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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 23 days ago

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Tit For Tat

Santiago Pope Garcia x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 15: Against a Wall

Summary: You and Santi sneak off.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating.

Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 460

Santi moans loudly, his head thrown back, his back pressed against the wall. His jeans are down by his thighs from where you tugged them, low and nearly at the knee. There’s the beginning hint of one of his surgery scars just peeking out at the edge of the material.

His unbuckled belt taps rhythmically against the fly as you bob your head, sucking him as deep into your mouth as you can.

You jerk him in time with your mouth, caressing the inches you can swallow down while you lightly knead and squeeze his heavy balls.

“Baby,” he groans, biting his lip as he bucks weakly into the heat of your mouth. “Please, I’m gonna…” He sucks in a deep breath as you moan lightly, the sound reverberating along his skin.

He wants to hold off, wants to let you play with him as long as you wish, forever if you wanted. God, he would do anything you wanted.

He knows he’s meant to be keeping vaguely quiet. The walls aren’t that thin and pretty much everyone is in the garden outside, but even so, he’s getting dangerously close to too loud. But he just can’t help himself, can’t gather together enough brain cells that haven't been overloaded by the feeling of your lips and tongue along his cock to care.

His balls tighten, drawing up as his length pulses and grows impossibly harder.

“Gonna come…” He whines, his breath catching in his throat.

He’s not used to this, not used to being given things so completely. Not used to being the one that’s pressed against surfaces and pampered with pleasure.

Not used to someone not expecting anything in return.

But, oh boy, how he was going to return it.

He was going to get you down completely flat on your back on the floor with his head between your legs and make you come and come and come and-

He cries out softly, bucks weakly as his orgasm floods his veins and he spurts hot, thick cum into your eager mouth.

You moan around him, swallowing eagerly as he shivers and shakes. Only pulling back as he sighs and slumps forward ever so slightly.

You’re grinning up at him when he looks at you.

“You trying to let everyone know you’re getting your dick sucked?” You tease and he scoffs, grinning.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, still breathing deeply. “Was I that bad?”

You shake your head. “There’s still some plausible deniability.”

He snorts, slowly sinking down onto the floor next to you. His heart warms when you reach out to help him. “Yeah, well, there won’t be.”

“What?” He grabs you, making you chuckle as he pulls you into a searing kiss. “‘Cause I’m about to make you scream.”

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for-a-longlongtime · 2 months ago

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Guilty Pleasure (6/7) - dbf!Joel Miller x reader

An open bar and Joel in a tailored black outfit mean trouble at your father's garden party. Enough reason to do something you haven't done before.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni 🔞🔥 Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 43), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 3.4K A/N: I finished writing the final chapter last night and y'all, I'm giddy as fuck. Big BIG thanks to @milla-frenchy and @reallyrallyauthor for your support and reading Part 6 and 7 early to make sure this hits juuust right!

< part 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist

There are too many people in your backyard. Mingling, chatting, networking, kissing ass - all accompanied by canapés that are too fancy, beer that is so painfully hip and micro-brewed that you don’t even want to try it, and outfits intended to seem semi-casual yet also upstage everybody. You hate these gatherings. It’s far from the first time you’ve had to endure them because of your father’s work, though. Even your grandmother liked reminding you when you were little that your grandfather also hosted affairs like this. “It’s important to build connections.”

You don’t care. All you give a damn about tonight - or maybe these days, if you are honest with yourself - was Joel, dressed like a fucking vision. Well fitting black pants, that you suspect are tailored, an ever better fitting black dress shirt which is absolutely tailored, and matching black boots. His hair, usually curly and messy, now looks so sharp that you wonder if he got a haircut this morning; it’s a little shorter, definitely neater, and brushed back a little.

But what your eyes keep going back to the most are the few buttons on his shirt that are undone, showing off his tanned skin and a smattering of freckles you had barely noticed before. It makes you want to trace every single one with your tongue and find out if he would whine when you'd suck a hickey on his neck.

He’s at the bar, waiting for his drink, so you slide in right next to him and bump against his arm. “Hey. Don’t tell me you’re drinking those craft beers?”

“Jesus. No, of course not.”

