to Harry’s place. Maybe that’s why you finally find the confidence to ask for exactly what you want. 

You pull Harry into the bedroom and brazenly push him onto the bed before climbing on top of him and crashing your lips to his. 

He’s dazed when you pull away, but obviously interested in whatever you're planning.

“I want to go all the way,” you say before you can chicken out. 

His surprised little head tilt is adorable. When his mouth drops open just a little in shock it looks so inviting, so kissable. And because you're his girlfriend and have every right to kiss him you don’t hesitate, leaning in for a quick but firm kiss. 

“You want to have sex?” He asks against your lips. 

“Yes. I’m ready. I think. I feel ready. I just know that I want you. That I want to be with you in every way possible.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reply.  

He kisses you again, one hand placed on your back and the other cradling your head. The perfect placement for him to execute his next move, which is flipping the two of you over so you’re now laying under him. 

“Let me take care of you,” he says. He presses a kiss to your neck, right at the most sensitive spot, and all tension leaves your body instantly. The kisses trail lower until he gets stopped by the material of your shirt. 

His hands slide under it to rub along your tummy. You arch your back so that he’s able to move your shirt up and finally off of you and out of the way. Gentle kisses are peppered on the newly exposed skin as his fingers ghost over your covered breasts. 

It isn’t long before your bra becomes an inconvenience as well and has to be removed. Harry’s mouth moves to your nipples, giving them attention that has tingles running through your body and quiet gasps leaving your lips. 

He moves back up to kiss you again, his lips moving along yours in that way that has your toes curling. Harry’s shirt rubs along your bare chest and the pleasure caused by the friction is absolutely welcomed. 

“I’m gonna open you up baby, make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me,” he says. His voice is deep, that husky tone that lets you know how much he wants this as well, how turned on he is by what’s about to happen. 

Harry moves to the end of the bed, gently slipping off your shoes and socks, then your jeans, and finally your underwear. You should feel vulnerable, lying there naked with him fully dressed, but you could not be more comfortable with the situation. Especially when his next words are, “God, you’re gorgeous,” causing you to blush. 

He starts by licking along your core, then circling your clit with his tongue. You feel fingers at your entrance and then slowly he slips one inside. He takes his time adding a second, and then a third finger. His tongue never lets up, ensuring you’re feeling pleasure even through the discomfort of being stretched open. 

Harry hooks his fingers just right, pulling away for a moment to say, “Come for me, love.” He leans back down and flicks his tongue against you one more time with his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside, and your pleasure crescendos. You writhe on the bed, lost in the sensations of such a powerful orgasm before finally calming down and catching your breath. 

“You good?” Harry asks. 

“I’m good. So good,” you reply, obviously blissed out. You’re boneless on the bed, completely relaxed. Which was Harry’s plan of course. 

“You still want to continue?” He checks. 

“I do. I want you, Harry,” you confirm. 

“Okay. If you want to stop at any point, you tell me. Immediately. If it doesn’t feel right, or you’re uncomfortable, or just don’t want to continue, you let me know.”

“I will. I promise.”

Harry leans to the bedside table and pulls out a condom and lube. He takes a moment to slip on the condom and coat his length in the lube. He wants to make this as easy and pain free as possible. 

When he’s ready he leans back over you. His eyes meet yours and he says, “I love you.”

His face is serene, and you’re sure that your expression matches his when you say, “I love you, too.”

He kisses you once, a sweet press of his lips and then he says, “I’m going to start now, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer. Your voice sounds firm despite the fact that your nerves have started to set in again. You can’t help but think about how big Harry is, about how small your opening is, and how it’s probably going to hurt or burn or what if something goes really wrong and you tear down there. 

You keep your breathing even as Harry starts to press inside of you. It’s a weird feeling, one that his fingers definitely couldn’t prepare you for. He’s going slow and gentle, just as he promised, but as he presses in a little more you can’t settle down. 

Despite telling yourself to relax and just focus on Harry, your panic wins out and suddenly you’re telling him to stop. 

He stills immediately and says, “What’s wrong baby, did I hurt you?”

“I don’t, just, can you-”

“I’m going to pull out,” he says, knowing what you’re trying to ask. 

Once he does that, you take a couple deep breaths and quickly calm down. 

“I’m sorry-” you start to say but he cuts you off and states, “Do not apologize. Never apologize. If something is wrong you should always speak up. I’m very glad you did. Do you think you can tell me why you wanted to stop so I know? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No, nothing like that,” you reply. “I think I just got overwhelmed. And nervous. And then I was too tense and I kind of panicked.”

“And that’s okay. I don’t love that you felt panic but I completely understand why you would. It’s a lot to take.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish.”

“Sweetheart, please stop saying sorry. And don’t worry about me. Though I would feel better if you let me hold you for a little bit. Think we can do that?”

“That sounds nice.”

Harry gets up for a moment to grab a wipe and some clothes. Once you’re both cleaned up and dressed you settle together, Harry’s arms wrapped around you and holding you tight. You’ll have to get up in a little while to finish getting ready for bed, but you both need this moment together to recenter after what just occurred. 

And it works. By the time you do get up to brush your teeth and wash your faces you’re both feeling calm and content once again. 

You make a promise to yourself that you won’t let this experience ruin sex for you. You will try again when you feel ready, and you’ll find what works for you. 

A few days later you're back at Harry’s for the first time since the incident. It’s a normal night, the two of you cooking together and enjoying casual conversation, catching up over the past couple of days. Nothing is amiss, not until dinner is cleaned up and you’re sitting together on the couch. That’s when Harry starts acting nervous. 

“I have something for you,” he says, making you nervous now about what it could be. 

“Wait here a moment,” he adds before getting up and walking to the bedroom. He’s back a moment later carrying a couple different boxes. He holds them close to him so you can’t tell what they are.  

Finally he sits down again and places the boxes on the table. When you see what they contain your eyes go wide, practically bugging out of your head. 

“I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but I was trying to think of a way to help you be more prepared and more comfortable when it comes to sex. And well, this is what I’ve come up with so far.”

It’s a good explanation for the fact that your boyfriend bought you dildos. Three different ones in varying colors and sizes. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks after watching you sit there silently for a few minutes.

“I’m thinking that most girls don’t need to like, train their vaginas in order to have sex,” you reply.

“Most girls lose their virginity to some jerk who doesn’t care if she’s comfortable. They probably felt the same way you did but kept going to make the boy happy or because they thought that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“I really thought that I would get so like, lost in the moment that it would only feel good.”

“Someday that’s what’s going to happen. But for now this is something new to you so you’re going to be nervous and that’s completely okay. We’ll work together, and we’ll get there, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you say, two words that barely show the amount of gratitude you have for this kind and patient man. His use of the word “we” just shows how dedicated he is to you, that he’s not putting all of this on you. He’s there with you on this journey of discovery, and wants to show you how good it can actually be.

“Why don’t you take these home with you tonight and just familiarize yourself with them and then you can try them yourself or we can do it together. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

And that’s how you end up sitting in your bed later that night, three boxes surrounding you. After your conversation with Harry you’d put them all in a bag, out of sight. It isn’t until now that you’re home and done with your nighttime routine that you’re taking them out again. 

You open up the boxes and lay the three of them side by side. Harry had explained that the smallest is about as wide as two fingers, and the biggest was almost as big as his actual cock. Picking up the smallest and looking at it more closely you feel confident that you could handle that without a problem. The medium one is a bit intimidating, but not all that scary. But the last still seems too big to possibly fit inside of you. 

After another few minutes of holding these objects you put everything away into a storage bag Harry had given you just for these items. He’d also given you a cleaning set to be sure that you would always be safe when using them. Even with this he’d gone above and beyond what was necessary, and you fall asleep that night thinking about how generous and thoughtful he is. 

Over the next couple of weeks you and Harry use the dildos during some of the intimate moments you share. As expected the small one is easy and you don’t stress at all with that.

The medium has you a little worried, so Harry goes slow when he’s inserting it. Even though it’s a bit bigger than you’re used to, you find that it doesn’t hurt. The stretch even feels good, and Harry uses it just right to hit that perfect spot inside of you. When you come with this one, you come hard, clenching tight around the toy. 

He tells you that he’s going to teach you how to use it on yourself, wanting to make sure you can have your needs met even if he’s traveling. Masturbation isn’t something you really thought about since Harry fulfills your needs perfectly, but he explains there may be times you’re separate for a while and phone sex would be your only option. Conceding that he really does have a point you promise to try to learn how to please yourself. After all he seems genuinely sad by the thought that you could be left wanting for a period of time.

When it’s time to use the biggest dildo you’re nervous again. But Harry goes even slower, keeping you calm and relaxed. You’re surprised by how good it feels once it’s finally in, and you make a quick decision that startles Harry. 

“Take it out, please, Harry,” you say and he does so immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly.

“Nothing. But I want you. If I can take that I can take you, right? And right now, I just really want you inside of me, not something made of silicone,” you explain. 

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I feel ready. It’s different from the last time, I promise. I feel prepared now and I just really want you, Harry.”

At your confirmation, Harry quickly takes off his underwear and grabs what he needs from the bedside table. Once he’s prepared he lines himself up and checks in with you one more time. 

“Please, Harry, I want this. Want you,” you repeat. 

“You’ve got me, baby. Just relax and I’ll take care of you.”

There’s still some stretch and discomfort, but this time you know you can handle it. Harry leans down to kiss you as he slowly works himself inside, trying to pull your focus to his mouth so you wouldn’t start to overthink. 

It must work because soon he’s pulling back to say, “Good job, sweetheart.”

He’s fully inside of you for the first time, and now it’s overwhelming in the best way. It’s definitely weird to be so full, and more specifically full of another person. But it’s also so wonderful to connect with him like this. 

“I love you,” you say, the only thing you can think of at this moment. 

“I love you too,” he replies. “I’m going to start moving now, okay?”

“Okay, yes, please.”

He leans down to kiss you again as he starts to slowly thrust inside of you. It’s weird, but after a little bit it starts to feel good. Harry shifts just a tad and suddenly an intense spark of pleasure rolls through your body. 

You break from the kiss, moaning into Harry’s mouth instead and he continually hits the same spot inside of you, causing the warmth to build in your core. 

His pace increases and his hand moves down to rub at your clit. Harry presses sloppy kisses to your neck before moving to suck at your most sensitive spot. He’s doing everything he can to bring you pleasure, make you feel good, feel loved. 

And it works. Harry’s hand moves firmer against your clit and that touch sends you over the edge into one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

You hold Harry close as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Your walls clench around him, and the heat and pressure triggers his orgasm as well. You hear his quiet moans and feel him twitch inside of you. 

Harry pulls out and lays next to you, pulling you to his side. The two of you catch your breath and your hands trail over each other’s bare, sweaty skin.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m- yeah. Wow. More than okay.”

“Feeling good?”

“I’m feeling perfect,” you reply and turn so you can press another chaste kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too. Thank you for being so patient and gentle with me.”

“Always, baby. I will always take care of you.”

You lay there, wrapped in his embrace, and know that he’s telling the truth. You think back to that first chance encounter months ago, and can’t believe how much has changed- and all for the better. These months with him have been absolutely perfect. He’s been perfect. You’re so grateful for how patient he’s been teaching you about intimacy. Because now the two of you have had sex for the first time and you feel even closer to him than before. Closer than you thought possible.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: So I've read (and written) a bunch of stories where Harry would say "let me know if you want to stop" and so I wanted to write a scene where that actually happens.

Thank you again for reading this series!

I also have a Harry x reader oneshot coming out next Tuesday for Whumptober!

Taglist: @lizsogolden @daphnesutton @kissitnhekitchen @fruity-harry

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 5]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 3.4k

Authors Note: A little bit of a longer chapter this time around, and I'm very excited to share this part with you. I also wanted to note that I have the next 2 parts in the works, and again, I wanted to thank you for reading my story!

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lallataegi @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Previous Chapter | Interlude

Series Masterlist

The basement is loud with the sound of drunken college students conversing over a pop playlist that played over a DIY speaker system. Boxed wine and cheap beer flowed freely, poured into disposable cups. One of those cups landed in Jung Kook’s hand, and he hoped it would give him the courage to say hello you. He stood against the wall, feeling completely invisible, seemingly blended into the background of grey cement. You, by contrast, were a social butterfly, amazing Jung Kook with how you were able to completely light up the room. 

You were sitting on empty table, denim shorts revealing your legs as the swung absentmindedly to the rhythm. A group of your closest girl friends surrounded you, and you sported a large, pearly white smile while you spoke to them. Jung Kook couldn’t hear you over the music and the other party goers, but he could tell just from watching how easily you drew people in. 

‘Just talk to her.’ He repeated to himself, taking more sips of his beer. ‘Just talk to her. Just do it. She’s nice, you know she won’t laugh at you. Just do it.” 

As though his feet had made a decision for him, he headed towards your little circle of friends. When he approached you, your attention turned to him, and your eyes lit up. 

“Jung Kook! I haven’t gotten to talk to you yet this semester, how are you?”  You greeted him. Your friends turned to him, smiled and some waved. “You guys, this is Jung Kook, we have a class together! He was in my history class last semester, too.” 

“Hi.” Jung Kook waved shyly, not used to being the center of attention. “I-I’m good, thanks.” 

With a sigh of relief that the hardest part is over, Jung Kook moved into the space your friends made for him, and attempted to melt into the conversation. He stuttered, unable to take his eyes off of you, but if anyone noticed, they said nothing about it. He desperately wanted to get you alone, away from the noise, but couldn’t quite find the right moment to steal you away from your friends. So he settled for watching your bright smile, sparkling eyes, and listening to your charismatic, sweet voice chat up your friends. 

But then,, Kai, the boy who had hurt you just a few months previously, moved in close to you, handing you another cup. Jung Kook detested the way you looked up at him, and the way all your friends fawned superficially over the two of you. Everyone, including Jung Kook, knew he was bad for you, but nobody wanted to say anything when you just looked so happy. He understood, because he never wanted to make you sad, either. 

It wasn’t long before Kai led you away from the party, to his parked car, to take you home for the night. You turned and waved at your friends, including Jung Kook, telling them to drive safe. Jung Kook went home right after, feeling sick to his stomach in sadness. 

Later that night, at Kai’s, you stepped out of his shower into the steamy bathroom. You feet hit the soft bathmat, and you tied your hair up into a towel before checking the multiple texts on your phone from your group of friends, sending pics of the night.You smiled at the girls, and rolled your eyes playfully at them. 

1:13 am - Jihyo: Y/N, that Jung Kook guy is soooo cute. He’s like a bunny lol 

1:14 am - Nayeon: I think he likes her??? He stared at her literally all night 

1:15 am - Jihyo: I’m so glad you noticed that too lol. I know you have a thing going on with Kai, but he told you he didn’t want anything serious, right? Idk, maybe you should ask Jung Kook out???

1:17 am - Nayeon: Yeah, and I doubt he’ll ever do it himself. He barely talked tonight? I guess he’s just shy. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Kai called from outside the bathroom. 

“Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, my friends are texting me.” You responded, putting the phone down and finishing your night time routine. 

You met Kai in the bedroom, and he looked like a dream. Shirtless, sitting up in bed with the tv on, he smiled at you, and you wondered how badly it was going to hurt when you inevitably stopped coming over to see him. Logically, you know this was just casual, and that’s all it would ever be. But that night, you put your cares aside, as you dipped under the covers to take him between your lips, just the way you’ve learned that he likes. 

