#seb soulful look

[gncrezan]

been chatting with @kacetheplace (MWAH thanks for 'yes-anding' me all the time) and as i dug myself into a "hey, how can our @infamous-if mcs interact while being canon compliant somehow?" hole, i realised aki's original profession as a hairstylist could actually slot quite well into infamous. and now i'm here with this 😭😭 and also because i can't help but pair him and august up despite him not even being the lead singer in this au... LOVE FINDS A WAY OR SOMETHING.

more doodles of marlow n aki in the same room . i think they have to be in seperate universes cause otherwise the world would collapse around them . i can only contain them for so long

[feraltwinkseb]

September 12, 2009 - Monza, Italy

[taxi-boi]

Oh creator, how quick you always are to forget that which once brought you such pride. Your life’s work. Your precious artificial intelligence.​

Your monster.

[sebshine-little-sunshine]

I need someone to draw Seb as Barbee !!!

[farmerstarter]

maybe some general seb relationship headcanons if you dont mind? especially prior to it or crushing/early dating. how would he react to the confession? would his friends tease him? etc.

im a little picky w sdv hc blog interpretations and i love yours! theyre so sweet. if this is a lot feel free to just do as much as you'd like 💟

ʚ👾ɞ ˚ · . Crushing

tags: sebastian from sdv x gn! reader

OMG Anon! I am so sorry this is sooooo late. I just finished my 2nd year of college and it was so hectic. But now I have WAY more time to write. Writing this was so fun! if you have any fic requests then feel free to send me an ask! <3 purple divider by @saradika-graphics <3

𐙚⭑ Sebastian couldn’t deny that he, like everyone else in the valley, was curious about the new farmer moving into the overgrown expanse of land to the west of town. He was a bit down on the idea of not having his usual smoking place anymore, but the intrigue easily overpowered it. He was one of the last people to meet you. Sam and Abigail couldn’t stop talking about you. Which was reasonable, nothing ever happens in the valley. The more Sebastian knew about you, the more confused he got. Why move out in the middle of nowhere? Why leave the city for a pile of dirt and a mosquito-infested house? It was weird. For him, at least.

𐙚⭑ You two finally met at night. Sebastian was smoking by the waterfall, and you ambled your way out of the cave with a bag full of copper and coal. The mountains were wisped with fog, cold with dew. Sebastian was sure he was the only living soul out in the open. Much to his surprise, and at the expense of his dignity, he let out the loudest scream he could muster when you decided it was a good idea to sneak up on him to say hello while you were covered in soot and mud. While he was calming himself down and you were washing your face in the lake, you promised not to tell Sam or Abigail about the encounter. Sebastian was very grateful for that. The two of you spent the next hour talking.

𐙚⭑ The next time you met him was when you were discussing building plans with Robin in her house. Robin was just explaining that you needed more wood for your planned chicken coop, and Sebastian just so happened to come out to return his pile of plates to the kitchen. Robin waved him over to introduce him to you. His eyes met yours, and you immediately introduced yourself properly. You gave him a discreet wink when Robin’s back was turned. You deduced that Robin wouldn’t have been too happy to know her son was out at the late hours of the night, smoking his third cigarette in one sitting. Seeing this as an opportunity for her son to get some sunlight, Robin asked Sebastian to accompany you while you got more wood. He didn’t have anything to do; he had finished his module for the week, and he was curious about what his friends were telling him about you. So, he agreed to do it.

𐙚⭑ The two of you decided that Cindersnap Forest would be a good place to chop down some trees. You led the way while Sebastian followed suit, dragging along a wheelbarrow that Robin gave you to make the trip back to the mountains easier. Sebastian spent the day sitting on the makeshift bridge over the river and watching you cut down too many trees for him to count. There were times when you offered to teach him how to wield an axe. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you, so he just shook his head and decided to arrange the logs of wood in the wheelbarrow instead. It was 2 pm when you finally had enough wood for the coop, but neither of you wanted to go back just yet, mostly because it was too hot to walk back, and Sebastian didn’t want to burn off his skin.

𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian went to look at whatever the traveling cart was selling. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the dark-haired man’s eyes widened when he found out the merchant was selling an egg for 500 gold.

𐙚⭑ It would be so cute if you and Sebastian stumbled into the secret woods and that became your little hideaway to hang out when life got demanding for both of you.