The expression on his face is one of instant disgust, and you can’t help but laugh at the candid response. “Wow, didn’t think there’d be someone else who’d hate them as much as I do.”

Joel grumbles something, then gives the bartender a nod as he takes a glass of whiskey from him. When the guy turns to you to take your order, you point at Joel’s glass. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

The guy gives you a doubtful look. “Can I see some ID?”

“Yes, you can. It’s called ‘I’m the daughter of the guy who is paying your salary tonight’ and I’m twenty two. Thanks for making that drink now.” You stare at him, daring him to push back against you - you are NOT in the mood for this tonight, especially not in front of Joel. After a few moments, the bartender sighs and shrugs as he turns around, reaching for a glass and some ice. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, so you turn towards him to give him a similar look. “What? Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m being a brat.”

“Nah.” Joel shakes his head as he sips from his whiskey. “You’d just get off on that. That’s not brattiness - you’re actually being rude,” he says, then wanders off to go talk to someone nearby.

You stare at him with an open mouth, anger starting to creep into you. How the fuck does he dare to just say something like that to you? It hurts, and most of all it gives you a pang of concern that maybe you’ve ruined your chances with him - between this and the way he responded at the pool a few days ago.

“Oh honey, forget about it.” The bartender gives you a look that’s bordering on pity and disdain, his inflection drastically different all of a sudden as he pushes a glass towards you. “That man ain’t into you. Wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Why don’t you go find somebody of your own age to play with, hmmm?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”, you snap at him as you grab the glass and stalk off, his words feeling like claws that have sunk into your skin and won’t let go of you. The burn of the liquor doesn’t help you in the way you’d hoped for, and you find yourself craving something stronger, sweeter. Anything that’ll help you take the edge off.

Anything, in this case, turns out to be 6’3”, blond, looks like a jock and is named… Brady? Brody? Brad. Ben. Blake. Something like that, you can’t remember, but it’s unimportant after having chatted with him for all of ten minutes. What matters is that he’s not a bad kisser, smells fine - not woodsy like Joel unfortunately - and his hands are large as well as eager, pressing you with your back against the solid wood of the pergola.

If it wouldn’t ruin the mood for him, you probably would’ve laughed at the irony of making out with Blaine - Brandon? Brayden? No. Bruno. Bruce. Barry. Maybe it was Chad after all - right against the pergola that Joel had built over the past couple of days.

You’d been watching Joel from your bay window, his muscles straining in the sun, while he grunted the way you had memorized from his Instagram videos. And for all of those three days, you’d had several orgasms as you’d watched him. Some of them were thanks to your fingers, others due to toys - varying from the small bullet vibe to the thrusting rabbit vibrator you used for longer sessions. But in the end, all of this had been going on for too long. The flirting, the way you’d feel him look at you regularly, the build up of tension; it had you feral by now, and you just wanted Joel.

You are gonna get him. Soon. Even if it means needing to make him jealous.

“Should we- should we go inside?” Jock guy pauses his kisses, leaning his forehead against yours as he runs his hands down your body, and you can feel him press hot and heavy against your thigh. Fuck, he is hung. “We’ll have some more privacy, and…”

“No, this is fine,” you say quickly, your eyes scanning the crowd of people across the yard. Most of them are unaware of your makeout session, and your glance slides right past them, but suddenly you detect Joel not too far away from where you are. He is staring right at you, gripping his whiskey glass in your hand, and when the guy next to him says something, he only shakes his head, not breaking his glance with you.

“Are you…”

“I said this is fine,” you said sharply to the guy with his hands on your hips. A frown plays over his face, and in a gesture of good will you let your hand brush over the crotch of his pants, tracing the outline of his dick. “Nobody is watching.”

He groans, his lips finding yours again as he pushes himself against your hand. You kiss him back eagerly this time, your arms around him as you turn him just the slightest bit so you can keep your view of Joel. He’s talking to the guy next to him now, a back and forth conversation, but every now and then his eyes slide back to you, and then there’s a nod he gives you that makes you shiver.

Baxter, or Bart, Bobby, or whatever the hell his name is, slips his hand under your skirt, and you moan when his fingertips trace your lacy underwear. You hear how he sucks in air for a second, then his chest almost puffs up in pride at how wet he finds you. Silly guy. He thinks it’s because of him, that his not-too-bad kisses have riled you up so much. Has no damn clue how Joel’s eyes are back on you again.