“Shit, Y/N…” He groaned, placing a firm hand on the top of your bobbing head. “Go a little deeper… Fuck, keep sucking my dick, baby… Just fucking like that…” 

He fell asleep shortly after finishing, leaving you feeling lonely and unsatisfied. You grabbed your phone as he slept, and re read your friends texts. Did Jung Kook have a crush on you? Maybe? You decided to ask him the next time you saw him in class. The worst he could say is no, right? 

But the question was never answered when, the next class period, the seat next to yours was empty. As was the day after, and the day after that. You asked around, only to find that Jung Kook had gone home excused for several weeks, apparently to spend time with family. 

The reason was only partially true. Jung Kook, after the passing of his father, made it a priority and a personal responsibility of his to take care of his mother. No matter how many times she told him to focus on his studies, supportive of his dreams to be an attorney, Jung Kook came home frequently to help her with house chores, cooking and anything else she wasn’t able to do on her own. 

As the pair were in the kitchen, Jung Kook’s hands full with a heavy pot of boiling water and sweet potato noodles, that he carried with an oven mitten on each hand, his mother asked him about his time at university. She sat at the kitchen counter, watching him work as they spoke. The question that always comes up, and that Jung Kook never knew how to answer, was when his mother politely and inevitably  asks, “Is there a special girl you’re seeing?” 

This time, Jung Kook chose to be honest with her. 

“There’s a special girl,” He replies, eyes focused on draining the boiling water into the kitchen sink, careful to keep the noodles in tact. “But I’m not seeing her.” 

“Ah, I see.” His mother nodded understandingly. “Does the special girl have a name?” 

“Yeah… Y/N.” He said with a small, growing smile, and his mother noted how his expression changed just at the mere mention of you. She knew immediately, without any doubt, that her son was absolutely taken with you. 

She smiled as she watched him run around the kitchen, placing the noodles back on the stove, then continuing to cook their family’s special japchae recipe for her. As content as she was with the man her son was becoming, being that he was smart, excelled in school, responsible and kind, she had always hoped he’d meet someone to make him happy. Jung Kook had spent so much of his life taking care of her, behaving just like his father, taking on the gentle protector and provider role. She hoped that he would meet a sweet girl who he could do that for, too. She knew her son too well, and recognized that he has so much more love to give. 

“She must be a great girl, to catch your attention.” She chuckled, and Jung Kook’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 

“Eomma, stop.” He whined like a child, causing her to laugh.

“I know it’s true, because you’re a good man, Jung Kook.” She said, watching as he tossed the noodles together with the mix of vegetables and sauce. “Just keep trying, and keep being good to her, like I know you already are. One of these days, I’m sure you’ll win her over.” 

“Thanks, Eomma.” He said quietly and shyly, ending the topic by handing her a beige-colored bowl of japchae. “I hope this tastes like Appa’s.” 

“Your cooking always does.” 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Jung Kook lifted his head from the pillow, and felt around in the dark for his ringing cellphone by his bedside. The clock said 5 a.m. on a Tuesday, several hours before his time to clock in to the firm, and Namjoon’s caller I.D. was bright on his phone screen. He answered the phone with a drowsy, “Hello?” 

“Hello. My apologies for waking you, I know it’s early, but we have a situation.” Namjoon said, his words spilling out quick and panicked.  “I know you’ve recused yourself from the Park case, but you’re the only one I could think of to call. I need you at the hotel he and Y/N are staying at, as soon as you can get here.” 

“Wait, what?” Jung Kook said, wiping sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“I’ll explain when you get here, just please, be here soon, ok?” 

“Ok.” Jung Kook answered before hanging up the phone. 

He quickly threw together an outfit that was semi-professional, and did a quick brush of his teeth and hair, before grabbing his keys and phone, and bolting out the front door. Minutes felt like hours as he followed his map to the pinpointed location Namjoon had sent him. The city at this hour was strangely still and quiet, but his thoughts were anything but as he rushed through crosswalks and paced under street lights, thanking the universe for the lack of traffic at this time in the morning. His mind wandered, wondering what was going on, why he was called, and above everything else, are you ok? 

“Jung Kook! I’m so glad you’re here.” Namjoon called for him from across the street. Jung Kook looked both ways before he dashed across the road, meeting him in front of the hotel doors. “I’ll explain while we go up to their suite, come on.” 

Jung Kook matched his pace as they entered the building, quickly locating the elevator, and entering through its opened doors. 

“I called you because Y/N called me.” Namjoon explained, pressing the button for their floor. “You’re from Busan, how much do you know about Jimin? What have you heard?” 

“I uh, I knew his family name, like everyone does.” Jung Kook responded. “Honestly, I didn’t know anything about him until I met him.” 

“Ok, well let me fill you in quickly.” Namjoon said. The elevator dinged as it stopped, and the doors opened for the men to step  out and turn to the right, down the sleepy, luxurious hallway. “Rich kid heir, that much you know. He has a history of alcohol abuse that’s gotten him into some trouble, damaging his family’s reputation among other business leaders, because he’s the next in line to the company’s top position. His father told him not to get in any more trouble, or else he’d be cut off. Getting engaged to a good girl from a good family has been a great look for him. Changing from a party boy into a ‘husband-to-be’ does wonders for saving face.” 

“Ok…” Jung Kook said, listening intently.  

“It’s important to keep up that appearance. I’ve worked as the main attorney for the Park family for a long time now, and one thing to know about these wealthy families, is that while appearance is everything, it’s almost never true.” 

“Are you saying he doesn’t love her?” Jung Kook asked, his heart racing. 

“I’m not saying that. What I’m saying, is that it wasn’t enough to keep him away from the bottle. Y/N called me earlier, and she’s distraught. Something about a big fight, I couldn’t quite understand her over the phone. But it sounds like Jimin’s an absolute train wreck right now, and the last thing I need is for my high profile client and his fiancé to have a public blow out in a five star hotel, right before I'm about to argue that he can't be held liable for his bullshit.” 

“So why am I here?” 

“Personal back up.” Namjoon said, as they pause at the door. “It’s clear that she trusts you, so you’re on my DIY crisis team until we figure this out.” 

Namjoon knocked gently on the door, his demeanor changing from stern and focused, to delicate, matching the tone of the situation. Jung Kook could hear muffled cries behind the door, and all he wanted to do was to barge in, wrap you up in his arms, and take you as far away from this as he could. But he steadied his breath, needing to be a calm presence for you. 

“Y/N, are you ok?” Namjoon asked softly, moving his ear towards the door. “It’s Namjoon, and Jung Kook’s here, too.” 

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, a little hiccup to your voice. “O-One minute, please, Mr. Kim. I’ll be right there.” 

“We’ll be right here at the door, ok?” He said, a frown plastered on his face as he looked at Jung Kook, who seemed equally, if not more so, concerned. 

A few, long moments later, the two men heard the click of the lock, and then met the attention of the woman who was standing at the barely-opened door. You were dressed in a pink silk night gown, bare feet on the hardwood floors, and your hair was wet as you seemingly just exited the shower. But your face screamed that you were tired, like you hadn’t slept a wink before they arrived. Dark circles under your eyes, and dropping lids. Your skin dull, and cheeks red. 

“Y/N,” Jung Kook said, heart break evident in his voice. “Can we come in?” 

You nodded, and stepped to the side so they could enter. The luxury, executive suite had been turned upside down. Your clothes were scattered everywhere, across furniture and on the floor, mixed together with empty bottles of varieties of alcohol. As Namjoon walked through the suite, examining the damage, taking note of Jimin’s broken iPhone on the floor of the bedroom, Jung Kook made his way over to you. You slowly moved around the living room, attempting to clean up the mess. 

“I’m s-sorry, he’s not usually like this.” You explained in the smallest voice Jung Kook had ever heard. You collected garments from your wardrobe in your arms. “He’s always so sweet, y’know? He’s so good, he’s just dealing with stress and I…I..”

“Y/N.” Jung Kook cut you off from your rambling. Before even having time to realize what he was doing, his body took over to come in close to you and take your hand in his, making you drop your clothes to the floor. This was not how he wanted to hold your hand for the first time, but you needed someone there to steady you. “Come sit with me. Please.” 

You nodded, and followed him to the couch without letting go of his hand. Jung Kook, in that moment, felt like safety. He felt like a breath of fresh air, just as you were just about to suffocate. Your mind was quick to self-soothe, telling you, Jung Kook’s here. He’ll make it better. You weren’t sure why, chalking it up to a lack of sleep, but you truly believed that. He'll make it better.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Jung Kook asked, as delicately as he could. His thumb caressed your hand, trying to provide you with any comfort he could. 

“I… I wanted to leave.” You said quietly, looking down, unable to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. “He woke up, and-and started drinking again, and I….” You choked up, needing a moment, but tears were already flowing. “I love him, but I can’t watch him do this to himself. So I told him I was leaving, and he got so angry that he took the clothes that I was trying to pack, and threw them everywhere. Then I got upset, and I said I wanted to call Mr. Kim, b-because I knew he would help him. But Jimin didn’t like that, so he broke his phone...he threw it against the bedroom wall, t-to break it, to keep me from finding the number. But I was able to find Mr. Kim’s number anyways when Jimin fell asleep again. He’s just so tired, y’know? He just needs to rest, so he’ll be happy again, but I didn’t know what else to do, so I called…” 

“I’m glad you did.” Jung Kook said, his eyes locked on you. Listening to you try to take care of Jimin, despite how much he hurts you, shattered his heart. You deserve so much better than this, angel. Jung Kook thought to himself. “I- We, Mr. Kim and I, are always going to help you when you need us, ok? Never be afraid to call.” 

Namjoon stepped out of the bedroom, his jaw clenched in frustration, trying to keep his professional composure. 

“Mr. Park is asleep.” He said, his eyes glancing to the way Jung Kook held your hand, but seeing how you’ve settled, he decided against commenting. “Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?” 

“I’m ok.” You mumbled. “I told Jung Kook what happened… But, I called because I wanted to ask if you could help me, Mr. Kim.” 

“Yes, of course.” Namjoon said. “We’ll clean this up, don’t worry.”

"Thank you, but I actually needed help with something a bit more… legal?” You explained, and Jung Kook felt the way you gripped his hand, as though absentmindedly using him to support yourself. “Is there any possibility that we can defer Jimin’s court date, so that he can seek treatment?” 

“You’re asking that your fiancé spends some time in rehab?” Namjoon asks to confirm, and you nod. 

“I think it would be for the best. Last night was… scary, if I’m being honest with you, Mr. Kim.” You said, gripping Jung Kook’s hand once again. “He would never physically hurt me, please don’t misunderstand. I just haven’t seen him lose his temper like that, or drink in such an extreme way before. I don’t see how he can sit in a court room and properly handle himself right now.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” Namjoon sighed. “Ok, Ms. Y/L/N. Between us, I have some pull with this judge, as I’ve worked in his courtroom several times. I’ll make some calls, and see what I can do. But will you do something for me?” 

“What is it?” 

“I want you to separate from Jimin for a while. This isn’t legal advice, and please forgive me for stepping out of line into personal business, but I just… I’m worried about you.” 

“I am, too.” Jung Kook spoke up, earning a look from Namjoon.

“I’m not sure where I’d go…”  

“We can help you move to a different hotel for the time being.” Namjoon offered. “Something nice, so you’re able to have some space.” 

“I don’t know, Mr. Kim. I’d rather not be alone right now…” 

“Then stay with me.” 

You and Namjoon both set your attention on Jung Kook. The words slipped from his lips before he had time to catch them, and now they floated in the air, waiting for a response of any kind. 

“Mr. Jeon, I’m not sure that’s appropriate.” Namjoon said sternly. 

“I’m not involved in this case professionally.” Jung Kook pushed back, before turning his attention to you. “I’m here as a friend. Y/N, I have a guest room that… honestly, may not be as big as what you’d like, but you won’t have to be alone. Please, just let me do this for you.” 

Namjoon didn’t like the hopeful tone of his colleague’s voice, or the line this was potentially crossing, but with your reservations about being alone, and his worry over keeping you with Jimin, he wasn’t sure he had a better option. 

“Ok.” You responded, the small smile on your lips being the first you’ve had in many hours. “That sounds nice, Jung Kook. Thank you.” 

 “Any time.” He responded, sounding relieved. 

“Let me grab some of my things, and I’ll meet you at the door.” You said, grabbing a handful of clothes from the floor and going to the bedroom to grab your bag. 

Namjoon shot Jung Kook a knowing look from across the room, with eyebrows raised and arms crossed. 

“I’m trusting you.” Namjoon told him as soon as he knew you weren’t listening. “Don’t let that be a mistake by being a fucking idiot.” 

“I won’t.” Jung Kook said, sure of himself and of the situation. 

A few silent moments passed before you were standing at the door with a weekender bag in hand. Jung Kook gave Namjoon a nod as he got off the couch and walked over to you, taking your bag to carry for you, and opening the door for you to exit out of the hotel suite. 

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift. 

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.” 

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night. 

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend. 

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner. 

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing. 

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote. 

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face. 

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you. 

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen. 

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen. 

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus. 

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back. 

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers. 

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets. 

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone. 

You chuckle in response. 

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came. 

And will still be one after you. 

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself. 

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments. 

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges. 

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say, 

I got you.

*

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar. 

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even. 

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure. 

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something. 

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service.  You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus. 

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top. 

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts. 

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece. 

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised. 

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you. 

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy. 

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks. 

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start. 

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone. 

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar. 

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband. 

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.” 

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about. 

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb. 

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next. 

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.” 

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her. 

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings. 

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.” 

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely. 

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly. 

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service. 

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out. 

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him. 

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook. 

“Good service tonight,” he says back. 

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies. 

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t. 

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile. 

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you. 

“Hey!” 

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again. 

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively. 

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you. 

“Always, Carm.”  

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack. 

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh. 

“Is that even a real question?” 

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed. 

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant. 

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop. 

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara. 

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself. 

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had. 

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate. 

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil. 

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times. 

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him. 

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no. 

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta. 

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again. 

No awkward tension of things left unsaid. 

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t. 

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen. 

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs. 

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back.  “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you. 

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks. 

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself. 

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully. 

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.” 

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs. 

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. 

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.” 

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face. 

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm. 

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin. 

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. 

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now. 

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless. 

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that. 

On your favorite fucking dish. 

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit. 

That he only got them for you. 

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever. 

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt. 

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you. 

It’s just you and him. 

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath. 

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip. 

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going. 

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been. 

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you. 

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now? 

Now, could be different, if you’d let it. 

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it. 

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead. 

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you. 

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently. 

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can. 

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off. 

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. 

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off. 

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body. 

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing. 

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’ 

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is. 

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless. 

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. 

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off. 

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand. 

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care. 

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours. 

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you. 

You both gasp at the feel of each other. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment. 

“This okay?” 

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts. 

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.” 

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts. 

But you’re in desperate need for more. 

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much. 

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls –  anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight. 

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you. 

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice. 

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger. 

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain. 

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips. 

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses. 

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say. 

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.” 

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him. 

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse. 

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had. 

It feels… magnificent. 

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder. 

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

[obsessedobsesser]

It's been a while since I put together Part 1 of my GO fanfic recs. Having read a ton more since then, I figured it was time for another list.

In no particular order:

1. 'On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller)' by RockSaltAndRoll (Explicit)

This fic takes place in 1941 with MI5Agent!Crowley and bookseller!Aziraphale. Aziraphale is first recruited by, who he thinks, is an MI5 but turns out not to be. Crowley, an actual MI5 Agent then recruits him to "double cross the double-crosser". Lots of pining and badassery (from both sides) ensue in this one!