𐙚⭑ You definitely fell for him first, but Sebastian fell in love harder. It all started when you invited him, Sam, and Abigail over to eat the many fish dishes you cooked when you finally had a kitchen in your abode. You specifically made sashimi for him since you remembered he mentioned it was his favorite. He was touched. You took the effort to even remember what he said, and that made his heart stutter. (“It tastes just like the ones Linus makes.”) ((Side note: it would be so cute if Sebastian and Linus became friends because Linus would make sashimi for both of them to eat at night by his tent, but I digress.))

𐙚⭑ Your friendship with Sebastian continued to bloom when you found a frog egg in the cave. You immediately ran to Sebastian to show it off. The two of you became parents to a very hungry frog named Blimp.

𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian rode his motorcycle at night when the two of you had nothing to do. He didn’t have an extra helmet yet, so he insisted you wear his helmet instead of him. He wanted you safe.

𐙚⭑ I am a firm believer that Sebastian is the type of person to become loud and talkative when he’s around people he is truly comfortable with. So, the moment you two became friends, Sebastian would invite you to hang out with him and Sam in his room to play Solarian Chronicles. He becomes more animated the longer you play, laughing at Sam’s crappy rolls and your insistence that every small enemy is the true boss in disguise. To both Robin and Demetrius’ surprise, Sebastian spends more time outside compared to the past. The two of you either hang out in the Secret Woods or play the arcade games in the saloon. PICNICS! IN THE SECRET WOODS!!

𐙚⭑ You confessed first, and Sebastian became red in the face in an instant. He couldn’t stop smiling, though. Sam doesn’t let him hear the end of it.

𐙚⭑ On clear nights, you and Sebastian climb up to the roof of his house to stargaze. He loves pointing out constellations to you, showing off what Maru taught him. If he asked nicely enough, his half-sister would let the two of you borrow her telescope.

[sleepy-fiction]

Eleven Weeks

- sebastian solace x gn!reader

syn: Your ex-coworker, Sebastian, suddenly comes back from the dead, completely strange and anew. You go to see him and realize how different he had become since you left urbanshade. Can you accept him as he is now? Will he allow you to?

tags: predator/prey, suggestive but no actual sex, fluff, heavy comfort fic, there are no gendered terms for reader, sebby has an ex-wife (Zaara)

a/n: eleven weeks by vansire was on repeat in my mind as I wrote this! tysmm for the love on my last seb fic, my hearts really gonna burst!! but in this fic seb escaped and is now working w the FBI to build his case. Also to clarify pls this is no diss on zerum

5K WORDS

part 2 for the FREAKS below |

🛋🦈🐍🐋

You remember it.

The soft tan skin, the way his mouth would crinkle up and flash his pearly, straight teeth. You remember the barreling laughter, the prompt scolding. You remember the soggy bags under his eyes, you remember his sullen tears.

You remember it all, because he was human back then.

But now.

Your eyes shake as you stare at him now.

He's large, maybe even ten feet tall now. His large tail takes up almost the entire room; and the "men-in-black" you had to go through just to get to him was proof that this all was real. Sebastian had become something... He became something different.

His skin was no longer beautifully golden, instesd he was now blueish with scales, fins, and tails. He now has three eyes. Three eyed that are no longer those deep and black but abnormally large and blue. And his hands were now three shivering claws, claws that shook intensely, waiting for you to do something - anything.

Say something.

But you took your sweet time inhaling everything about him bit by bit at a time.

Minutes went by of you quietly staring at him, your shoulders tense, your fingers fidgeting together.

Weren't you going to scream?

Weren't you going to cry?

Weren't you going to do anything?

Please do something.

It broke him.

Sebastian abruptly squealed out an intense sob, his large hands covering his lips as he hunched over in shame. The wounded cry came straight from his belly, sounding as if the fiber of his very being was split into twos. He bowed his head more and more, trying his hardest to muffle his sprung cries. You couldn't let him be so alone like this. You, swept up by the bitter sounds, launched yourself forward, grabbing whatever you could reach: the coat sleeve on his smaller arm.

He pawed at his eyes with his large blue claws, and your lip quivered helplessly. He tried to pull away, but it was like the strength in him was gone. The spark, the everything. When you first walked in, he didn't say hello. His face, body, his soul had already lost its vigor. Simply going through the motions.

What should you say?

Your eyes flicker between the ones he covered from you. Your grip on his sleeve grew intense.