“Touch me,” you breathe at him, and then hold your breath when he does so. Thick fingers - though not as thick as Joel’s - slipping under the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side while your eyes remain locked on Joel. You’re trying to merge the touches with your fantasies and the visual of Joel right in front of you, conjuring up his voice. You think of the way he’d tease you with slow, playful strokes over your pussy, each time a little more focused on your clit, making you delirious with need before he’d even consider sliding a finger into your soaked cunt.

But reality seems more than unwilling to blend with your fantasies. While initially the guy seemed to smell fine, you’re now noticing the overwhelming amount of generic fuck boy cologne he’s wearing, the scent unsettling and clearly something Joel would never even wear. He doesn’t smell like a hard day’s work on Joel does and his hands are too smooth, too well taken care of. No roughness from manual labor whatsoever, no finesse to tease you, and definitely not much muscle memory on how to properly get a woman going.

Instead he’s just clumsy, perhaps because all the blood has rushed to his cock that’s pressing insistently against you. Substitute-Joel’s fingers slide over your folds only one disappointing time, clearly not even attempting to find your clit. He fumbles around as his own breathing grows heavy, then suddenly tries to push two fingers inside of you - without any further prep or even checking if that’s okay with you.

It abruptly ruins the horny spell you’d been under several minutes ago, and you swear as you grab his hand to stop him, your pussy strongly objecting to his fingers trying to invade you.

“Hey! Fucking hell,” you hiss, pulling his hand out of your underwear before he can go any further. “You always fingerbang girls without properly prepping them?”

“What? You’re practically dripping on me,” he hisses back as he looks confused. But you’re not about to end up in a discussion about how being wet doesn’t mean he can just shove his fingers inside of you - let alone without any warning.

“Never mind,” you say as you push him away from you, then straighten your clothes as you move away from the pergola. “Let’s just forget this happened, okay? I’ve gotta go say hi to someone.”

“Bitch,” he mutters at you, adjusting his tie and the collar of his shirt. On most days you would’ve gladly torn him a new asshole for that, but you’re just not in the mood to further engage with him. So you start to head into Joel’s direction, but then see that he seems to have moved elsewhere, leaving you to look around in confusion.

You look up when you hear a group of men laugh, and see your father shake some hands as he offers his audience a few more words. Joel is there too, you realize, still with a drink in his hand. Your father gives him a friendly pat on his arm, which is returned with Joel’s signature nod, as he then heads over to some other people who look more than eager to greet him. It makes your skin crawl to see him acting like some kind of politician, eager to make a good impression on everyone, and you quickly turn away from him to look back at Joel - who is now looking straight at you again, without saying anything.

It’s not until you’re back at the bar for another whiskey - you’ve lost track of how many you’ve had - that he shows up next to you, giving you a gentle nudge like you had done to him earlier. “D’you eat anything recently?”, he asks, absentmindedly playing with a coaster on the bar. You can smell the smokey alcohol on his breath, see that the buttons on his shirt are just a little more opened than they were a little while ago, and it just makes you ache for him.

“Shut up, Joel,” you mutter, but he doesn’t follow your suggestion - instead he picks up the whiskey that the bartender slides over to you and takes a sip of it.

“A water for her, please?”, he asks, then covers the liquor glass with his hand when you try to reach for it. “No. You’re done.”

You’re starting to seethe at this point. “Who the fuck you think you are telling me how much I can drink?,” you snap at him. His eyes are infuriatingly calm, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips makes it clear he’s a lot more amused than you are.

“Easy, darling. Just looking out for you, okay?” He pushes the glass of ice water on the counter over to you, but you have half a mind to throw it at him.

“Why are you bothering me?”

His eyebrows raise at the word ‘bothering’, but he doesn’t quite respond to it. “Just have some water and food,” he says softly. “You’ll feel like shit if you don’t.”

“You’re drunk too.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you. “Yeah, well… have to get through this all somehow, don’t I? Been drinking water too, though.” He gives you a look as he takes another sip of whiskey, sighing.