2. 'Ricochet' by NaroMoreau (Explicit)

I'm a sucker for anything written by Naro but 'Ricochet' has become one of my favourite fics of theirs. Crowley is missing his angel after S2 and ends up summoning another version of Aziraphale. So, we get 1 Crowley, 2 Aziraphale's. The best mix. The writing in this is *chef kiss*. How Naro writes Crowley's pain and the characterizations of the 2 separate Aziraphale's -- just gorgeous.

3. ‘Terminus’ by BraveLight (Teen & Up Audiences)

I had no idea how much I needed an Astronaut!Aziraphale and MissionController!Crowley AU in my life until I read this fic. They have to team up to get Aziraphale home, but there’s way more to the mission than meets the eye. The twists and turns had me clicking 'next chapter' instantly. And the way Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship is written is so gentle and romantic—it’s perfect.

4. "Villainous" by IneffablePenguin (Explicit)

This is THE fairy tale AU you need to read! Crowley (Crow) is a sorcerer, and Aziraphale (Azra) is a prince—this fic honestly feels like it belongs on a best-seller list. IneffablePenguin has a real gift for painting vivid scenes that are so easy to picture. And those final chapters? They totally got me. I couldn't put this fic down.

5. "Cilice It To Say" by izzyspussy (Explicit)

Ho boy. This will be a fic I'll think about often. It's up there with the one I mention next. It's not as explicit as some of the other I've read but jesus christ. As it says on the tin: Crowley has a kink - The kink is Aziraphale. This is big on divinity kink, if that's not your jam, you may not like this one.

6. "Tether" by Ginger_Cat (Explicit)

It's coming up on a year of reading this fic and I think about Chapter 6 constantly. I don't want to spoil it but let me tell you, it's worth it. Aziraphale, now Supreme Archangel, keeps getting summoned back to Earth by Crowley but they don't know why.

7. "Intermezzo" by FeralTuxedo (Explicit)

Aziraphale is a music critic who, back in the day, tanked Crowley’s classical music career with a harsh review of his debut opera. If my fic recs haven’t given it away yet, I’m all about that bickerflirting, and this fic provides. It's also by FeralTuxedo. Anything written by them is 10/10.

WIP'S

8. “Reclaimed” by gallifreyshawkeye (Mature):

Are you in the mood for some Crowley Whump? If so, this fic DELIVERS. Gallifreyshawkeye knows how to paint a very vivid image of injury, so do mind the tags. This takes place 4 years after S2 and Crowley gets dragged down to hell by Satan in front of Aziraphale. It's honestly one of my favourite WIP's at the moment. I am on the edge of my seat whenever a new chapter comes out.

9. "Wavelengths & Frequencies" by imposterssyndrome, shades_of_eccles_cakes (Explicit)

Who doesn't love an enemies to friends to lovers story? While this fic only has 3 chapters so far, I am hooked. But hey, you give me a fic with Crowley and Aziraphale as radio hosts, I am there! I'm so excited to see how this develops and to see more of our 2 idiots going at each other.

10. "Stroke Play" by moonyinpisces (Explicit)

Moony knows how to write pining and I am here for it. In this AU, Crowley competes in beach volleyball, while Aziraphale takes on the golf course at the 2024 Olympics. They're both so down bad for each other but no one communicates. I love it!

Got any good fic recs? Send them my way :) Sharing is caring.

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 09

Words: 4,3K

Summary: You didn't like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you would use to describe him.

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Notes: we are getting into business with this new chapter. I haven’t written almost anything during the whole week, I was busy studying but hopefully I can finish the chapter I was writing and start with the new one. I’m so excited for all of you to read the next few chapters.

Before you read the chapter: i know this post will be seen by a lot of people and I wanted to share this gofoundme link, she is my moot on twt, her name is Noor and she is trying to evacuate her and her family from Gaza and she is still trying to raise money. I know not everyone can donate but if you can rt and share it’s very useful. Thank you ❤️

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Pinteres board || Birdie playlist || ao3

“Fuck me.”

You opened your eyes in surprise after hearing your best friend’s words.

“Sorry.” She covered her mouth. “But Jesus! You look so freaking hot.” She looked up and down several times.

“You think so?” You looked at yourself back in the mirror.

Kyoko nodded. “That red dress looks breathtaking on you. And your breasts look just so good with it and please tell me you are wearing the high boots.” She said looking around, searching for your boots.

“Yes.” You smiled.

“My femme fatale girl.” She joked. “Girl, I’m afraid I might come back home alone.” She cried.

“Pfff.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not the one who has a boyfriend, you are!” You pointed at her. “I will probably be the one coming back home alone because you will be too busy with your lovely boyfriend.”

“C’mon girl, when was the last time you hooked up with someone, just anyone.” Kyoko said while stealing one of your lipsticks.

You felt silent, trying to think when was the last time you hooked up with someone. Last year’s New Year’s party? No you were working at the bar, so was two years ago with that guy?

“Oh god!” Kyoko gasped. “You don’t even remember it!”

“Shut up!” You took away your lipstick. “I was busy working and studying. I couldn’t go parting.”

“That’s why.” She positioned herself behind you. “Tonight, you will hooked up with someone.”

“Kyoko…”

“C’mon! The entire basketball team will be there.” She winked at you. “Satoru will be there.” She dropped it.

You tried to ignore the growing feeling on your chest. “And what about it?” You said with no emotion on your voice.

“What? You are going to tell me, that now you don’t dislike him, you haven’t imagine yourself hooking up with him.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “No I haven’t.” That idea hasn’t crossed your mind. Yet.

“Whatever, but there are a lot of hot guys in the team. But the hottest is already taken and it’s mine.” She joked. “Oh…” She gasped. “Probably the hot guy, the one you used to crush on, the one with the face tattoo and piercings will be there, he is also part of the basketball.”

“That was back when we were in our first year.” You snorted. “And besides, I think he has a girlfriend.���

Kyoko grimaced and sat on your bed while you finished making the final arrangements. You had to say it, you looked hot tonight.

At first you were doubtful about going out, because you didn’t feel like it. But you were young, you were having an extra free day and you nailed your exam, although you still didn’t know your score. But it was going to be good.

You turned around and looked at your best friend with a huge smile on your face.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely!” She screamed and held your arm.

Exiting your room, you exchanged polite farewells with Kyoko's parents before stepping out into the cool night air. There, standing by the front gate, was Suguru, patiently waiting for both of you.

Kyoko let go of your arm, her demeanor shifted, and she moved swiftly into Suguru's awaiting embrace. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as you watched the intimate moment that they were sharing. You put on a smile and greeted Suguru warmly, acknowledging his presence with a nod. You sat in the back seat, while Kyoko sat next to Suguru in the front seats.

During the trip, the three of you talked about various topics, creating an atmosphere of fluid conversation that never made you feel out of place, as if you were holding the candles.

You couldn't help but notice how Kyoko was watching Suguru with bright eyes and a radiant smile on her face. Seeing her like this only filled your heart with warmth and joy.

In love, reciprocity was comforting, but when only one loved, the result was heartbreaking for those left longing.

Have you experienced love? Maybe, if you could call it that. At fifteen, your understanding of love was as ephemeral as the changes of the seasons, based mainly on the representations of movies, series, and books you found in the library.

At that age, you embarked on a relationship that lasted almost a year with a boy from your town. He was two years older than you, knew much more than you and was more experienced. However, as quickly as it began, what you could feel for him faded, now with the years that had passed, you were aware that for him you had only been a whim and for you he had been an exciting moment at that stage. Dating someone older had sounded exciting, but nothing could be further from the truth.

But life hit you in the face, once again, when you were sixteen years old and the idea of ��​love was pushed aside. The last thing you wanted was to tie yourself to another in the middle of the chaos of your life.

After that relationship you had had one or another, more like attempts at relationships. In fact, when you were in first grade, Kyoko forced you to go on more than one blind date. I wanted to go on a double date one day.

But after breaking up with the prick he stopped insisting and you were never interested again. So the last time you had made out with someone, it had been during the New Year's Eve party two years ago. After that your life had been too hectic to have time.

Suguru parked the car in the crowded parking lot and the three of you stepped out of the vehicle into the bustle of the night. As you adjusted your dress, you looked at the happy couple, Kyoko and Suguru, who were arm in arm, radiating joy.

Kyoko caught your attention and made a playful gesture with her hand, motioning for you to join them in walking hand in hand towards the nightclub. His smile was contagious.

You took a moment to compose yourself, then offered a smile in return, nodding slightly as you closed the distance and linked arms with Kyoko. Then, the three of you headed towards the club where the basketball team had agreed to meet.

“I think I haven’t told you.” Kyoko said to your ear. “Shoko is coming tonight too.”

“For real? That’s great, she is nice.” You smiled. “I just hope you two don’t end up like last time.” Kyoko blushed a little bit.

“It was a one time thing.” She defended herself with a pout.

"Yes, but the one who had to drag your drunk asses around the house was me." You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Shoko and I will make it up to you, we'll invite you." Kyoko said still without erasing the pout from her lips.

"It's the least I hope for." You said jokingly.

“Girls, we are here.” Suguru spoke, moving his head towards the club.

You entered the club, being welcomed by the heat of the place and the music at full volume. Suguru began to greet his teammates, most of them were faces you recognized from the game you had attended, but others were new faces.

“Suguru!!” You heard the voice of the person, who had been embedded in your brain for some time.

He appeared in the crowd, with a smile on his face and a glass in one of his hands. He was wearing a suit, just like that time he showed up at your work, but this one wasn't as elegant, it was more casual. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing part of his chest.

You wondered if it was his doing to unbutton those buttons or if he had already been having a good time with someone before you arrived. Maybe with that girl from that time.

You turned your head away from where he was and cursed yourself for thinking that.

“Hey Satoru.” Your best friend spoke.

“Oh girls!” He said happily. “You are here too.” You felt him approaching you. Shit.” Hey birdie, you are not going to say hi to me?” You were looking away from him.

You slowly turned to look at him and put on your best smile. “Hi Satoru.”

Satoru stared at you in silence, for longer than you thought he would. You could see his Adam apple moving up and down, as if he was trying to regain composure with that movement.

You smirked to yourself knowing it was the perfect opportunity to tease him. “What Satoru the cat got your tongue?” Placing a hand on your waist you spoke again. “Or I look so hot that you forgot how to speak?”

He closed his mouth, which was slightly opened and a small smile draw on his lips. “Yeah birdie, you look so freaking hot that I forgot how to breathe for a moment.”

Shit.

You should have prepared yourself knowing what Satoru Gojo was like and that he could come up with something like that. But damn, you loved it.

Trying to suppress the restless rise and fall of your pulse and chest, agitated by the impact his words and that hoarse voice had had on you, you forced a smile. You smiled as if it didn't matter, as if her words hadn't unleashed a whirlwind of emotions inside you.

But the reality was very different. Satoru's words had ignited a storm inside you, swirling with a tumultuous mix of feelings that you struggled to contain. Despite your best efforts to appear unaffected, the turmoil it had caused remained beneath the surface, threatening to erupt like a volcano.

You took a deep breath. Would it be that night? The night you'd finally accept something you'd been trying to suppress for weeks? Or would you just let it go and lock it in the deepest drawer?

Satoru Gojo pov

Satoru felt like his legs might give out beneath him, which is why he had held them steady when he saw you.

His gaze first saw his best friend Suguru, then Kyoko, and finally his eyes landed on you. And damn it. The word beautiful was not enough to describe you that night.

Seeing you in that red dress, accentuating every curve of your figure, along with those impressive high boots, took his breath away. Satoru felt helpless in the presence of your beauty, and tonight he knew he would be at his weakest point.

Unbeknownst to you, just like you, Satoru Gojo's insides were a whirlwind of emotions, he was reeling, overwhelmed by the sheer magnetism you exuded. He knew that tonight he would be at your mercy, completely captivated by just your presence.

“You want a drink?” He spoke pointing at the bar behind him.

“Yeah, sure.” You walked besides him. “I though you didn’t drink.”

Satoru looked at his cup. “It’s mainly soda with a bit of alcohol, but only from time to time. I am not a big fan of alcohol.” You nodded and turned to ask for a drink. “It’s good you came.” He got closer so you could hear him.

“And why it’s that?” You smirked, grabbing your straw and taking a small sip. “You would miss me if I didn’t come?”

Yes. But he was unable to say it out loud. “You deserve a break from all the stress.”

“That includes you.” You said teasing him.

“Don’t be bad birdie. I know you love me.” He joked but he secretly longed for it.

“Nah.” You shook your head , you approached his ear to speak to him. “When they called your name and then mine for the project I seriously considered leaving class.” Satoru felt offended by your words, did you hate him that much? “But now my dislike for you has gone from 95% to 35%.”

“A 35%?” He opened his eyes.

“There are times I want to kick your ass so badly.” You shrugged and sipped at the straw again. “You should be glad it went from 95 to 35.”

“Of course it went down, with this face.”

“Now it’s 37%” You said while rolling your eyes.

“Ouch.” He touched his chest as if it hurt his feelings. “Anyways, birdie, let me introduce you to some of our teammates.”

Satoru hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether he should reach out and take your hand. It wouldn't be the first time he did it, but this moment would be different. The last time he held your hand, at the lake, you were on the verge of tears, almost having a panic attack. Now, at this party, you were both having fun.

He looked at your hand and then back at your face, noticing the confused expression as you wondered what he was doing. Gathering all the courage he could muster, Satoru decided to act. He gently took your hand and led you in front of him to where his teammates were gathered.

As he led you through the crowd, Satoru's heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. His hands were sweating and he prayed that you wouldn't notice.

Upon reaching his teammates, Satoru gave you a small squeeze and placed you next to him, still holding onto his hand.

“Guys!” Satoru's voice echoed in the space where the team was, causing the curious gaze of his teammates to rest on him and also on you. “She is…” Satoru said your name pointing his hand at you. His companions then began to murmur under their breath while his gaze remained glued to you.

“Captain! Is she your girlfriend?” Satoru swallowed hard and controlled himself so that a crimson red wouldn't stain his cheeks.

“No Yuji, she is not.” Satoru responded a bit irritated.

“Do you really think Captain Gojo would be able to get a girlfriend?” The vein on Satoru's forehead began to swell. It had definitely been a bad idea bringing you to meet these brats.

“Megumi…” Satoru snorted through his nose. “Don't pass or you'll be on the bench next week.” To which Megumi responded by turning around and sitting in one of the back chairs, without giving it any importance.

“I’m Yuji!” Yuji approached you with a smile.

“Nice to meet you Yuji.” You said finally letting Satoru’s hand go.

“You should meet the others too!” He said. “This is my first year in the team, well I just started college, but everyone is very nice.”

“Is Satoru nice too?” Satoru felt a small blush on his cheeks again after hearing you ask that question. “If you want we can get away from him and then you can criticize him.” You joked and Satoru smirked.

“Oh no, no.” Yuji shook his head. “Captain Gojo is truly an amazing player and amazing captain! I’m glad he is my mentor.” He widely smiled.

“Oh impressive Satoru.” You said looking at him.

Satoru shrugged and smiled. “What can I say, I'm the best.”

“You’re the best.” You said at the same time laughing.

“Captain…” A deep voice talked behind both of you, you lifted your head to be met with a tall blonde guy.

Oh Haibara’s friend.

“Nanami!!” Satoru happily shouted, to which Nanami reacted rolling his eyes. “Birdie, this is Nanami.” He pointed at him.

“Nice to meet you.” Nanami did a small bow.

“You are Haibara’s friend right?” He nodded. “I saw you a couple of times outside the store waiting for him.”

“You work with Haibara?” You nodded. “Oh so you’re the super nice coworker he always talks about.”

“I guess so.” You smiled. “You also play on the basketball team?” You tilted your head.