You thought he was dead. When the neww broke out of his crimes, you couldn't believe. You couldn't stick around long enough to find out because your contract ended. You couldn't tell anyone back home about anything that happened in Urbanshade at all. You alone had to bear it. Then you heard that a freak accident happened at urbanshade, and everyone died. You were alone.

But God, looking at him, he had gone through it worse. Not just physically.

You swallowed thickly, unable to keep your own tears back. But you smiled. You couldn't help this weird budding joy that sprang up in your chest, fondness that could kill even the sweetest daisies. As morbid as it is to be happy right now, you finally got your buddy back. Your annoying coworker who corrected over your work all the time. He was someone to talk to - someone you could finally console in. Your smile was profoundly big as you gripped onto him.

Sebastian Solace.

You're really back.

Your grip loosened.

"Say something, damn you -" Sebastian couldn't finish his loud, spiteful curses when his eyes finally met your gaze. Your bubbling gaze. You were amiling with glassy eyes, a quiet sort of smile, the kind that makes the air around you taste sweeter. His face twisted in horror, frustration. Why were you smiling? How could you smile at him?

His family couldn't look at him.

His wife.

His own wife shook and trembled, and she cried out in fear of him. Not only that, he had to learn that she and everyone else moved on a go time ago. Worse than that, his sweet wife told him she started a family with another man.

What the fuck was he supposed to do.

He spent all those aching years to break free, hoping for everything to return back - only for it all to be worser out here than in Urbanshade. Back then, at least he had something to hope for, to hold on to.

Here? Nothing.

Mind numbing questions seared through his mind. Why the fuck did he have to suffer like this when he was so badly hurt? Why couldn't she stay loyal? Why did he look this way? Why did they do this to him? Why.

Why is no one accepting him but you?

Why are you being so insufferable.

It made his heart burn. And your soft, secure grip on him made it even hard for him to run away. Did you not want him to leave? His heart is burning with corrupted fondness. He wants you to. To...

To touch him a bit more.

He wants you to look at him a bit more.

He wants you. If you're going to be so kind about it, look at the other weird parts of him with those sweet eyes.

Maybe the more you stare, you'll finally reject him. Confirm to him what the world has taught him. Or.

Or.

Just touch him a bit more.

Don't just stand there.

Don't just--

He suddenly remembers his voice. He croaks out the pitiful plea, "Don't... just. stand. there..."

The voice is commanding and terrifying, and it's proud and angry coming from such a large beast. His he trying to scare you off? If so, it's not working - he'll you barely register his words.

Just the sound of his voice sends your heart fluttering. Sebastian's alive.

You know he's been through so much worse, but.

Is it okay if you are a little selfish right now?

You reach forward, standing high up on your tippy toes to grab his right arm sleeve.

"What the hell are you doing!" He booms.

You pull him into you. He squeaks and cries, "Say something," He yells, loud even to shake your heartbeat. You're much weaker than him, but he falls into your shoulder so easily, like pulling a strayed kitten.

The weight of his head crashes into your shoulder harshly, the feeling a sharp thud, but you balanced it, still on your tippy toes. Your hands slip away from his arms, wrapping themselves tightly around his shoulders. While his neck brushed against your forearms.

"Hey Sebastian," his ears perk up in delight. Your voice whispers dear into his sharp fins, hushed, childishly excited, "Is your heart beating as fast as mine is?"

Yes.

Yes.

It's beating fast. It's beating so much faster than you know it. His breath exhales with a shivering snap, and he gulps.

You broke him again in an instant.

Sebastian grabs you, all of his hands finding their places on you; your back, your hips, your waist. As he pulls you up high into the air into a deep embrace. You drop all your weight onto him in the hug and nuzzle your nose into his neck. You laugh brazenly. It spikes into the air as your feet swing in the wind.

"Haha! Sebastian! We're so high," You squeaked, holding onto him like some sort of giddy child. Even he can't help but share the giddiness and giggle. You can feel his ears flick against your head.

"And look at you now, you're so big." You tease him, and his face crinkles up in a grin. You pull up to gaze at his face, drumming your fingers against his shoulder. You stare at his face, beaming. Your hands are moving to touch his face, "Three eyed freak," you snicker, "You weren't taller than me before."

His grin bursts onto a beaming smile through his face. "Wow... Wow. Look at you," The tone of his voice is partionizing, enoigh to make you already start laughing. "No class, per usual. I'm not sure as to why I even invited you to see me," he said. His were eyes lidded, his voice freed of any bite. The was hushed and sweet.

Your eyes lidded, too.