“I don’t get why you’re here.” Your head is spinning a little, but at this point you’re not sure if it’s the booze or proximity to Joel that’s getting to you. The memory of that jock guy’s cologne is far from your mind by now, replaced now by that smell that you crave - the cologne you would recognize anywhere, layered with Joel’s own scent. And it’s driving you mad. “Nobody is making you, unlike they’re doing with me.”

A smile plays over Joel’s face and he shrugs. “Your mom asked me.”

You can’t help but laugh. “My— what? And that’s why you’re voluntarily subjecting yourself to all of this?” You gesture around the yard, the groups of stuffy people, pretentious bite sized food and music that makes you desperately want to connect your phone to the speaker system. “I’ve been to so many of these. It’s awful, every single time.”

You’re waiting for him to tell you it’s not that bad, or even that you should suck it up. But instead he simply doesn’t respond, and only gives you a raised eyebrow as he has some more whiskey. When he puts the glass down on the bar, you impulsively swipe it and drain it before he can interfere, waiting for an actual retort this time.

A frown slides onto his face and you grin almost triumphantly at the reaction, pushing the empty glass back towards him, only ice cubes remaining in it now. “I think you like dramatic,” you then blurt out, and see how he blushes slightly, the red flush creeping up from his chest to his neck.

“That what you think?” His eyes flick over you, and you nod, poking him in the chest with your finger.

“Yeah. You’re… practical. Proper. Maybe kinda boring. You got your routine.” You really should stop talking with all that liquor in your system, but you refuse to admit he was right about you needing to sober up. “Maybe getting close to a midlife crisis? Working your job and then all the reno on your house. Don’t see you chill a whole lot.”

You run your finger a little down his chest, then place your full hand against his shirt as you lean over to his ear. “I think you want some fun,” you whisper in his ear, barely audible due to the music playing at the party. “Somebody who shakes things up. Brings a little drama and excitement.”

Joel’s eyes are slightly unfocused from the whiskey, just like yours probably are, and you can tell that his guard is down in ways that you haven’t experienced before. “Old, huh? Boring, old, and close to a midlife crisis,” he says after a moment, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. “But you would shake things up? Why would you bother with an old man?”

“Maybe I’m into that.” You bite your lip as you hesitate for a moment. “The whole DILF thing. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me.”

His smirk widens into an actual grin now as he laughs, looking away at some commotion or a gathering that’s happening at the party. When he looks back at you, his eyes are darker than usual, and you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Little girl. You are in over your head.” His words are measured and quiet as he seems to pick them carefully, his hand now reaching for yours that’s still resting against his chest, and he gently pulls it off his shirt. “ Y’don’t even have a clue of what you’re playing with, darling. What are you gonna do? Rock my world? At your father’s party?”

“I don’t give a shit about his party,” you say sharply, but he shakes his head, interrupting you.

“But that’s the thing. You do,” he murmurs. “Y’couldn’t be more thrilled than to do so here, just to make a scene. Like you did with that guy.”

You feel victorious hearing him confirm that he had been watching you, and together with his ‘little girl’ comment it’s enough to make you soak your panties on the spot. “Were you jealous?”, you ask him challengingly.

He chuckles again, this time getting up from the barstool, and you take in his physique, admiring the way those tailored pants fit around his thighs. “Have some more water. And food,” he tells you, and in the split second you have before he turns away, you make up your mind. Perhaps it’s more like instinct, to do what you’ve been stopping yourself from doing for a while now.

You grope him.

Fingers quick as you cup him through his pants, closing around his balls and a part of his dick. It takes effort to bite back a whimper at finally feeling him, thick and hot and heavy in your hand, after all those weeks that you’ve been here and tried to figure out what the right move was. You hold his eyes defiantly, lips parted as you’d like to use your words but they all seem stuck in your throat.

His surprised intake of air when you grab him is immediate, and he looks frazzled as he shakes his head, tugging your hand abruptly away from his cock. “You out of your damn mind?”, he hisses, looking more than just a little flustered. “In front of everyfuckingbody?”

“So come insi—” The words die on your tongue when you suddenly see your mom approaching from a couple of feet behind Joel, unaware of what’s happening between the two of you, but apparently in search of you as she calls your name. Joel and you immediately step away from each other, him leaning against the bar as he seems to need a moment to compose himself. You have even less time to plaster a smile on your face for your mother, so you just nod enthusiastically as she rambles at you about some person’s son you should come meet. Your heart feels like it’s hammering out of your chest as you force yourself to tell her that you’d love to meet them, bringing a smile to your mom’s face.