“Unfortunately.” You looked at him confused for his response. “Captain Gojo is a pain in my ass most of the time.”

“I understand what you mean.” You laugh recalling how you had Satoru saved on your phone.

Satoru coughed sharply causing you both to turn to look at him. “I think that's enough for today, Nanami, why don't you go get some drinks? I want the same thing as always, okay?” He said as he pushed Nanami away.

“Satoru, why was that?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

Satoru rolled his eyes again. “It’s just that…” But the sentence was left in the air when Shoko’s voice sounded louder than his, calling your name.

“I finally found you.” She hugged you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Shoko!” You said as you moved away a little. “You already drank something?”

“Just a shot. I’m okay, I swear.” She raised her hands. “Now come with me, Kyoko and Yuki are waiting for us to dance.”

“Yuki?” You said confused.

“I will introduce you now. Now let’s go!” She started pulling you. “Let's leave these idiots here.”

Taking one last glance at Satoru and offering a small smile, you bowed your head before disappearing into the bustling crowd of people. Satoru watched you leave, a slight smile on his lips, before exhaling heavily through his mouth.

He walked over to the couch where Megumi was sitting and sank down next to him. Leaning back against the backrest, Satoru looked up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

“Captain Gojo, you seem distressed.” He heard Megumi talking.

“It’s nothing, kid.” He shook his head. “And by the way how come you are here? You usually hate this type of place.”

Megumi sighed heavily. “That idiot brought me here.” He pointed at Yuji who was now grabbing snacks from a nearby table.

Satoru opened his mouth in o shaped form and nodded. “You two are really close aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Megumi inquired with a nervous look.

“Nothing. I mean if you two are close in that type of way then it’s fine by me. And if anyone in the team says something inappropriate, make sure to tell me. I will handle it.” Satoru explained.

Megumi stood up. “Thank you captain, but it’s okay… we are okay.” Satoru noticed the small blush on Megumi’s cheeks and smiled as he walked away to where Yuji was.

Satoru looked around the place and spotted you on the dance floor. He watched you from the side, he observed you as you danced and laughed with Kyoko, Shoko and who he guessed was Yuki, the one Shoko mentioned before. It was rare to see you so carefree, and he couldn't help but feel his chest swell with happiness at the sight.

As you moved gracefully on the dance floor, your laughter filled the air and Satoru found himself captivated by the joy that radiated from you. He couldn't look away from you, mesmerized by the way you moved, the way you laughed, the way you simply existed in that moment. It was as if the world disappeared into the background, leaving only you.

He looked at his drink and his thoughts returned to the conversation he had with Suguru last week. It had been a jolt of reality, to say the least.

Satoru had come face to face with the truth: the feelings he harbored towards you had been there for a long time. It wasn't a simple crush; he was deeper than that. The weeks of interaction had only intensified his emotions, revealing a deep feeling he had rarely experienced.

Reflecting on it now, Satoru realized that he had been in love with you long before he fully acknowledged it. He had fallen in love with you from a distance, watching how you interacted with others, listening to what people said about you, and admiring your dedication and diligence.

It was a realization that excited him and at the same time made him nervous. Satoru was used to being confident and self-assured, but when it came to matters of the heart, he found himself navigating uncharted territory. If he had had girlfriends, he had dated different people, but on the vast majority of occasions he had been without any deeper interest.

Sighing he looked back at your figure on the dance floor.

“If I didn’t know how you felt about her I would think you are a pervert or something like that.” Suguru sat next to him.

Satoru just rolled his eyes and took his cup once again. “I’m just watching her, nothing else.”

“Yeah like a creep.” His friend pointed out. “Why don’t you go and ask her to dance with you?”

“You think she will accept?”

“What’s the worst that could happen? You get your ass kicked? I will have my phone ready just in case.”

“Geez you are annoying.” Satoru said punching Suguru’s arm.

“C’mon man! Where is all your ego and confidence?” He challenged.

Satoru stood up and looked at Suguru. “Watch me.”

“Your legs are trembling Satoru!” Suguru shouted from the distance to which Satoru responded by showing his middle finger.

But oh boy, he was for real trembling. That was the effect you have on him after all.

Your pov

Your body swayed to the infectious rhythm of the music as you continued sipping from your second glass of the night. You were cautious not to drink too much, but Shoko's insistence that it was a night to let loose and have fun had led you to indulge a bit more.

Amidst the pulsating beats, you also met Yuki, she was older than you and she happened to be dating Choso, your old crush from your first year. Now, the four of you were on the dance floor, fully immersed in the music, letting the heat and energy of the moment wash over you.

The dance floor became a blur of movement as you all threw yourselves into the music, laughing and enjoying each other's company. The atmosphere was electric, the air filled with excitement and camaraderie as you danced the night away, feeling the warmth rising through your bodies with every step and beat.

You noticed Shoko giving Kyoko a subtle nudge, followed by a knowing smile and a raised eyebrow exchange between them. “I'm exhausted.” Shoko announced abruptly. “Let's sit.”

You nodded, ready to follow Shoko, but Kyoko halted you with a smile and a nod towards her side. Confused, you followed her gaze, only to find Satoru standing a few meters away. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the heat of the club, and his gaze was fixed on you with unwavering intensity.

Your heart quickened as Satoru began to make his way towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. Glancing back at Kyoko, you found that she, along with Shoko, and Yuki had vanished from your sight, leaving you alone with Satoru.

“Hey.” Satoru said when he was finally near you.

“Hi.” You said with a louder tone so he could hear you.

“You having fun?” He questioned getting closer, so you could hear him.

You nodded. “So much. I was dancing with the girls until now.”

“Is that your second drink?” He pointed to the cup in your hands.

“Yeah! Shoko insisted but it’s fine by me, so don’t worry.” You moved your hand around. “Are you having fun too Satoru?” You asked him this time.

“I am.” He smiled and took a deep breath. “Wanna dance with me the next song?”

Oh. You were caught off guard by Satoru's invitation to dance, you hesitated for a moment, the pulse of the music pounding in your ears. But the prospect of dancing with him, of being close to him, was too tempting to resist.

“Yeah, sure.” You finally replied with a smile spreading across your face. “But let me finish my drink.”

“Drink slowly, I don’t want you throwing up on me once again.” He once again teased you, so you decided to tease him back.

“Oh. It went up.” You smirked looking at him. “Now it’s 39%.”

“Okay, okay, I will stop teasing but just be careful.”

“Yes dad!” You said, rolling your eyes. “Alright.” You placed the empty glass on a table. “Let’s go!”

Satoru's smile widened, a sparkle of excitement in his eyes as he took your hand and led you towards the dance floor. When the next song started playing, you fell into rhythm with him.

In the dim lights of the club, surrounded by the pulsating energy of the crowd, you lost yourself in the moment, swaying and spinning with Satoru, as your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, as if you had been doing this for years, as if you were one.

And as you danced, the world started to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the music and lost in the connection that existed between the two of you.

As the music hummed around you and the heat of the dance floor enveloped you. Satoru's hand rested on your waist causing a surge of electricity to course through you, igniting a fiery passion simmering just beneath the surface.

With every step, every movement of your bodies, the tension between you became palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Your movements became more fluid, more sensual, as they let themselves be carried away by the rhythm of the song that was playing.

As the song reached its climax, Satoru pulled you closer, his gaze looking at you with burning desire. And in that moment, with the music pulsing in your veins and the heat of his body against yours.

“Birdie, I swear you are driving me fucking crazy.” He said but only you were able to hear his words.

You wanted to play, you wanted to wrap him around your finger. “How Satoru?” You got yourself closer to him. “How am I driving you crazy?” You lifted your gaze, leaving both of your gazes connected.

One more step and your chest would be completely stuck together. One more step and what you would feel would be his heat mixing with yours. One more step and everything you have been trying to ignore would fall on you like a house of cards.

It was just one step.

Just one.

And you were about to give that step when you saw a silhouette in the distance, making your blood freeze.

“Fuck.” You muttered realizing who was in that club too, someone you had secretly hoped and prayed to avoid encountering him again ever since you quit working at that bar.

Final notes: itafushi and chosoyuki crumbs on the same chapter? exactly 🙂‍↕️ Also who do you think Birdie saw?

— if you want to be tagged, comment below

🏷️: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic, @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @lolsasuke , @milk3evee

[nightcourtreader]

I am seeing a lot of gwynriels getting hate lately because we’re excited about new character information about Az and a lot of people believing that Azriel’s book is next.

I feel like it’s fair, as readers to point out how the author is deliberately bringing a lot of attention to Azriel at the moment. It’s absolutely fair to believe that Azriel’s book is going to be next. We all know that Elain and Azriel’s stories are going to be told and it’s just a matter of when. A lot of people just think that it’s Azriel next and that’s fine if you disagree, but gwynriels shouldn’t be attacked or called delusional if they think that.

But being called delusional when we think that when SJM has build on Azriel’s character arc purposely since we’ve seen him on page since acomaf, gave him a bonus for acosf, then had him feature in cc3, then have him apart of a bonus again for cc3 is crazy. Especially since we learned more about Azriel in cc3.

Then people are dissing the hell out of Gwyn. Oh she’s just a side character, she isn’t important. Isn’t everyone a side character at the moment besides feysand & Nessian? Since they already had their stories told. And wasn’t Gwyn the one to introduce the valkryie storyline in acosf & became the first valkryie when the valkryie plotline is a huge plotline of acosf to the point where SJM named the different sections of acosf valkryie titles? And SJM could have easily had nesta become the first valkryie.

Gwyn can absolutely have a pov with Azriel in the next book. SJM herself stated she has two more acotar books (I’m not sure if she’s contracted for more). She said for each book, a couple is going to come together. That leaves 2 pov besides Azriel and Elain because we know she’s going to give them one. For Azriel’s counter part, it could easily be Gywn.

Gwyn is still in the library. The valkryies are still training. Gwyn has a autumn court ancestry, no matter how many people claim she doesn’t have a firm claim for it. Gwyn’s powers are a very popular controversial topic in the fandom on the daily. Gywn’s story is left opened and SJM didn’t add all that to Gwyn’s backstory for no reason. She retcon the sangravah story so Azriel was the one to save Gwyn. SJM dropped mate language in her BC with Azriel and Gwyn and yes, SJM references her bonus chapters in text. She did so in acosf when it came to cassian’s & nesta’s bonus chapter for acomaf, titled wings and ember.

Yrene in tog, was really fledged out in tower of Dawn and became a really important factor in the next book in the series, kingdom of ash. Why couldn’t the same thing be said for Gwyn? Just because she was introduced in acosf, doesn’t mean that Gwyn can’t have a pov in the next book.

There are different plotlines for Azriel to go through in his story. It’s not like he has 0 plotlines to filter through. SJM would be the one to decide what plotlines have the sense of urgency for the next acotar book.

CC3 can be used for evidence, because the author herself stated that cc3 will set up future acotar books. You know what acotar 5 is? A future acotar book since it isn’t out yet. From what I’ve seen, since I haven’t read cc3 yet, Azriel is a prominent figure besides nesta in cc3 when it comes to the acotar characters. If SJM herself is stating that cc3 sets up future acotar books, why wouldn’t we use cc3 of evidence for Azriel, especially since nesta’s story has already been told? So yes we can use that as evidence. We shouldn’t be talked down about and called delusional for it.

Yes CC is a separate series. But SJM recently stated that we should read acotar before reading CC now, at one point of time she said we didn’t have to. See how things have changed?

If she’s telling people to read acotar before cc, does it matter if she’s not telling people to read cc before acotar 5, when she’s already stated to read acotar before CC so no matter what readers are understanding what’s going on in both series no matter the order since acotar 5 isn’t out yet? She’s telling us to read both series regardless.

I get it, some people might not want to read the CC and they don’t have to, but I have seen people who said they aren’t going to read CC but are still asking for information about the acotar characters in it, and with people talking about it, they are going to find out about the information of acotar characters in CC anyway, whether they read the full book or not.

And I’m sick of e/riels claiming that since Azriel is being brought up a lot, it’s going to be Azriel and Elain’s next. To the point, when new fans are asking about who’s the next book, they’re “confirming” it’s Elain and Azriel’s. Which is ridiculous. Because when it comes to the two, Elain would be the one to strong hold the book, not Azriel. SJM hasn’t brought Elain to the forefront as she’s doing Azriel lately, if anything, it just shows to me how SJM isn’t going to have a book with BOTH Azriel and Elain together. Just not happening.

But I need people to stop being mad/upset at gwynriels because we’re pointing out things from textual evidence that the author has set up. We could be wrong, I agree, but stop making it like we have no standing, that were dumb & delusional.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

i’ve been hiding the comeback of apple pie for- months.

FIVE more chapters in the works and this is only the first one.

Apple pie part 6

Warnings: Mentions of throw up, angst and depictions of panic attacks.

I’m so excited for you guys to read this.

————————————————————————

ding

That chirping noise of the bell above the front door of your shop that somehow still made you jump even if you’ve been here every single day for 12 hours.

Was it smart to use all of your savings to open up your own flower shop? Probably not. Yet you didn’t have a single care in the world. Moving to the city was probably the best decision you could’ve made for yourself. Trying to forget a life you once knew, that person you used to be.

Your flower shop was unique though. Yes you sell bouquets, but If people were having a hard time picking what they wanted, you would make them a bouquet of their own 12 flowers. And since it was spring, business was booming. Your eyes flicked up, a wide smile growing across your face as you watched a man walk in, his eyes scanning over all of the separate bouquets.

Your fingers held at the knife in your hand, picking the thorns off the white roses between your fingers. Your form finally focuses back onto the bouquet you were creating, the pink ribbon resting on the counter. 12pm and the store was still this dead.

Your body jolted as the man who walked in earlier was in front of the counter, your finger pushing up onto the thorn on the stem making you hiss as you quickly pressed your now bleeding finger into your jeans before you looked up at him.

“What can I help you with?”

Handsome. The scruff on his face shaped perfection to him, and his smile was even better, his dark brown hair and broad shoulders making you wonder if he would be able to tell if you were staring.

“Sorry to scare you, Is your finger okay?”

His voice was like butter too? You were sure you looked almost starstruck, your head shaking as you let out a short laugh.

“Please, I’m my only employee, I cut myself so many times a week.”

The man chuckled softly, his eyes gazing over the braid on your shoulder and the glasses on your face. Then it hit you, this is the same man who’s been passing by every week. You noticed he would peer in whenever you were moving new pots in, but the shop is right next to a bakery so you assumed maybe people just looked.

“Not to sound like a stalker but, I was wondering If you wanted to go out sometime”

Was he really asking you out? Your heart was beating in your ears as you accidentally let out a huff, your eyes flickered around the shop as his hand rested against the counter.

“You’re asking somebody out and we haven’t even exchanged names?”

Your sentence made him smile yet again and god, did you enjoy seeing it. He shrugged, putting his larger hand out across the counter.

“You’re right, how rude of me. Chris Redfield.”

Your bleeding finger suddenly stopped, allowing you to reach your hand up, grabbing at his and smiling widely as you both exchanged a firm handshake.

“Well, I would love to go out sometime, Chris.”

Anybody should be flattered when a handsome man asks them out, right?

Right.

The view from your apartment was gorgeous. Especially at night time. The air lingered with silence as you poured yourself a glass of red wine, your heater turning on as you began to walk towards the chair you had facing the big open window by your living area. You sat down with a soft sigh, your legs crossing as you took a long sip of the thick red liquid. How many bottles did you go through this week anyways.

Your other hand comes up to rub your bare arm, your body flinching as you quickly pull your fingers away. A loud sigh leaves you as tears quickly weld in your eyes, the wine glass in your hand tilting back as you suddenly gulped down the liquid, a thin red line of spilled wine running down your chin as you just watched the active city below you.