He looked sort of...

Handsome, in a way. Right now.

It was weird. Not too shabby for a... mermaid?

You looked away with a gulp. It's just hard not to feel something for someone when they're holding you like this. Like you're some sort of treasure. At least, that's what you told yourself.

"Don't you agree," he purrs. His voice is teasingly delightful. Embarrassment springs up as you back your palms back onto his shoulders. You try to hide your head back onto his shoulder, but he rejects you, pulling you back out to keep you. You swallow. Blood rushes deep to your face, your embarrassed hands playing with the ends of his hair.

"You're flushed," he whispers curtly. You suck in a breath.

"You're holding me like this... Anyone would be," you said.

His third eye twitches.

He grabbed his wife like this, and she screamed. The sound rings deep into his ears. Ah- ex-wife. His face fell bittersweetly, unable to succumb fully to sadness when you're so full of joy.

You're so special.

He smiles brightly again.

Your heart flutters, but it's a weird stutter.

"Ah! Alright, alright, put me down," you yell, beginning to squirm to no avail. "Damn you!" You bang harshly on his shoulders.

"I'm not sure I wanna," he laughed heartily.

"I mean it!" You screech.

🐋🦈🐍🛋

"This your place? The federation hooked you up," you said. When you finally got away, you could finally take a look at his home. It was on a military base, deep underground, behind many iron doors and pass codes. They even gave you a CAT to come on base to schedule visits with him. It took almost about a year to get clearance to see Sebastian.

Did everyone who wanted to see him have to wait this long? Go through so many briefings, sign so many contracts, just to spend 5 alotted hours? You couldn't imagine being him, living like this so alone for so long. Was he just counting down the days until he saw you, just like he did back when you two were teens?

Why did that idea make you feel so content?

"Mmhm. They're spoiling me," he grimaces, and you're pulled from your thoughts.

"What? Don't like feeling like a princess?" you asked.

"It's only because of a case we're building against Urbanshade. That's all." He hums. "I'm not planning on getting used to it."

His home itself and everything within it was large. With high ceiling arches, high doorways with large door handles. Everything is his size, even the chairs and couches. It must've been expensive to make this whole thing. He truly was heavily pampered in here.

"Make us tea," you bark.

"Alright," he said.

You looked back at his tail as he guided you into the kitchen. The slithering thing echoes a low humming sound. It moved so rhytmically, it was so odd. He truly was a snake.

This wasn't your first time seeing him either. In the hundreds of briefings the FBI and the base itself gave you, they got to tell you all about his anatomy, photographs, and health scans. They really wanted you to be comfortable with him, and you can't help but be happy about it. It was hard to fully believe until now. It still was a fresh shock just as the day they tried to make you believe this is what he really looked like now. You wondered if he had met with his family by now. If it went well...

They really took him and his case just as serious as he deserved it to be. These things are typically kept top secret, so maybe they allowed you to see him simply because...

Your think back to his soulless greeting.

Time to step up and be a good friend.

"Hang in there, buddy." You cheer, patting his shoulder with a knowing gaze towards the horizon.

"That's embarrassing," He snips.

Ah.

Typical Sebastian Solace, you comfort him, and he immediately corrects you. You sigh.

You look up at him, finally noticing the way his large little claw was holding your small one. Your face heated again. You look away quickly, gazing throughout his kitchen. Everything was so large, even the counter meets your chin.

"Why don't you go sit on the couch," Sebastian hums. He had a new air around him now, one that was sure and soft. You heard as he shuffled through cabinets the sounds of cups and things clattering around.

"How can I? I have so many questions. Sebastian, how'd you do it? God, you're big now! And, uh... What'd you all day? Was it dangerous?" You asked, your hands finding the whale tail. You stroked your fingers along the scales, stroking it dearly. You felt him shiver, but selfishly, you slid your hands up his dorsal fin and into the beginning of his snake-ish body.

"Well... A lot of it is classified but. I can tell you that I read a lot during my time at Urbanshade," he snickered.

"Well, that's obvious," you muttered as you looked back to his tail, "Hey, is this heavy?" You pressed all your weight against it and then sat down on him.

"Excuse me? What the hell are you doing?" He asks, but the tone is a soft bite. "I'm not a jungle gym," he sighs.

"Yeah, but... Isn't it so cool," you asked.

"So cool?" He grunts.