Just as you’re about to join her to meet this person, your mom pauses at the bar and puts her hand on Joel’s shoulder. “By the way, he said that he could use your help with moving that thing, if you have time? Think he’s inside, couldn’t find you,” she said, and Joel nods while humming something affirmatively. His eyes flit to you for a split second before he looks down at the bar again, and he seems to wait until the two of you have moved away until he goes inside.

You’re in a mild daze as you follow your mom through the crowd, performing the role you’re expected to play, while the moment that you grabbed Joel plays on repeat in your head. The gasp that spilled from his lips, the way he didn’t say “no” - just “in front of everybody?”, which was an entirely different thing, and frankly… he wasn’t wrong.

You can wait. Just that little bit longer. It’ll be so worth it.

Joel's outfit at the party (as a dress shirt and pants instead of a jumpsuit):

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Thank you for reading, commenting or reblogging - I appreciate it so very much 🙏

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates + turn on notifs to see when the finale drops later this week!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #dbf!joel miller #tlou au #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you

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wildemaven · 6 months ago

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I read it again after you reblogged it, and definitely cried! 🥹

Like look at this face!!! 😭😭

Thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to read and share! 💕

Saturdays with Javier: Always, Forever

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 1463

Warnings: Talks of death/loss; otherwise pure softness and fluff

A/N: This came to me late the other night and I’m a mess. I’ve been wanting to write more for these two, but didn’t want it to feel forced. This seemed like the perfect addition to their story. Hoping it flows well and doesn’t seem too rushed. The quote mentioned didn’t have a source that I could find, but if you happen to know please let me know and I will site it. Like always, this is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own doing. I also added some Spanish, it’s been many years since I’ve studied it or spoke it, so I apologize if I miss stepped and miss used any words/phrases, I used google translate (please let me know and I will fix).

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

His nerves are firing off the charts. This isn’t some planned raid he’s done with a crowd of well trained men behind him. No bullet proof vest to protect his rapidly beating heart.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe.

His gaze shifts from the ground below his feet, up and out to the faces sitting before him. All familiar in their own right. Each one bringing a sense of peace to his nervous riddled body.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe.

A few family and close friends sit under the old tree that’s tucked away on the back side of his father’s ranch. Draped in a simple white cloth, the tree has been witness to many life events throughout Javier’s lifetime.

It’s branches providing protection on the hot summer days as a teen. A spot at the base of the trunk he’d find himself when life felt the most unfair.

After the loss of his Mama, this tree was where her service was held. Many gathering beneath its coverage to celebrate the beautiful woman she was. That day Javier spoke about how much she meant to him and how he’d do his best to grow up to be the man she wanted him to become.

The branches continuing to provide protection even as a grown man. Each visit sitting in the same spot. He’d talk to his Mama here, not ever really sure if she could hear him. He’d tell her about all what had happened between each visit. It’s where he shared with her his thoughts and feelings. He’d told her about the DEA and how he’d be leaving for Colombia— expressing it would be awhile before he would be able to visit again. Each visit to this spot he felt closer to her. Before he would leave, he’d look up through the crown of branches and leaves and tell her he loved her, “Te Amo Siempre”.

Steve, Connie and Olivia are among those gathered today— they wouldn’t dream of missing this day. He nods to Steve, a silent thank you for the many hours of travel to be here.

Your parents sit in the first row of the few chairs scattered about. Hands clasped together in your mothers lap. She smiles up at him and it feels like a warm hug. Your Dad gives a slight nod, a silent thank you to Javier for being the partner he wished for his daughter.

Across the isle, Chucho sits in his finest suit. His signature cowboy hat blocking the afternoon sun that’s filtering through the leaves. He’s holding his late wife’s handkerchief tightly, already anticipating the waves of emotions the day will bring.

Beside his pops is an open chair. Something you’d suggested in the early stages of planning as a way to honor his Mama. A single rose sits on the seat, picked from one of the many roses bushes Chucho still tends to for her all these years later. Javier knows his Mama would love you, you possess so many qualities similar to her own.