Where could he be? You wondered as you wiped your chin, four years is a long time right? He has definitely forgotten after four years.

Maybe he went back for you.

This is a mental battle you’ve had with yourself everyday for the last year since you left your hometown. Selling your house to a single mom, who had promised to keep your garden alive when you left. The thought of him showing up to not find you always left you broken. But he had all that time, there’s no way he showed up.

It’s why you moved. You couldn’t keep yourself there with the hope that one day he would appear again. You had this sick fantasy that he would come back and everything would go back to normal, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. It killed your mental health and it still does.

Yet here you were, going on a date with some man that you don’t even know. You could hear Leon in the back of your head lecturing you about how stupid it is to give strangers your number, let alone your apartment number. You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of a knock at the door, the sound of your heels clicking filling the apartment as you walked to the front and swung it open to see Chris.

You blinked at him a few times then looked down at the bouquet of pink roses and daisies in his hands. His arm extends to hand them to you carefully.

“Wow, these are beautiful, thank you so much.”

Yet there was a heavy feeling in your throat at the sight of the daisies. You refused to grow them at your shop and there was a reason why. You swallowed the lump in your throat, quickly inviting the man into the apartment as you hurried to the kitchen to put them in a vase.

“Not as beautiful as you though, not to sound overly sappy or anything.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shook your head, tucking some hair behind your ear as you set the vase of flowers on your counter and looking at him.

“What, you talk to girls like this all the time?”

Chris shook his head as the two of you began to walk to the front door, his head shaking as he held it open for you and let you lock it.

“Personally, women don’t really talk to me”

—————————————————————-

There’s no way women don’t talk to Chris redfield.

The two of you have been at this fancy restaurant he took you to for hours, laughing up a storm over random jokes and old childhood embarrassing stories. Your eyes scanned over his arms and his shirt before you tilted your head leaning forward a bit.

“I can’t believe I've never asked, what do you do for work?”

It’s to forward a question.

What if he lies to you?

How can you know he’s being honest-

“Well my career started when I was very young. I enrolled in the United States air force. Then I got tired of it I guess, started working at this place called Racoon City Police Department for a special service squad. Now I work for a private government agency, sorry if that scared you away. I know it may seem like my job is dangerous but I guarantee I'm fine.”

His honesty hit you like a truck. You blinked at him a few times processing what he had told you before a bell very similar to the one in your store rang in your head..

“Racoon City?”

You spoke, your fingers stopped tapping at the table as you looked across at Chris who just slowly nodded.

Don’t bring it up.

“Well it doesn’t push me away. I like a man in uniform.”

Hitting him back with corny pickup lines was your perfect solution.

“I’m supposed to go to this big company party next week, I don’t have a plus one. You should come with me.”

Chris spoke as he glanced at you after taking a bite of his food.

Saying yes was definitely far out of your comfort zone but, you’ve known him for about a month now. What could possibly go wrong anyways

——————————————————————

“Grief isn't just the mourn of death. Grief can hit you in so many ways, and the way it processes in your brain makes it harder to heal.”

Hearing your therapist's words made a soft sigh leave your lips as you just nodded your head. staring at the wall behind her as she just looked at you.

“You can’t hold onto the fact that maybe he was going to come back, you’ll drive yourself crazy forever.”

Plus, you had Chris now. He was an angel, he treated you so right and even if you didn’t want to talk about your ex- who wasn’t even really your ex but you were in love with him. He never made you happy.

Yet the way Chris treats you makes you wonder if the two of you could’ve been like this, sometimes you close your eyes and imagine that simple life with Leon but it can never happen. Not now.

——————————————————————

The weather has been so bad. Pouring every single day and Chris knows how much storms scare you. So staying at his house was definitely a blessing. The two of you weren’t dating yet, It’s only been two months and he says he knows what he wants but you’re not sure you believe him yet.

He works these awfully long hours leaving you alone in his house laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The sound of the rain growing heavier gains your attention as you glance over at the window, your heart suddenly racing as you clear your throat sitting up.

——-

The memory is clear as day still.

Your eyes fixated on your window in your bedroom. Your head snapping as you hear Leon whistle walking into the room.

“I hate-“

“You hate storms, you bring it up everytime it rains you know.”

Leon spoke with a small smile as he sat down on the bed, his fingers gently grabbing at your wrist, frowning slightly to feel how elevated your heart beat is. He quickly pulls you to his chest, making sure you’re comfortable. He loves how soft your hair is, his fingers running through the strands of your hair as you both soak in the silence.

“If something ever happened. Like we were to get separated and I haven’t seen you in years- I bet you’d pretend like you never knew me.”

Leon let your sentence settle for a second, his eyebrows frowned as he shook his head, his eyes dancing over the odd pattern of your ceiling as he gently gripped your shoulder and looked down at you.

“I would never pretend to not know you.”

——-

You don’t know why but the thought makes you sick. Sprinting to Chris’ bathroom, holding onto your stomach as you throw up, your hands grabbing at the floor now as tears quickly spring to your eyes. Then you’re gasping for breath, shaking your head as you stand up, your shaking palms reaching for the sink.

Everything is dizzy, and almost cloudy. You turn the water on, quickly splashing your face. Your vision is still dancing when you look up into the mirror, the edges starting to clear as you let out a long breath.

It’s hard being in a hole.

———————-

“Chris can you please zip this up, i don’t have the patience.”

The words came out jumbled and stressed, your skin rising with goosebumps when Chris’ fingers brush against your back, zipping up the dress with ease before he leans down slightly. Kissing at your shoulder as he grips at your arms. His thumbs caressing over your soft skin.

“As beautiful as the day I first saw you.”

Chris was what you needed. In a time where you felt most alone he showed up. He looked so handsome in his suit, you lick at your thumb as you fix his eyebrows, smiling as he grabs at your waist.

“You ready? Or do you need more time.”

He always worked around you.

“I’m ready but- thank you.”

Chris always rambled on about how his work space was honestly great. You couldn’t tell if he was lying because you use to say the same thing when you worked at the diner. The drive was suppose to be almost half an hour but it felt like two minutes.

Chris always opened the car door for you, his hand holding onto yours tightly as you two walked through the parking lot.

Your palms were sweaty, a feeling of unease lingering in the air.Something just felt off- almost like you were scared but of what?

Its badges of honor. Of course Chris was getting one but he didn’t tell you who else. The two of you were standing in the lobby of this giant hall forever, when the sound of Chris name made your head turn.

It all made sense. It felt like the blood was drained from your body, Chris’ hand slipping off your lower back to hug him.

Him?

Chris finally turns back to you, a wide smile on his face.

“Can’t believe I've never mentioned him. This is my friend, Leon.”

Your eyes are wide. Your throat feels like it’s swelling .

Leon too of course. His face white and his gaze fixated on your visibly shaken form

All before he extends his hand out to you.

“Leon Kennedy, pleasure.”

[maverick-wingman]

Broken Skies (Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell! Reader) Chapter 1

Note: I apologize for the long long wait. I was really lacking motivation and just on a long writer's block for the past few months. But here is Chapter 1 for Broken Skies. The Sneak Peak is linked below for those that have not read it yet. And also thank you @justabigassnerd and @callsign-dexter for motivating me to write more! ❤️

This is a redo of my Bradley Bradshaw Part 1. This is more of a prequel rather than a sneak peek this time. Mel - “one who is fearless and daring.” Canon characters are out of character. Iceman will be healthy in this fic. 

Warnings: Nothing big, maybe angst, other than a brief mention of death, and military inaccuracies. NOT grammar/spelling checked. Some switching between first names and callsigns.

Masterlist | Sneak Peek | Chapter 1

In the room with Cyclone and Warlock, Maverick looked at the screen and saw 2 very familiar faces. Cyclone looked at Maverick and asked, “Is there a problem, Captain?” Maverick looks at him, “You know there is sir.” Cyclone signed and zoomed in on your picture, “Lieutenant Mitchell, callsign Mel, one of the best pilots I have seen in years. She was top of her class. Two confirmed air-to-air kills. You must be very proud. Captain.” Maverick smiles, “I am, sir. I’m proud of her every day.”  

Maverick was indeed proud. Starting from the second you were born, he knew you would be a mini him the second he got called for a parent-teacher meeting for you not following directions and being a bit rebellious. There was also the first time he took you on your first little joyride, instead of being scared like  most people that are thousands of feet up in the air going hundreds of miles per hour, you were so excited. You had the time of your life. You especially loved when he did aerobatics. You kept on asking him to do another one, he often wondered how you never got dizzy or felt nauseous. As you grew older, you went on to be just like him.  If not, maybe even a little better. Now here you are, getting called back to Top Gun to be a possible candidate for a special detachment. This isn’t like the past missions you’ve been on. This is life or death. He knows there is a chance someone isn’t coming back. 

Cyclone then zoomed in on another person. Rooster. “Bradley Bradshaw aka Rooster. I understand you flew with his old man. What was his call-sign again?” “Goose, sir” “Tragic what happened.” Warlock cuts in defending Maverick. All Maverick could do was nod. Memories of what happened replaying in his mind.

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“Dad?” You saw your dad sitting by the bar alone. You thought he’s in the desert working on the Death Star. Why is he here?  He turned around and you smiled excitedly going over and hugging him as tight as possible. You felt him hug back just as tight. “Hey sweetheart.” You always loved the daddy-daughter hugs. It made you feel safe and relaxed. You haven’t seen him in person in almost a year. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you’re supposed to be somewhere in the desert.” You saw the look he gave and you couldn’t help but grin. “You pissed off another admiral, didn’t you?” He chuckled at your response. “You could say that.” You sat next to him. “So… what are you doing here at North Island? Did Uncle Ice tell you I was here?”  You asked him. 

“Well uh…. in a manner of speaking.” You noticed the look your dad had. There was worry in his eyes. You hadn’t seen that look in a long time. “You’re here for the detachment… aren’t you? That’s why you’re here.” He gave you a look. You knew the answer. “How bad is it going to be?” You looked to your dad. “I can’t say too much yet, but … this is something no one’s ever seen.” All you could do was nod. Before you can react you felt him rub your shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re the best fighter pilot I know.” You let out a little chuckle, “don’t let Uncle Ice hear you say that.” You heard him let out some chuckles.

You talked with your dad for a little longer to catch up on everything. He told you that the Kazansky’s invited you both over for dinner tomorrow night. You were excited, as you have seen your Uncle Ice and Aunt Sarah in a while. You heard your name being called, looking over you saw Jake and Javy calling you over. You heard your dad’s voice, “go on, go catch up with them.” You looked over to him. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure. We have plenty of time to catch up more.” You smiled and hugged him one last time before going over. 

“What’s Pops doing here?” Jake asked after pulling you into a hug. You didn’t want to ruin the surprise. “He’s here visiting old friends.” You responded as Javy pulled you in for a side hug. 

As you talked, you caught up with Phoenix, you met some new members: Bob, who was so sweet, Payback and Fanboy who both were really nice, although you felt a little competitiveness between them and Jake and Javy. Jake would not stop teasing Bob, you had to nudge him a few times hoping he’d stop messing with the guy. 

Maverick watched as his little girl bonded with her teammates. Despite Jake's reputation he trusted him that he wouldn’t leave his daughter behind, but he is unsure if he would do the same for the rest of the team.

You looked over and saw a familiar face entering the Hard Deck. Bradley Bradshaw.

Bradley walked over to the group. “Bradshaw.” “Hangman… you look good” “Well, I am good Rooster, I’m very good. In fact, I’m too good to be true.” Hangman responds, smirking. Bradley then looked over to you. “Mel.” “Rooster.” “Why am I not surprised you’re here?” You rolled your eyes, scoffing at his remark. You knew what he was thinking, he still believed the reason  you made it this far is because of your dad and uncle. “Well who else did you expect?”  

Before Bradley could say another word, Jake cuts in, “you’re just jealous Bradshaw, admit it, you will never fly like Mel here. She takes risks unlike a certain someone. She’ll make a great mission leader, but anyone that follows you will just run out of fuel. Waiting for the right moment that never comes.” You felt Jake’s arm snake around your shoulders. 

Jake is your best friend, you could say. Sure, during training he would leave his wingman and fly off, but during the missions he was never like that. At least not to you. He saved your  life; that’s how he got his first confirmed air to air kill. If it wasn’t for him, you would not be standing here right now.

Bradley suddenly felt a ping of jealousy growing inside him. Since when were you and Hangman so close? But Bradley being Bradlet, he chose to ignore it. “And anyone that follows you will just end up in a grave.” That ticked you off a little. You wished Jake would let you tell everyone what really happened that day. You don’t get why Jake wants to keep it a secret, he loves to show off. Only a few people know the exact details. 

“They’re on me! I can’t shake them!” you said with a panicking voice. With an enemy aircraft chasing after you at full speed. Trying different maneuvers, you dodged as many bullets that you could. That’s when you heard a beeping sound; the enemy got a lock on you. Just as  you started accepting your fate, there was an explosion sound. You looked over and saw the enemy fighter jet blowing up into pieces. “You owe me a drink, Mel.” Y/N looked over and saw Hangman giving her a grin. He just saved your life, for once not living up to his callsign.

After that, it was Hangman and Mel. Jake and Y/N. You became best friends and each other’s wingperson.

Other than Rear Admiral Jackson, Javy, Maverick and Iceman, no one knew it was Jake that saved you. Jake wanted to keep it a secret. With the help from Iceman, no one knew what really happened. Because the mission only needed 2 pilots, it made it easier to hide the truth.

Maverick was watching the whole scene play out in front of him, feeling the guilt bubble inside him knowing he was the reason his daughter and Bradley are no longer friends. He remembers how close they were as kids, how they never left each other’s side. He hopes this mission will bring them together again.

The night went on, he ended up being broke after not realizing the rules at Penny’s bar. Jake and the others had the joy of “throwing” him out of the bar. You knew it was all fun and games. You knew your dad took a liking to him after he saved your life that day. Even you let out a little laugh watching it all play out. 

You heard a familiar tune starting to play in the background, you looked over to the piano and saw Bradley sitting there. The tune that your uncle Goose, Bradley’s dad always plays. You remembered how you and Bradley would sit on the piano with your dad, Uncle Goose and Aunt Carole gathered around singing “Great Balls of Fire” together. Your eyes wandered around and noticed your dad outside staring towards where Bradley is. You knew he misses them too. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat next to Jake and Javy waiting for the debrief to start. You had this feeling that something was going to happen today and it was not the good kind of feeling. You know Bradley will not be happy knowing who the instructor for the detachment is going to be. You also know he will be mad that you didn’t warn him. But he has no right to feel that way. After all, you two were basically on no speaking terms. Cyclone’s voice disrupted your thoughts. “Good morning aviators.” 

At morning debriefing, Cyclone and Warlock went over the details of this mission. Just from hearing the details about what is going to happen, you knew this was going to be a detachment like no other. As he introduced who the instructor was going to be, you knew exactly who they were talking about, even though you already found out last night. You only know one person that fits the description so perfectly. 

You couldn’t help but look over to Bradley, wondering how he is going to react when he sees your dad. You can see him tense up as he sees your dad walk in. This is going to be a very long day. Bradley made eye contact with you and he was not happy, just as you had predicted minutes ago.  After the debrief, you and everyone else waited to be selected to go up in the air. First ones up were you, Phoenix, Bob, and Rooster. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

As you walked towards your fighter jet when you heard your name being called. “Why didn’t you tell me he was going to be the instructor?” You knew he was going to ask this. “How am I supposed to tell you if all we ever do is argue when we talk?” “Yea, well you’re the one that always starts it” “Are you serious Bradley? Look at us. Besides, would it really make a difference if I did?” “Yea, it actually would have.” 