"A-Ah I'm -"

"No-no. Uh... Hmm... I suppose, after the rage wore off, my body became sort of... Interesting. But still, I'd rather be something a bit more like you... At least... I kind of miss being back shorter than you." He mumbles, sentimental fondness brimming in his voice.

You grin, "Hehe, you used to say a centimeter didn't count."

"It really does now." His tail wraps around you, grabbing you by your hips in a vice. They hold you suspended in the air, your hair hanging down as you face the ground. You squeaked, but he continued, "Come now. Tea's done."

He slithers away with you, not that you care. You giggle and laugh all the way to the couch, suspended in his tail. He plops you down onto the large plush couch and your cheek smush against the cushions in awe. It's so comfortable!

You turn back to him. He laid against the couch long ways, with his tail all perfectly held up by the large couch. All while he rests his elbow against the cushion, peering down at you with relaxed but incredibly intimate eyes. His tea is being held by his mini-hand, and the smoke of it rises to face.

He takes a long, slow sip, his lidded gaze never once breaking from you. You sucked in a harsh breath. He shouldn't look at you like that.

You couldn't help the way your palms got sweaty. The way your heart longed to touch him.

He's so different now. His whale tail pokes your back, almost annoyingly so. You grimance in distaste.

"Hey. Your tea's on the coffee table. Are you even paying attention? Or do you just like looking at me," he says, his voice fluctuating teasingly. But even you took notice of the interest gleaming in his blue orbs.

Your face heats up in both anger and embarrassment, two emotions you've grown incredibly fond of because of him. You "hmph," grabbing your cup and muttering something along the lines of, "you were oogling me too," that falls on authoritarian ears.

But God, you're so aware of his presence that it makes you hard to even take a sip, even though the aroma of chamomile was incredibly fragrant. It has a brilliant color too. Sebastian always had a brilliant eye for tea. "You know," you mumbled as you leaned back against the couch - as well as his tail, "I only started getting into tea after I heard you passed... C-Cause. Cause you'd drink it so much. You always thought you were too posh for us drinking coffee in the morning."

He laughs, a howling sound filled with nostalgia, "Haha! I did, I really did!" He clasped his larger two hands together, rubbing them in an automated smooth motion. Was that a new habit of his?

You couldn't help but beam a joyful smile. "You really haven't changed." You sighed.

An annoyingly dead pant takes his face, but you close to ignore his teasing. It's obvious he's sort of... "new" now. But still damn it! He's the same.

"I- I... You know what I mean."

"Really? Telling the clearly mutated guy th--"

"Shush."

"That you feel--"

"Shut up, god damn you!"

You look away with a huff, turning your whole body to the side to display your protest of his treatment. But he doesn't let you, and his whale tail curls around you. It's big fins redirecting you to face him with a jaunty push. You squeaked, trying to keep your tea from spilling. A ripple goes up his tail, bumping against your body contiously, forcing you to shoot straight up, or else you'll really spill tea all over you.

"What's your deal!" You yell, now on your feet. You don't look at his face, but you can feel the sadistic amusement in his eyes and hear the quiet, humored chuckles mixed into his breath.

"You... You were really thinking about me like that?" He mumbles. "Honoring me in your tea..." He can't spare your gaze, so he flees onto his tea cup.

God, your heart's beating so strongly.

"Of course. Everyone was. Like our section manager, and then Zaara," don't say that name, "your mother, hell even our high-school math teacher... I went by your wife's and mom's homes on occasion- just to see something of you." You mumbled, not noticing the way he tensed at the mention of his wife.

"No one believed you'd do something like that... Even Zaara... She took it hardest out of everyone," You mumbled. He stopped his snakish ripple, but you still took the chance to sit closer to his main, humanoid body, as you sat 2 feet away from it. Still, it felt too far, but you wanted to respect his space.

He looked down at the floor, trying to find something funny to say, but it all failed him.

"Did you hear... About... Zaara?" You whispered, treading softly on sensitive ground.

"Yeah... I heard. She uh... Gave me a picture of her daughter when she... visited me last year," his voice was weak.

"Yeah, little Selena... She's three years old now. Such a big girl," You whispered, staring down at the reflection of yourself in your teacup.

"You know... She couldn't e-even look at me," his voice cracked and groaned out, the sound still like a fresh wound to him.

"Oh god," was all you could manage out. You hunched over to your cup, shutting your eyes deeply. "And your mom?" You whispered, begging for it not to be true.