A breeze picks up, the branches swaying slightly and a sense of calmness washes over Javier. He looks up, the leaves dancing in delight and he can sense his Mama watching over this day.

The music shifts to the next song, cuing the walk he’s been waiting to witness for what feels like a lifetime. A guitarist strumming the beginning chords of the familiar tune, he insisted it be your song, as you make your way to him. He’s not sure he’s ever been so captivated by anything as stunning as you.

Your white dress flowing with each step you take— closer to him, closer to being his wife. He’s waiting for you, look so handsome in his black suit and bow tie.

You wanted to surprise him with something special for this day.

Weeks ago you had ask Chucho if would be possible to take one of his Mama’s old dresses to repurpose it into something for Javier. He was more than willing, and gave you one of her favorites. She’d worn it to so many family holidays and gatherings when Javier was younger, Chucho mentioning it was one of Javier’s favorites too.

Enlisting the help of Javier’s Tia, you made him a simple bow tie and pocket square. On the corner of the pocket square, you stitched his Mama’s initials, MP.

Last night after dinner with family, before parting ways, you presented him with a small box containing the handmade gift. You explained to Javier the story behind how they came to be, hoping he would love them.

He was beyond speechless at your generosity in making him something so special and meaningful. He held you close and you both cried together— not in sadness but in the love you shared for each other and what was to be.

Whispered words of gratitude danced across your lips, Javier doing his best to express his love for you and yet he feels like it’s not enough. The last shared kiss before seeing each again, parting ways beneath the starry night.

Your song carries through the emotion rich atmosphere, you feet guiding you to the row of seats taken by your mother and father. You turn to them, their smiles bigger than you’d ever seen before. Their arms wrapping around you, they each place a kiss on your forehead.

You turn around to see Chucho. He’s a blubbering mess, wiping the tears as you make your way to him. He stands and pulls you in— he tells you he’s never seen his son happier and more present since you stepped into his life. You thank him for everything he does to aid in Javier’s contentment as you wipe a few tears from his face.

You step around Chucho to the open chair next to him. Bending down you place your bouquet, a small bundle of delicate white flowers wrapped in a gauzy white ribbon, on the seat next to the single rose. You close your eyes and thank Maria for being with you today as you marry her son. And you promise to love Javier until your last breath.

Javier

It’s Saturday, it’s easily become my favorite day of the week. When you asked me to dance that Saturday night, I had no clue I was stepping into a forever.

A forever spent with you is what I envisioned on my drive home that night. I knew you were it for me, and since that day you continue to prove me right.

My life has a greater purpose now. It’s showing you how much you are loved daily and never letting your nightmares win. I will continue to hold you in the early hours of the morning so you know you are home and you are not alone.

I read a quote the other day and it feel so fitting for our life together.

“Someday when the pages of my life end, I know that you will be one of the most beautiful chapters.”

I promise you forever Javier. Forever with you will always be enough.

I love you Javier

Mi Amor

I never thought I was deserving of a life filled with love and happiness, but you showed me that I am.

From a young age, I kept parts of me tucked away from everyone, especially myself. Being vulnerable was too risky in the line of work I was in, and as the years went on I forgot what it was even like to feel anything but grief and despair.

When I came home from Colombia, it was hard to imagine a life of normalcy. Until I walked into that bar and asked a complete stranger to dance. I believe that moment is when I knew my life would become more fulfilling than I ever dreamed.

You see me, flaws and all, yet still continue to love me. My days are brighter now, and I owe that to you.

I promise this life together will be forever— because forever with you is a lifetime worth living for.

Thank you for loving me with your heart and soul. I will spend the rest of my life hoping I can make you feel as loved as you make me feel.

Te amo

Vows exchange and rings placed, he can’t help but admire you— taking it all in. A kiss shared that’s more impactful than any bullet that’s threatened his life.

He wipes the few fleeing tears from your cheeks. His touch, warm and delicate against your skin.

Declaring his love for you in front of those who mean the most was not anything he’d ever expected for himself. Now he doesn’t see a future where you aren’t with him, tucked securely into his side— loved and protected.

#reallyrallyauthor #sweet friends saying sweet things

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