As the training session went on, no one has been able to get a lock on Maverick. not even you. You were close but he is always steps ahead. And thanks to the little bet, everyone was punished with 200 pushups.

Now it is time for Phoenix, Bob, Hangman, and Roosters turn. You listened to the radio as Jake asked Bradley some personal questions. There was one secret you never told Jake, it was the exact details about you, your dad, and Bradley. All he knows is you and Bradley had an argument, he left and that was that. 

You heard your dad’s voice. Encouraging Bradley to take a little risk instead of playing it safe. Jake’s voice came in warning them about getting below the hard deck level amd telling Rooster to take the shot. Soon through the radio, you head the alerts going off telling them to pull up. You are holding your breath at this point. No matter how upset you were at Bradley, you didn’t want to lose him and your dad.  A few seconds later, you heard your dad’s voice. He got a lock on Bradley. What on earth were they thinking?

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You stormed up to Bradley angry. “What was that Bradshaw?! Are you trying to get kicked out?” “Oh like you care, you probably would love to see me off this mission.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It’s like he never changed. “I worked hard to get here and you know it!” “Well not everyone is lucky enough to have their dad and the Commander of the Pacific Fleet as their teacher!” He snapped back. You froze, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth. Not wanting to continue this anymore, you shook your head and walked away in silence. You knew if you stayed longer, you would end up saying something you’d regret, and possibly escalating the argument.

“Why are you such close friends with Hangman? You know what type of person he is!” You stopped in your tracks. Why did he change the conversation to this? Was he jealous? You turned around facing him once again, letting out your anger. “You’re right, I know what type of person he is. You don’t! You let your judgments get clouded too easily, you’ll just assume the worst in people!” You saw the look Bradley had on his face, hearing him let out a scoff, “all he ever did was leave his wingman behind! Everyone knows that! Why won’t you believe me?!” 

You don’t know what came over yourself. You’ve kept it in for years. Coming up with reasons why Bradley cut off contact with you, why he barely said anything to you during your time at Top Gun, why he treated you like you were nothing. He didn’t even believe you told him that you had nothing to do with his application being pulled. And now all of a sudden he cares about who you’re friends with. You knew what Hangman was like to others. That’s just a character he built up; he doesn’t want to seem weak or soft, easy to push around. Sure he messes around during training, but when it comes to the real thing, he takes things seriously. 

“You want to know why? Fine. He never left me hanging! He didn’t cut off contact with me for something I didn’t do!  He trusted me! He never assumed I got in just because of my last name! He didn’t hurt me the way you did!”

You were mad at your dad too, especially at first. But after a lot of begging, he finally told you why he pulled Bradley’s application; you understood, it was an extremely difficult decision. Adding on to it, it was his best friend’s dying wish.

You quickly walked away going to the locker rooms. You heard Bradley call out your name, but you chose to ignore it. Today did not turn out the way you had expected. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since the first time you saw Bradley in years and he is still the same.

Taglist: @alluringshawn @anurst @urmomssidehoesposts @sarahjoestewy-blog @adoringsebstan @70spadfoot @khaylin27

@littlebadariell @ems-alexandra

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:

so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey

it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)

start by pulling him out of the fire

"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous

Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.

What is your writing process like?

I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.

How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?

Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.

When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?

I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.

What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.

What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.

How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?

I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’

What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?

Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Not that I can think of!

Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[themoonweaversden]

Messeges that were found so far: STOD EHT TCENNOC (spoilers)

This is just to collect all the codes that you can type in in thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and their effects only (please click images for better quality)

I am so sorry if the transcripts in these are't the best, it's A LOT and my mind doesn't understand what's writing anymore

Masterpost with all messeges / codes

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

Have you ever heard of Orchard Lake, Kansas? Chances are you haven’t. It was erased from every map, book, and historical record, and the US Government’s official position on it is “stop calling us or we’ll send a drone to your house.” (I learned this the hard way.) But if you drive to the exact latitude and longitude of [REDACTED] you’ll see bullet casings, faded billboards, and bow ties strewn across the desert sands.

That’s because Orchard Lake had another name before it was wiped off the record: BillVille.

CHAPTER 3: BillVille The First Cult In History That Was Right

[image]

FIG A: A tumbillweed

As a historian of esoteric religions, I thought I’d discovered the strangest sects America had yet to offer (see “Chapter 3: Kevin’s Gate”) but that all changed when I found the following items tucked away in an old trunk in an estate sale on the outskirts of Bootstrap, Missouri."

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

"3/24/1957

Mother, I have the most wonderful news! Remember when you said I should stop being “such a follower” and finally think for myself? Well—turns out you were right! I’ve decided to stop following Elvis’ tour bus from state to state and instead I’ve made the exciting life decision to sell all my possessions to buy a one-way ticket to [REDACTED] and marry 138 of my new best friends! We’ve discovered the eternal secrets of the Universe, and golly it feels keen! For the first time in my life, I am happy!

Remember reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, buy gold, and bye forever!

Your daughter, Shelter Martha Jones Starshine Cipherwife

P.S. You’ve just gotta check out this neato pamphlet!"

FIG B: Letter and pamphlet advertising “Ciphertology.” Was found along with pins, buttons, ephemera. Smells like formaldehyde."

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

After reading this pamphlet, I became obsessed. Who were the Ciphertologists?

It seems in 1952 a failed travelling snake oil salesman “Silas Birchtree” was hiding from creditors when he choked on a coin he was flipping and died. Then, remarkably, the next day, he was seen alive. His posture, his smile, the pallor of his skin had all changed. It was as if another man entirely was wearing Silas like a suit. Whatever caused this transformation, the new Silas hit Orchard Lake, Kansas like a comet.

[TRANSCRIPT, FIRST AUDIO RECORDING FOUND OF SILAS BIRCHTREE GIVING A SPEECH IN THE TOWN SQUARE OF ORCHARD LAKE, KANSAS]

“Say, folks, gather round, thank you ma’am, spit out that gum, junior. My names Silas Birchtree, and I was just passing through when I noticed a very pressing problem: This town only has three wells! Well, well, well, that won’t hold water! (townsfolk laugh) But seriously plasma bags, if you’re dim enough to laugh at that tripe then you’re going to love what I’m about to shove down your throats: The secrets of the universe! I may look like an meat automoton but I was recently granted otherworldly insight into the nature of reality by an all-seeing eye named Bill Cipher. You have primal needs for chaos that are being repressed! Destroying is a form of creating! Assert your will in defiance of entropy! Punch through the throats of your oppressors and baptize yourself in their blood! Doesn’t that sound swell? Yes I said swell, and that rhymes with L, and that stands for “Let me Marry All Your Wives!”

-Silas Birchtree, 1952

It didn’t seem to matter what Silas said, folks were mesmerized by his rambling stream of consciousness diatribes. It wasn’t long before he became local news."

Treanscript:

"THE ORCHARD LAKE CORNHUSK "A suitable distraction from your toils." June 18, 1952 | 5 CENTS

CULT COMES TO TOWN Fans of Cults Pleased, Cult Skeptics Skeptical

Two things are on the rise this week in Orchard Lake! The sweet, sweet corn-bread cooling in Mrs. Butternubbins windowsill, and the terrifying cult that threatens to tear our town asunder. And asunder is one of the worst things you can be torn! Springing forth seemingly overnight, these bow-tie wearing brainwashees call themselves the Ciphertologists, and they answer to one man, the charismatic and extremely jaundiced Silas BirchTree. Town sentiment is divided as to whether this new religion can be trusted, but all agree this seems to be the most significant event in our town since a bat fell in the deep fryer at the waffle house. We spoke to townsfolk to gauge the local sentiment.

...WHAT THE PEOPLE SAY...

Darla Laudanum, Housewife: "Well, I don’t see what the big fuss is! Everyone’s entitled to their opinions, and Silas is no different. Why, I remember when everyone was worried that “Hula Hoops” were going to turn our children into Communists. But we only had to report 3 children!"

Gus Gunderson, Painter: "I ‘spose he’s got a funny way of talkin’, shore ‘nuff, but he promised me I’d live forever on my own moon, which beats my current job at the paint store. He also said he’d teach me to explode people with my mind. My mother ‘n law had better watch out!"

Madeline Dixon, Teenager: "He’s fine, I guess. It’s not like I replaced the picture of James Dean in my locket with him or anything. What? No you can’t look inside the locket, this is a personal locket!"

Emmaline Butternubbins, Spoilsport: "I’m telling you! He’s a human corpse puppeteered by a space triangle and he’s come to build an unholy astral pyramid from mortal realm beyond mortal understanding! Gather up your swords and arrows, let us slay the beast in mans form before he slays us!"

Can You "Dig It?" Hey Daddio! Are you hoppin mad about the piles of youth that are buckling your Chevy’s pad to the winner? Dig this jive! A keen new shovel that all the hep cats are using to flip those big Ricks right out of the sock hop! Man, you know what it is called!

“HIPPADDY RENZADDY’S SUPER-KEENHOOT SCOOP!”

It’s me, “Hip Daddy” Renzaddy! 50 years ago my great grandpappy Renzaddy toppled a pile of stones to death to avenge his death! The eternal war on man’s sin rages on!

5 CENTS OFF!

Teen Accused of "Rocking Around the Clock," Faces Trial ... (PG 3) Joseph McCarthy Arrests Suspicious Pez Dispenser (PG 5)"

Trascript:

"PAGE 2 THE ORCHARD LAKE CORNHUSK, JUNE 18, 1952 INTERVIEW WITH A PROPHET

Our lead reporter Welton Danforth sat down with the enigmatic leader to gain some insight into his holy mission. When they sat down to speak, the controversial religious leader was staring at his hands laughing as he wiggled his fingers.

Silas: Fingers! Wow, there’s just so many of these things! How do you keep track? Hey could someone get me a swig of formaldehyde?

Welton: Good evening. I have never seen a man open his eyes as wide as yours before. What exactly is going on with your face?

Silas: My face is normal! Next question!

Welton: (laughing) Well there’s that charm I’ve heard so much about. Move over, Johnny Carson! Tell me, how do you respond to accusations that the Ciphertologists are a cult?

Silas: Yes!

Welton: So you don’t deny it?

Silas: Look slick, everyone believes in something they can’t prove. Football players believe in “points.” Cops believe in “laws.” Priests believe in “sin.” But show me a law, a point, a sin. You can’t, they’re just ideas. So if you’re going to follow something invisible, why not follow the invisible Triangle that will give you your own planet and crush your enemies into a small screaming cube.

Welton: You’re awfully quick with a turn of phrase, but many others with silver tongues have claimed to be the messiah. What makes you any different?

Silas: Fair point! You know, you’re very perceptive. Has your wife told you that lately?

Welton: (pause) No. No… Janet has not. We are… going through a rough patch.

Silas: Must be hard. All those long nights on the couch, wondering what went wrong.

Welton: Yes… but, how did you know all that?

Silas: I know lots of things, Jack! And I know that when you die at 72 from a goose crashing into your head on a roller coaster, your last thought is gonna be that you wasted your life interviewing hick farmers instead of becoming that great novelist you always dreamed of being! That unfinished novel in your desk drawer…

Welton: …The Reporter Who Went To Mars?

Silas: It could be the greatest book of all time. But you’ll need someone to help you reach your full potential. I think I know a guy! By the way, I’ll need 1,000 dollars immediately.

Welton: Can I give you my watch as a down payment?

Silas: Fine, but only because I like you. Anyway, where were we? Oh right! I was interviewing you. Tell me, how long have you been a Ciphertologist?

Welton: Well, I suppose as of 5 seconds ago, but it already feels like much longer, Mr. Birchtree.

Silas: Please, call me “My Lord And Master.”

Welton: Yes, My Lord and Master. Do you have anything else to add before you go?

Silas: Only this, and I mean it sincerely: HAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA (cont’d)"

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

[2 images]

Within a month, The Ciphertologists had taken City Hall, renamed Orchard Lake "BillVille" and began stockpiling weapons, human teeth, and multi-colored ball-pit balls from burger restaurants. Townsfolk began shaving their heads and inhaling helium to match the pitch of their leader's shrill charismatic voice, and would participate in "Dream-Ins" inviting Silas's muse "Bill Cipher" to "possess" of up to 30 of them at once, at which point they would often laugh in unison for hours. Construction began of the "Very Normal Giant Metal Portal" in the desert. Travel was banned coming in and out, even for medical emergencies since, as Silas explained, "pain is hilarious!" They began to expand, knocking on doors to spread "The Bad News."

[image]

FIG C: It was pretty easy to spot a Ciphertologist. Can you see what makes them stand out? That's right - their enthusiastic smiles!

[image]

FIG D: The "Golden Bastard" apple, grown only by Ciphertologists, reportedly "screamed" when you ate it."

Transcript: (this one is really weird to trascribe, so sorry if it's difficult to understand)

"THERE’S ONE “EYE” IN TEAM! Can you find it?

In Ciphertology, we encourage you to express your individuality, just like Silas does! That means strict conformity to his exact wardrobe, or else being sent to “The Hole.” You won’t like the hole!

KEEP AN EYE OPEN!

SHAVE A SPOT FOR BILL TO ENTER!

POSTURE

TUCK YOUR SHIRT IN! Order is a Trojan horse for chaos!

GREASE YOUR SHOES! Are you done? ADD MORE GREASE! And MORE!

(Image of two people in matching outfits doing Ciphertologist poses)

Pocket full of yummy glass!

Not pictured - The hot brand we will sear into your flesh. Which part of your body will we brand? It’s weirder than you think!

Did you know?: Therapy is a scam to keep you from the truth. Lean into your natural born mental illness to unlock your true potential!

GO DOOR TO DOOR! SPREAD THE JOY LIKE A DISEASE!

Follow this script to convert the non-billievers!

Hi! Do you have one minute to talk about the triangle who lives in your brain and has seen you naked? . YES → GOOD! The old gods are dead, and BILL ATE THEM! Dig it? . NO → Stare at them until they start crying.

Are you ready to accept him into your mind? . YES → (Continue script) . NO → Eat one of your own fingers in front of them. Don’t break eye contact.

Raise your arms and shriek a perfect E note in the 8th octave at 5,243 Hz. Their skull will shatter. Like a wine glass!

Great! Your new name is: ________________(SEE GUIDE TO CHOOSING CIPHERTOLOGY NAME PG 6) What size robe are you? __________________SEE YOU AT THE WAFFLE HOUSE! (Do Cipher Handshake, devour pamphlet, crawl away upside down)

WEIRDMEGEDDON IS COMING. WEIRDMEGEDDON IS COMING. WEIRDMEGEDDON IS COMING.

CIPHERTOLIGIST'S GUIDE TO DELIGHTSOMENESS, 1952"

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

[image]

ABOVE: The Ciphertology “Brain Seismograph” or “BS” Meter had dials for “gullibility,” “financial liquidity,” “celebrity influence,” “herbs,” and “spices.”

The cult surged in popularity and influence. Silas’s motto “embrace today as if your town is going to be hit by a tornado in exactly 3 & a half years!” was infectious, and he immediately ended all crime by declaring that “everything is legal now!”

[image]

Soon the only unconverted local was unmarried town nag Emmaline Butternubbins. She was convinced there was something “not right” about the mysterious megalomaniacal cult leader. Her protests escalated to her distributing these home-made warning pamphlets to very annoyed children.

[image]

“Most people rejected Emmaline’s message. They hated her because she told the truth” —Emmaline, to her cat Bonbon."