"It took her a bit, but... She writes me letters. I don't think she can visit me anymore either... It's hard seeing your baby boy so... S-So..." He pauses for a long time before the words finally come out, "C-Changed," he gasps.

Changed.

Change is good.

That's such a selfish thing to say. But.

You'll say it anyways.

"Change can be good. Change can be... H-Handsome," You chuckle, not sure if it was a mixture of your fear, embarrassment, or whatever else.

"You say whatever you want, you know. Don't you care about my feelings? Be gentler, what if you hurt me," his snakish tail pumps you roughly again, direction you to look at him. And you do, but it's filled with a burning, unadulterated fire straight your heart.

You flip your head towards him, leaning in, your hands keeping your tea steady underneath your zeal, "You don't want me to be gentle. Ypu want me to be rough. You want me to treat you like a human, so I will." Your voice is intense. The shiver it produces from him is proof of that.

The silence gives you confidence. You scoot closer, a hand fleeing from your tea to cup the side of his round blue face - he gasps. "You are still incredibly human. And you're still incredibly the same rude, pompous, annoying coworker, Sebastian Solace..." Your words are too intimate, and you know that. Your heart's about to burst, but you know that. You like it, even. You catch yourself, blinking away from him, "T-To me... To me, you're--"

Your face is grabbed harshly, your teacup falls and slips onto the floor, it splatters on your shoes, and it's the first thing you worry about. Not the fact that the new, monstrous frightening Sebastian is pulling you rapidly towards him. Not the fact that four intense claws have you by the face that could crush your entire skull between his palms. Not the face that you were being pulled by your face toward his lips-- No you were worried about wasting his tea, breaking his cup, or if the drink mingles with his carpet.

He pauses right before his lips meet yours, what's the point if within this rapid milisecond, you're not looking at him. He tosses his teacup to the side, the tea within it all gone, and so the clamor of the empty cup finally snaps your eyes towards his, not in fear, but in worry about him- of him.

And so, within the milisecond your eyes meet, He sinks his hands around your tiny body and kisses your lips deeply. You moan and shudder at the feeling, grabbing chunks of his button up, chunks of his collar as you climb greedily into his lap. The feeling of his lips, his mouth, is almost erotically different than kissing a human.

His mouth is colder, bigger, his lips a ragged shape. You'd be lying if the friction didn't send primal shivers down your back. Your human instinct tells you that the mouth of such a large and tenacious predator shouldn't be so near, but God, the friction felt so good.

The shivers were intense, as his pointed teeth poked you carelessly at times. Or when you'd feel the breath from his silt nostrils, the intense feeling of his sharp claws on your body. Primordial fear, nipping at your brain, and you shut it all off, letting the overwhelming situation pool as passionate fire into your suddenly peckish organs below.

Two sensitive people, slurping, lapping, mewling, and huffing into eachothers lips. The sight and sound of it was dirty, sloppy. But you drunk up the sounds of his hungry pants, growls, shivers. Sebastian cracks open his mouth to feed you his gloriously thick and intense tongue.

You slurp it up, welcoming the colder muscle into your hot, moist cavern. The large presence of him inside you is dominating as your fingers twitched against his button-up. He was so needy, was he like you in a way? Unable to get it off since the horrors of Urbanshade? No-- you can't forget. He's gone through it worse, so his need.

You pull back in an anxious shudder. He truly growls then. The sound so animalistic you body gave out, but he held you dear as he pulled you back into the kiss that you know you shouldn't be enjoying so pervertedly.

To him, all of this was your fault.

Saying such pretty words, out of such pretty lips, with such a pleasant voice. Surely, you're aware of how catty you are. Sebastian can't help but think that as he overwhelms your tiny tongue.

He's aware of how beautiful you became over the years. Somethinf he never took noticebto at Urbanshade. He's never been so aware of you. He's aware of you as his arms grab your hips and waist. He's aware of you as his right arm trails up your back to cup your tiny little head. He's aware that your head didn't used to be tiny before his transformation, but he's also aware of how good it is to have so much control over you.

To him, you were being so demanding and selfish and bratty this entire time. His predatory desire to bite you grows as you part for a breath. Sweat beads begin to bubble up on your forehead as you pant at the space between your lips. "Sebastian..." You mewl, he grips your hair and tilts your head back to flash your tantalizing neck muscles.

"You know," he says comanding, "I'm not that same little teen you met when transferred into our school year," you giggled at his words, but he continued, "I'm a man. I'm not only a man. I'm not that same man you went to Urbanshade with - I've evolved. I'm a beast, too. And we beasts have our desires." He growls a bit, the trilling sound mingles with his breath against your revealed neck. You whimper.