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

Conflict became inevitable. When Silas hijacked a local TV station to read an “erotic tale of two trapezoids,” Elk Glen filed a complaint with the FCC. Cipherologists retaliated by pouring 600 gallons of bubble solution in their drinking water. Soon the law became involved.

“Blrbl bll Tbllbl Ciphertobblblblblb” - Hurk Durnsley, Oak Glen City Council

The Cipherologists were ordered to return City Hall, dismantle the “Portal” they were building out of scrap metal and car parts, or face the full force of the Kansas State Troopers. The standoff lasted 13 days, with Silas and his die hard followers holed up in a waffle house chanting “TEETH” over and over again for reasons unknown. Silas was becoming increasingly agitated and erratic, blocking all radio and TV signals into town and ordering his followers to hurry construction of his mysterious metallic project. His body was also looking increasingly pale and desiccated, which he ascribed to his “fantastic diet” of eating nothing but “solid chunks of chlorine and ants.”

BILLVILLE DAILY NEWS June Billeteeth, Billtee-Fifty-Bill PORTAL NEARLY COMPLETE EVERYONE THRILLED, EVEN THE GOVERNMENT! (DO NOT TURN ON YOUR TELEVISION)"

Transcript:

"Finally Emmaline Butternubbins, enraged that no one liked her pamphlets, hurled a torch into the CipherTologists HQ, igniting the helium tanks, blasting out the windows and destroying Silas’s machine. Troopers opened fire as Silas’s followers held hands and began singing “WE’LL MEET AGAIN” in defiance. Silas, riddled with bullet holes, grabbed a megaphone, leapt atop the inferno, grinning wildly as he was engulfed in flame.

“YOU CAN’T KILL A MAN WHO’S ALREADY DEAD! IF YOU TAKE ME DOWN, I’LL BE BACK, MORE POWERFUL AND MORE ANNOYING THAN YOU CAN POSSIBLY IMAGINE! REMMEBER- REALITY-”

At this point, Silas Birch Tree’s head fell off, flies swarmed from his mouth and he collapsed into a grey husk. A coroner declared Silas BirchTree dead for a second time. Black helicopters evacuated the site and the city was erased from all official records. Mrs Butternubbins was awarded the Medal of Honor, which she used as an ashtray.

On the Lighter Side “QUIRKY NEWS!” CULT DISBANDED, 9 DEAD Slow news day? Well we gotta fill these pages somehow! In an oddball story that’s definitely out there a remote Orchard Lake’s homespun cult committed a laundry list of heinous crimes. Trashed walls, buildings, and tank-wielding federal agents stormed the “Cipherologists” headquarters. The panic escalated as the “Cipherologists” leader offered everyone a bag of candy and destroyed the stockade on a rented lemon- but just gave everyone you love from the ability to express their emotions. We are out of terrible diarrhea. It is unclear if this was his intention or not. We are out of things to say in this piece, no one really cares what happens in Kansas."

Transcript:

"ONLY KNOWN PHOTO OF SILAS'S BODY, 1952"

Transcript: "LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

Although BillVille has faded into urban legend, hidden remnants remain for those who know where to look. It is even said that there are straggling members out there, still holding out hope for Silas’s return.

(RIGHT: IRONIC T-SHIRT SOLD ONLINE)

In cults, this is a common phenomenon. Human beings are so hungry for a confident voice to guide them in an uncertain world, that they’ll follow anyone, even a madman, wherever he goes. Usually off a cliff.

But there was something different about Silas Birchtree. The more I research, the more of his predictions I’ve seen coming true. Recently I was going through old records when I found Silas’s final words, tucked away in a lost letter he wrote before the standoff, a message unseen until now.

His message was:

“At least this will make a fun chapter of your book, Donna!”

My name is Donna Rutherford. Yesterday, I was a Lutheran. As of today, I am a Ciphertologist.

[CODE]"

Code decoded: "YOUCANTKILLANIDEA"

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Two

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 5145

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warnings: 18+ Blog; talk of drug use (no actual using), absent parents, mention of food and alcohol, slow burn, brown fuzzy coat, self doubt, break-up mention, annoyance towards actors, cursing, 2nd POV, that should be it but if I missed anything please let me know

A/N: It’s here!! I’m really excited for this chapter, lots of little things I love about that I’m so excited for you to read. This chapter is where we meet reader and learn a little bit about her. I wanted to also note, there will be an eventual nickname used, we just haven’t gotten to it being used yet so for now I’m not mentioning it. The response to this series has been so amazing and I’m so grateful for all the wonderful feedback!! Another big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for taking the time to beta for me!! You’re a champ for putting up with my spelling errors. Update: adding link to mug that is mentioned -> etsy shop

Series Masterlist / Sweet Creature Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

“Diem, you can’t really be considering this?! Did you forget, he was literally doing drugs off of your toilet!” 

You pour another glass of a sweet sparkling wine you’d picked up before heading to Diem’s for your weekly chat session, then settling back into the array of plush couch cushions— a night to decompress a bit, vent and just catch up on the week’s happenings. 

“Well, I’ve already considered and told him yes.”

“What?” You nearly spit your drink out in shock. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I kind of called it when you invited him to Wren’s party. I just— I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Look, I know you’re just being protective, and I’m so grateful for that, I truly am— but you have to just let me make this decision and trust that he’s going to be clean like he says he is. This is his longest stay in treatment, that’s got to be a good sign, right?” 

The one thing you loved most about Diem was her big heart and her constant need to mother everyone around her. 

She had literally taken you under her wing when you’d decided to uproot your entire life and move to a random city you had zero ties to. 

A chance meeting in the halls of your new employer, Ojai Valley School, while rounding the corner and bumping into each other. Your stack of lesson plans scattering about the concrete floor and her basket of snacks toppling over— a dozen or so clementine oranges rolling around the haphazard mess of papers. 

In sorting out each other’s disarray, you’d learned she was a parent of a kindergartener, to which you shared being the new first grade teacher. 

Somewhere in the midst of an over abundance of apologies for the mishap and swapping mini life stories on the walk together to your classroom, her daughter’s class coincidentally next door, there was an exchanging of phone numbers and a no pressure invitation for drinks and appetizers at her place— she dubbed it as a proper ‘welcome to the neighborhood.’ 

A week later you found yourself in Diem’s living room bonding over similar interests with wooden platters of too expensive crackers, hard to pronounce cheeses, thinly sliced deli meats paired with quickly mixed and shaken cocktails over ice. 

She shared her struggles being a single mom who was embarking on a new business adventure all while co-parenting with her ex-boyfriend. You learned her family didn’t live close, parents usually traveling through some part of the world or staying in one of their many extravagant vacation homes, while her brother was some big name movie star— Dieter Bravo, whom you’d seen plastered on the covers of gossip magazines. 

There was an instant friendship between the two of you that flourished as the months went on— a sisterly bond you’d never had being an only child. 

Weekly chats developed into spending not only more time with Diem, but with Wren as well. Dinners and movie nights became a regular thing, rotating hosting duties while Wren always had the final say in the movie. You shared your love for art with them as much as you could, making sure to invite them both when a new artist had their latest installment showing at one of the many galleries in town, Wren always so captivated with your interpretations of the art on display, encouraging her to seek out her own. If Diem ever found herself in a pinch with the hotel, you were more than excited to spend more time with Wren, especially on the warmer days where you both could take advantage of the pool and soak up the California sun. 

You felt like an instant local and less of a transplant after a few months, building your own connections with merchants and finding your own niche outside of teaching within Ojai— you were a welcomed presence. 

“I’m sorry Diem, I just have flashbacks to seeing him slumped over on the bathroom floor, high out of his mind— That look on your face ate me up inside.” You sigh at the recollection of your first meeting of her brother Dieter, all disheveled and extremely inebriated. Diem had cried on your shoulder for hours after everyone had left the party, but you did your best to comfort her as time went on. “I’ll be here for you if you need anything.”

She reaches over to you and gives you a hug, reassurance that she appreciates you always having her back. 

“Thank you. I promise, any little inkling of something being off and he’s out. Just try to be a little nice to him, give him a chance to prove himself. He said he’ll be here in a few weeks and I’d love for you two to get a proper meeting, so let me know what your schedule is looking like.”

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior.” You playfully roll your eyes at her, but you would really try to be as open as you could be, especially for her and Wren. 

“Okay, enough about me and my stuff. What’s new with you?? Any hot dates??”

Your dating life was near nonexistent. Yeah, you dated, but that was as far as things went. 

Your last relationship had ended in a breakup before your move. Both of you wanting different things, you wanting him to move with you and him wanting to stay rooted, while also refusing to try the long distance thing, deciding a clean break was best for the both of you. 

“Ugh. I went on one the other day. One of the teachers cornered me in the break room and insisted on setting me up with her neighbor.”

“And?”

“And, it was a disaster. He was late to the restaurant and then he was excusing himself every fifteen minutes to go to the bar to watch some sport’s playoffs. He also ordered for me off the kid’s menu, said he thought the restaurant was overpriced— he picked it mind you. Safe to say there was nothing ‘hot’ about the date. I literally give up. I’ll live the rest of my life alone— maybe I should get a cat or two.”

Your body slinks back amusingly into the couch cushions. 

“Oh my god. Stop!” She swats jokingly at your limp arm. “You’re so dramatic. Firstly, don’t accept any dates from colleagues— those are always bound to be disastrous! Secondly, you won’t be alone forever. You just have to open yourself up to the possibility of something just happening organically— like fate! Thirdly— no cats! Wren’s allergic and I can’t deal with that mess of meltdowns from her wanting one of her own.”

“Why do you always have to be my voice of reason?!”

“Because that’s what friends are for… Babe!”

“I hate you!” You’re both in a fit of giggles as you toss a pillow across the couch at her. 

“Oh! I do have some good news though! The gallery said they’re holding one last artist showcase before closing the doors and they offered it to me.”

Reverie Studio, a cute little art gallery and workshop space, had become a sanctuary for your creative imagination to live freely. They offered classes throughout the year to varying types of artists, novice to well seasoned, in their workshop space in the back of the gallery. 

The gallery itself was spacious and washed in white, perfect for featuring painted canvases, framed photographs or ceramic sculptures. Giant bright windows facing Main Street, allowed for ample viewing for visitors. 

You’d taken a few classes as a way to submerse yourself into the community, hoping to build some connections with like minded individuals. At one point you’d noticed the bulletin board that held a plethora of business cards, class schedules and other various information about town happenings, had a help wanted flier for the studio itself looking for someone to teach a few classes. You, being a teacher already, as well as an artist, decided to seek out more information. They hired you on the spot and allowed you to decide what classes you wanted to offer. 

The latest flier was informing that the owners decided they would be closing their doors soon. If you had the means, you would have put an offer on the business to keep it open, unfortunately with your salary as a teacher it wouldn’t be feasible. While you were sad you’d be losing Reverie, you were grateful they considered your art to be shown as their last installment. 

“What?! That is amazing! Finally people can see the amazing things you paint— I’ve been dreaming of this moment for you!! Also, I told you my brother’s an artist right?”

“Like, ‘I’m an actor, art is my passion’ while having zero idea how watercolor works…” Air quotes adding emphasis to your mockery.

“I thought you said you were going to be on your best behavior?” She tosses a pillow right back at you, nearly knocking over your empty glass in the process. 

“Sorry, I had to get it out.” Thankfully she could sense your campy tone. 

“I’m going to head out, there’s a stack of papers calling my name that I need to grade.” You state, grabbing your purse and making your way to the front door. “I’ll see you at drop off.” Throwing her a wave as you walk down the path leading to the main sidewalk. 

“Oh! Before I forget, Wren asked if she could come paint sometime. Told her I’d run it by you first and see if there was any space for her.” 

“Of course— Anytime!”

“Perfect. We'll chat more about it later then. Text me when you get home!” Diem leaning into the door frame, practically shouting as you cross the street, knowing you live a less than five minute walk down the block. 

“Oh! And I want to have you over for dinner when Dieter gets here!!”

“Goodnight Diem!” Throwing a lax wave back at her. 

*

Dieter can’t remember a time he’d slept so well. Could be the comfortable pillow top mattress, or it could be due to the fact this is the most relaxed he’s felt in years. 

There’s clanking coming from what he can only assume is the kitchen, followed by the strong aroma of fresh brewed coffee. Diem is awake, still the early bird that she’s always been. 

He begins to extricate himself from the cushy bed, swinging his legs over the edge, his body following suit into a somewhat hunched over sitting position. His fingers pick at the tiny sleep crystals embedded in the corners of his eyes, a few blinks to adjust to the light, his sight still a bit blurry. 

An audible lazy yawn works its way through his mouth, sleep still ruminating within him for the time being. He reaches over to the side table to grab his black framed glasses, a few swipes over the lens glass with the crumpled top sheet before he’s lifting them to the window for a quick smudge inspection— passable and now snug to his face. 

He convinces his body to rise to his full height, joints and muscles adjusting to their proper positions after several hours of a sedentary vacation. A quick roll of the neck and overhead arm stretches ramp up his alertness. 

Stepping over yesterday’s clothes still plopped in the middle of the floor, he digs through his bags in search of something to cover his boxer clad body with the intent to make the trek through the house to a cup of rich amber heaven. 

The air has a slight chill to it, not an uncommon occurrence being tucked in a valley on a California morning. He pulls on his favorite lounge pants, dark stripes pair with a thin cottony fabric worn in from years of wearing— a security blanket of sorts. Throwing his giant fuzzy overcoat over a wrinkled shirt while taking a few deep breaths, schooling his trepidation and the fact that a new life awaits him on the other side of the door. 

*

Sure enough, Diem is busy moving about the kitchen. A mom through and through multitasking her way through the morning— coffee made with mugs set out, breakfast of eggs and toast plated waiting to be eaten,  and a million other little tasks that seem to keep her attention focused. 

“I can’t believe you still have that damn coat, I beg you don’t wear it in public.”

“Good morning to you too!” That first sentence a bit gravelly as he looks down to inspect the coat Diem had just insulted. “What’s wrong with my coat?”

“It makes you look— a little tacky and less ‘I’ve finally got my life together.’” He shakes his head at her remark, deciding he’ll leave out the part that it’s just a house coat these days. 

“How’d you sleep?”

“Good. Best sleep I’ve had in awhile. Gonna need to know where I can get one of those beds for home.” Grabbing one of the mugs and pouring himself a decent amount of coffee, then positioning himself onto one of the barstools in front of his awaiting breakfast. 

“That would be a “we’re so proud of you, here’s a bed” gift from mom and dad.” He can sense her somewhat sore tone as she wipes up the counters. 

“You hear from them lately?” 

“Aside from the gifts they send regularly for Wren and a few emails updating on their whereabouts, they seem to be living up to the absentee status quite well.” 

He doesn’t expect the weight of her response to hit him so fiercely, knowing his own presence had been equally lacking as well. 

“I’m sorry.” It seems like the only adequate answer. 

“For what? It’s not your fault our parent’s decision to be unavailable the majority of our lives. I mean, I love them and I know they love us, but they sure have a weird way of showing it.”

“Yeah— well, I can’t say my track record has been any better over the years.” He wishes he could omit the guilt, but acknowledging and accepting his own absence seems like a more appropriate approach to mending the past. 

“Hey, no! I’m not trying to project any of my thoughts onto you.” Her movements halted, giving her full attention to the conversation. “You made an effort, regardless of your— your situation through the years, you still made time for us. We see them maybe twice if we’re lucky. Sometimes they surprise Wren with a FaceTime call, probably so she doesn’t forget what they look like.”

His fork scrapes through his runny eggs, taking his anger out on them seems like a better alternative to a seething phone call to his parents. He’s not sure they’d even answer if he did call. Communication between him and them was tenuous, having sent them a few emails while in rehab, their only response was “That’s great. We love you!”

“Plus, you’re here now. Look at it as a second chance to make up for lost time.” 

Before he’s able to give much thought to the prospect of a second chance, the trotting of tiny footsteps is heard coming from the hall. 

“Uncle Dude!!! You’re here, you’re here!” Wren’s tiny little body launched into his chest as he tried to squat down to her level. 

Uncle Dude. When Wren was younger, she had trouble with his name when her vocabulary started to expand, certain letter patterns fairing more difficult than others. Dieter joked around with the idea of her calling him ‘The Dude’, The Big Lebowski being one of his comfort films. Diem tried everything in her powers to make it not happen, but it only took an entire weekend of Dieter coaching the then 3 year old and Uncle Dude came to be. 

“Hey Birdie! Gosh, you’ve gotten so big!”

“I know, mama said I hafta eat all my vegetables ‘cause they will make me grow and grow and grow.” She wraps her little arms around his neck, squeezing him tight before pulling back and fully inspecting him. “You brought teddy jacket wiff you!!” Her little hands running through the brown sherpa fabric of his coat, which she claimed felt like a teddy bear— Teddy Jacket. 

“Brought it just for you.” He shoots a sarcastic smile over to Diem, who is doing her best to not make her eye rolling obvious, then plants a kiss to Wren’s tiny forehead.

“Okay Miss Wren, you’ve got to eat breakfast and get dressed for school.” Diem pulling out the mom voice, making both him and Wren exchange a brief scrunched expression. 

Wren climbs the legs of the barstool and settles into its seat. “But I wanna stay wiff Uncle Dude! He always gets me donuts for breakfast!” Her little voice floats through the air and wraps itself around his heart, clenching over how much he’s missed her. 

“Uncle Dude is actually taking you to school today, so you’ll have plenty of time before school to hang out. And we can do donuts a different time, eat your eggs then go get yourself dressed.” 

“Are you gonna be here when I get home too?!” Looking at Dieter with pleading eyes. 

“Heck yeah! I’ll be here for a while!” Dieter leans in close enough so only Wren can hear. “If you hurry up, we can get donuts before school, our secret!”

“YAY!!!” 

Diem looks over her shoulder at the two of them, an eyebrow cocked at Wren’s abrupt excitement, then looking at Dieter and only getting an innocent shoulder shrug from him. 

“I’m going to head out then if you’ve got this under control.” Dieter nods in agreement, finishing off the remainder of his coffee. “Perfect! I already left a message with the school you’d be dropping her off. No need to worry about picking her up, she has a wellness check with her doctor, so I’ll take her to that before we head home.” Diem scurrying around, grabbing items from different areas of the room and tossing into her oversized tote, before giving a kiss to Wren and quick hug to Dieter. “I’ll see you both later. Love you, bye!!” The door shutting quickly behind her. 

There’s a beat of silence as Wren and Dieter exchange looks, as if they know what each other is thinking. 

“DONUTS!!” Both announce in unison, high fives and uncoordinated movements as they both flail about. 

“Alright Birdie, let’s get dressed and go!”

“Let’s go!!”

*

As promised, donuts were a designated stop on the way to school. Wren’s excitement was written all over her face as she peered through the bakery case deliberating on her choice. Dieter missed this, moments spent with her as she explored the world around her. Thinking back to his conversation with Diem, this instance is proof second chances exist. 

“Thanks Uncle Dude for the donut!” He glances back at Wren in the rear view mirror, buckled securely into her booster seat, flakes of pink donut frosting smeared around her mouth, curls slightly bouncing as she bobs her head to the music she requested as Dieter buckled her in. 

“No problem Birdie. Here, why don’t you wipe your face— hide the evidence.” He hands her a napkin, hoping she can manage on her own— she seems to do a good enough job of it. 

“Donuts make me happy.” 

“They do, do they?”

“Yeah! They make me smile. Mama says being a movie star makes you happy.”

“She did?” 

“Yep! Does it?”

He thinks it does, or it used to at least. There was a time when the love he had for acting was limitless— he would eat, sleep and breathe acting. Getting sought after roles, memorizing pages worth of lines, stepping into character the instant the director said action. Acting filled a void in him that had been vacant for years. 

“It used to make me really happy.”

“But it doesn’t anymore?” 

“I don’t know, still trying to figure that out.”

“Mama says your heart knows when it’s happy, so just listen to your heart Uncle Dude!”

“I’ll do that, thanks Birdie.”

*

Most of your school mornings ran the same way. You tend to wake before your alarm ever has a chance to alert you, you’ve made such a habit of it you’re not sure why you bother setting one. You read somewhere about how cold showers at the start of the day help wake your mind, could be total bullshit but for some reason you believe it works— they’re the longest 2 minutes of your day. Being a private school teacher, the attire on school grounds tends to lean more conservative than your ‘normal life uniform’ of sundresses, distressed jeans and comfy band tees, but it makes for a quick selection of dark slacks and a comfortable top. 

The coffee machine has already run through its cycle by the time shoes are on and your school tote is securely placed on your shoulder. Grabbing your favorite coffee mug that reads “Let It Gogh”, a gift from a student last year, you fill it with an adequate amount of coffee and a splash of cream before you're out the door. 

The local bakery is your only stop before work, offering a good selection of breakfast sandwiches, bagels, and an enticing selection of donuts— you may or may not add one to your order of an egg and cheese sandwich some mornings. 

You tend to breeze through your class preparation before the bells ring for the start of school. 

The day's lesson plan already looked over, worksheets separated and ready for the students, and the whiteboard cleaned and daily tasks written out— you find it helps deter your students from having to ask “what are we doing today?” more than necessary. 

There’s usually a good 30 minutes of quiet before the first student arrives, and if there’s no need for you elsewhere on campus, you take the time to read your latest book you picked up from Bart’s Books and hope you can get through a good amount of it the short time you have. 

Like clockwork, your students trickle in with their ‘good mornings’ and vibrant stories about their world. 

Some parents opt for a quick ‘drop and go’, while others linger a bit in the back of the class until you’re ushering them out when the bell rings. You enjoy the parent interaction. It’s usually spent answering homework questions or sharing upcoming events happening in the class, with the occasional non-school related discussions when Diem swings by with Wren— you both getting caught up in some story that is not really relevant to anything school related. 

There’s a quick flash of a familiar little face, Wren placing her purple backpack on its assigned hook, then running back to where you’re standing at your desk. 

“My Uncle Dude brought me today!”

“Your Uncle Dude?” Diem hadn’t mentioned not being able to bring Wren this morning, and you’ve never heard of this “Dude” person before. 

“Yeah! He’s a movie star!!” Her little frame is buzzing with excitement, not able to stand still as she bounces on the balls of her feet. Before you’re able to question her further, she zips off towards her table, waving to someone over your shoulder. “Byyyyye Uncle Dude!!! See you later!!” 

You’d been so wrapped up in your brief conversation with Wren, you hadn’t noticed the man standing at the door to your classroom. 

He doesn’t seem to notice you staring as he leans against the door, watching Wren getting herself situated with her fellow classmates. 

Dieter Bravo. Or at least you think it is. No it definitely is.

The images of your first encounter with him flood your mind. You’re not really sure what you expected when Diem said he was clean and sober now, but you definitely didn’t expect to find him attractive on any level. 

He looks healthy and like he might actually sleep regularly, his eyes seemingly less sunken in from what you can see with his glasses perched perfectly on his face. His hair slightly shorter and still a little bit of a mess but purposefully, it seems to suit him though. 

Your eyes roam a bit further down, noticing he seemed to have traded his disheveled clothes for a more put together yet laid back style. A white t-shirt under a black blazer that seems far too formal for school drop off and a snug pair of dark wash jeans. 

You shouldn’t be ogling him like this, but your brain is having a hard time controlling itself. 

“Hello?”

You must have zoned out pretty hard because you didn’t realize he was standing so close now, and attempting to get your attention. 

“Oh— H-hi! Sorry, I was lost in thought there for a second.” You can feel your face heating up, trying to get your thoughts together. 

“Hi, I’m Wren’s teacher—“

“I’m Dieter, Wren’s Uncle—“

You both attempt to introduce yourselves, speaking at the same time, hands knocking into each other awkwardly before properly situating for a shake. 

Heat begins to rise in your body, you’re completely flustered by his subdued energy and the way he’s looking at you with his soft brown eyes. 

“Sorry— you first, please.” 

“I’m Dieter, Wren’s Uncle. Diem asked if I could drop her off, said she already had it called into the front office.” 

“Yes— yes! Sorry, I must have not looked over my notes thoroughly this morning and missed that message.”

“I like your mug.” Pointing to your Van Gogh mug you forgot you were holding, he laughs as he reads the message on the front. 

As if you didn’t know what was already on it, you instinctively lift the mug to view it, like it was your first time seeing it. 

“T-thanks, a student gave it to me last year and it’s kind of become my favorite one to use for school, I’ll be sad if something ever happens to it.” You internally cringe at your tendency to over share, words just aimlessly falling from your mouth, trying to mask your nervousness. 

“Keep it safe then. Anyways— I’m an actor, as Wren so kindly informed you. I normally live down in LA when I’m not shooting movies, but I’m—I’m taking some time off, no movies or anything at the moment, going to spend a few months with my sister and Wren, help out however I can.” 

Ah! There it is, the “I’m an actor” spiel making the attraction you felt towards him flee instantly. While he may be a new cleaned up version of the Dieter Bravo you met a year ago, he’s still just a typical Hollywood actor who likes to talk about himself at any chance he can get. Having had your fair share of run-ins with actors before, they’re all the same as far as you’re concerned— his career holds zero significance to you in any way. 

Releasing a heavy sigh as you remember Diem’s plea to be on your best behavior, you school your annoyance at his mentioning of it.

But unbeknownst to you, he can sense your lack of interest in what he’s saying and decides his introduction is over. 

Thankfully, you’re literally and figuratively saved by the bell. 

“Well, I better let you get to your class then.”

“Yeah— I’m sure I’ll see you around Mr. Bravo. Have a great day.” 

You turn towards your desk hastily placing your mug down in exchange for a stack of worksheets, then making your way to the front of the class to get your lesson started. 

“1-2-3, eyes on me! Good morning everyone! Please get a pencil while I pass these papers out.” 

Dieter stands in the doorway, observing your interactions with your students, a stark contrast to the coldness you’d given him at the end of your conversation. 

*

The rest of the day flew by once it started, the short interaction with Dieter unfortunately flitted through your mind more than you'd have liked it to. But you didn’t let your aversion towards him have any effect on your day. 

After closing up your class and dropping off attendance sheets in the front office, you made your way home, looking forward to an evening of drinks and gossip. 

A quick change out of your school clothes into some jeans, T-shirt and flip-flops, you filled your canvas tote with a chilled bottle of white wine and the cheeses you’d told Diem you’d bring over. 

Being that it’s roughly a 5 minute walk from your house to Diem’s. The neighborhood is quiet most days, giving you a chance to really enjoy the ambiance of everyone’s front gardens and a few neighborly ‘Hello’s’ as you stroll down the sidewalk.

Nearing Diem’s house, noticing her car in the driveway, a sense of relief washes over you at the thought of Dieter being out and the chance of running into him would be slim. You were ready to unwind for the evening. 

Front door unlocked, you let yourself in— both of you exchanging keys early on in your friendship in the off chance there was an emergency or one of you showed up to a locked door. 

Hearing Diem rustling around in her pantry, not hearing your arrival, you decide to start unpacking your tote and announce your presence. 

“You have no idea how much I need this tonight Diem!”

Not hearing a response from her, you continue placing things on her counter and continue to spill to her. 

“Also! Would have been nice to have a heads up that your brother would be dropping Wren off— was not prepared for that. But what a difference a year makes, he looks good, definitely was attracted to him for a split second— sorry I know you don’t want to hear that, but honestly such a difference from my first interaction with him being when I was yelling at him for being strung out in your bathroom.”

Still no word from her as you open the bottle of wine and unwrap the cheeses in preparation for the evening. 

“You’d be so proud of me too! I was on my best behavior despite how much I was annoyed with listening to him talk about himself— Hey, did you happen to get those crackers with the figs and olives?? I grabbed that honey goat cheese that we like to eat with them.”

The silence carries on from the pantry. No more movement. No sign of Diem. 

“Diem? You okay? Hey, I’m sorry— I shouldn’t have mentioned your brother being attractive— and I honestly was really nice to him. I mean, at least I think I was.”

You can hear Diem finally making her way to join you in the kitchen. 

Only when you look up, prepared to give her a big welcoming smile, your face immediately fades into a look of surprise when you realize it’s not Diem at all— it’s her brother, Dieter. 

“Diem’s not home.”

“Oh fuck—”

Next

[nexility-sims]

𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

i, frankly, haven't had the energy or positive mindset to sit down and write anything extensive out for this gratitude day, which is is a shame. however, i wanted to post something, with promises to outpour more love next year !

at this moment, i believe it's fair to say i'm most grateful for the folks in my simblr writing group. i've told you all multiple times how happy being in a group together makes me but, damn it, everyone else needs to know, too !!!! it's only been two months, but it feels like so much longer because everyone has been so enthusiastic and earnest—in general, but also with embracing each other's stories, getting to know one another, providing support and assistance. that was all i wanted. this little community's establishment has coincided with a terrible loss and truly awful time in my life, and i just can't adequately express how appreciative i am for everyone. i want to shoutout @300yearschallenge, @bridgeportbritt, @crownsofesha, @daniigh0ul, @greensleeves101066, @lynzishell, @madebysimblr, @rebouks, @simming-in-the-rain, @simstrashkingdom, @sirianasims, @saerelia, and @hannahssimblr in particular for so many insightful, instructive, funny conversations. it's so wild to me that i just met most of you and yet am excited every day to see what you've got to say. that's to say nothing of the storytelling itself !!!!! i'm grateful as well for @digital-deluxe @earthmoonz @funkyllama @housekonig @igglemouse @moonfromearth @simabloom @simeaz @simmysunset @stillgotme @the-lancasters @theroyalthornoliachronicles @trentonsimblr @warwickroyals @saerelia @xldkx i still have lots of catching up to do, but i'm happy to say i've started and am enjoying several, finally. i'm taking notes, whether it's on family dynamics or compelling prose or friendship or the importance of backgrounds and settings or whatever else. lastly, perhaps predictably: i haven’t kept up with too many stories this year for various reasons, but i have been @armoricaroyalty's biggest fan for the last two years. i’m grateful that gabe and i had such a truly epic, ridiculously fun collaborative project this year (almost entirely gabe’s doing, which makes me even more determined to repay the favor). i’m also so proud and happy that gabe’s story has really hit its stride and garnered a lot of well-deserved praise this year.

the big reason why i love gabe’s story is because there are so many interesting characters, all doing something, all woven together in ways that feel realistic and suspenseful and dramatic and hilarious and romantic … it takes a little bit of talent, a lot of skill, and a boatload of discipline to pull that off. gabe has all of it, and i’m so grateful to have been allowed to join in—whether as an enthusiastic sounding board, a partner in plotting, or just someone to agree heartily that, yes, that freddy poll had one (1) correct answer. i'm so excited to see the story continue now that this phenomenal chapter is ending, i have and will continue to learn a lot about the craft from gabe, and my own storytelling has improved immensely just by association (you know, plus the fact that my current project wouldn’t exist without him). oh, and: simblr is also about making friends, and our friendship is hands-down the best thing i've gotten out of this whole endeavor.

all of this makes me believe, in conclusion, that 2024 is going to be full of more delightful conversation, more delightful stories to read, and more friendship ♥️