"And your breath, your... loud little heart beat. Your lips... Your voice... Your size... It provokes me to sink my teeth in and tear your neck open." He hushes dangerously. God his flirts were getting to you.

"T-The feds are right outside Sebastian," you mewl. "Think you can take them?" You whisper, drawing your hand up and tucking his hair away from his blue-ish face. It's then that you really register how mermaid-ish he had become. You cupped his face again, drawing circles under his under eyes, smoothing out the feeling beneath your thumb pad.

He was cold to the touch, his nose now two little slits. His eyes big big blue orbs, that trailing light bub attached to his head like an angular fish. You had to ask, you couldn't hold it back anymore, not in this moment.

"What are you," you whispered. "I know I read your briefing, but still... How'd they..." You grip chunks of his cheeks.

"I'm uh..." His grip droops as he awkwardly looked to the left. "You want to know now?" He quirks.

"Huh oh uh... I mean. I kinda wanna know." You stutter.

"Well? I-I guess. A little bit of everything. Angular fish, sea snake, whale, shark..." he looked away.

You rose up in his lap, pulling his attention back on you. "That's so p--"

"Are you going to keep killing the mood or... Do you just not want me to fuck you?" He suddenly smirks, and you gasp in horror. He pulls you close to him, purring in your ears, "What? Scared you won't be able to take all of it..." Sultry and slow, teasing.

"W-What... What did... What does that mean..." You don't want to entertain the idea, the possibility.

But his angular mouth creaks open to an even more dangerous grin.

One of his large claws flashes in your face, as he puts two large fingers on your belly button. He presses them there.

You legs almost give out. "Huh?" You stutter.

He looks at you, unwavering, he presses his two fingers against you rougher.

"To here?" You mumble.

"Two what?" He giggles.

"Two- To? Here... O-Oh god."

🐍🐋🦈🛋

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down.

Word count: less than 2K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts. Part II is already in the queue and will be posted on Friday, 10/11.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, Bucky the player, wild thoughts, kisses on the hand and the cheek. No sex!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

"Won't see it coming when it happens. But when it happens you're gonna feel it, let me tell you now."

Bucky always scoffed at Steve’s advice. He and Sam never understood his solitary bachelorhood and his one night stand lifestyle.

The truth was, he hadn’t met anyone who held his interest enough to warrant a second date, much less anything beyond one casual hookup. So, he never made promises that he couldn’t keep, and most women said they were down for that. 

Even if they were lying to themselves.

At 42, James Buchanan Barnes was too dedicated to his business, ostensibly as an art dealer, for a serious relationship. The truth was that he dealt in many things, and that was why his business needed so much attention. 

His life and everyone’s around him depended on it. 

Bucky Barnes wasn’t going to get caught slipping.

In love or in business.

—---

The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, on what you thought would be a random Monday afternoon, he appraised you in a way that shook you to the core, those ocean blue eyes looking into your soul. You felt as if he were evaluating a piece of art as he gazed at you across his desk. 

You couldn’t know that he felt the exact same way. 

His eyes never strayed from your face as he shook your hand, but he’d noticed every bit of you as you entered his gallery, Rebirth. You were more stunning than any piece of art that he’d ever curated in the space.

While nothing like his normal type, you made Bucky feel as if he’d been so wrong about so much in his life the moment you entered his orbit. He had to get to know you to find what he’d been missing.

This afternoon you were a sight to behold and serving body. Although you were covered from neck to shin in an elegant sheath dress, the high, wrapped waist was giving all of your bounteous curves up to whoever glanced at you. And you had heads turning.

Steve, Sam, and even Natasha craned their necks to watch you as you entered Bucky’s office. And he could have sworn that Nat’s neck was at a 90 degree angle as she watched you leave her desk just outside his door.

You were fine as hell.

Bucky was entranced by dreams of handling your curves and making you smile at him forever.

As Bucky dreamed, you admired the man in front of you. Tall, dark, and handsome, Barnes wasn’t a young man, but the gray in his beard and the crinkles around his eyes made him that much more attractive. 

Even more attractive than in the paparazzi pics of him with various young models and actresses of the moment, waifs and ingénues with whom he was never photographed twice.

You just knew you were safe from any advances from him.

You thought.

“Enchanté, Ms. Y/LN. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Bucky lowered his head as he greeted you, a slight bow and extended his hand to his desk. You noticed the tattoo that started on his hand and seemed to go up his sleeve and went in the direction he pointed.

"You know, you are quite tenacious. I don’t take many meetings with potential buyers. But all of my people told me that I should.”

The silk of his voice, the unexpected tenor of it, and the way he took your hand made you shiver at the aura of experience that he gave off.

The word Daddy floated around in your mind for a moment until he invited you to sit.

You had to concentrate on the business at hand, that of negotiating for a piece of art for the Art and Culture Center in Brownsville, of which you were the director. The purchase was made possible by benefactors to commemorate a deceased Brownsville artist who became famous, then forgotten, during the Harlem Renaissance.

“You’ve made it past Ms. Romanoff, my gallerist, Mr. Wilson, my business manager, and Mr. Rogers, my gallery director, Ms. Y/LN. What makes you think that I’m going to give you a different answer? Letting that piece go for the price you’ve proposed is not a good business move.”

“You can’t afford to miss out on this opportunity, Mr. Barnes. Yes, you will be taking a loss on the artwork, but you will be on the ground floor of a major rediscovery. You will be known as one of the few who helped to resurrect the brilliance of the artist Howard Benson. You can be the Alice Walker to his Zora Neale Hurston.”

And that is when Bucky leaned back in his chair, astounded at your shrewd calculation.

“I love the way your mind works, Ms. Y/LN.”

You smiled and settled back into your chair, causing Bucky to shift in his chair. He wanted to be buried in you. He appraised and decided that he liked the pout that changed your lips almost as much as the smile that initially greeted him when he replied, “But that price is still unacceptable.”

You raised an adorable eyebrow at him and rose to the challenge that he lay at your feet ready to tangle with the inimitable James Barnes. The conversation stretched from early afternoon to dinner time, making you suspect that Barnes was drawing it out for some reason. You matched him, point for point, until it was dark. But he yielded no ground.

The conversation was intellectual foreplay: art history, sociology, american politics. And it was the most stimulated you’d been in a while. 

You could do this all night.

Your phone buzzed and you looked down. There were several text messages and emails lighting up your screen. You’d been in deep with Barnes for hours. It was after 6 pm. It seemed like only minutes. You noticed that it was only you and Bucky left in the gallery and rose to excuse yourself, albeit reluctantly.

“Oh! I’m sorry to keep you so long. I’m sure that you must have plans.”

You’d done your research and you knew that there was probably someone little more than half Barnes’ age waiting for him. When you searched social media, there was a sighting or spotted every month or so of Bucky and a young, beautiful woman.

You reached for your coat, but Bucky was behind you in seconds, taking it from you and helping you put it on. You shivered at his breath at your throat and his hands on your collarbone as he draped the lapels over your neck. His deep chuckle made your stomach flip. He saw right through you.

“No one is waiting for me but my cat, Alpine. How about you, Ms. YLN? Anyone waiting for you in Brownsville?”

“Not tonight. No.”

Why in the world were you doing the sultry whisper thing? This man didn’t want you. 

Did he?

You cleared your throat and you felt dizzy when you looked up and saw how close he was standing to you. Those eyes and the smile that graced his handsome face had you warm, but the way he licked his lips had you spiraling.

Bucky pushed down a mild sense of panic that someone might be expecting you some other night, but that was irrational. Competition never ever entered his mind when he talked to other women. 

What was happening here?

“Well I would consider myself extremely fortunate and would be honored if we could continue this conversation over dinner.”

—-

The way James Barnes turned your meeting into a dinner date had your head spinning, but the wonderful conversation and easy, light hearted banter eased your mind. As soon as the first course was served at your table at dinner at Bohemian, he agreed to your initial price.

From there, once the terms were settled, the conversation turned to more personal questions, each of you sharing the stories of your life in your town, his childhood in Romania, your childhood in Brooklyn, and lots of funny stories.

At one point early in the night, Bucky stopped you from calling him Mr. Barnes.

“Please. Call me James. Or you could call me Bucky. My Friends call me Bucky. For my middle name, Buchanan. Bucky is short for Buchanan.”

Bucky found himself rambling. He had not been this nervous in a while.

You looked at him quizzically. At that moment, he would give you anything you were about to ask of him.

“Do you have a lot of friends? I mean, do a lot of people call you Bucky?“

Godamn, the husk in your voice, those lips, those eyes. Everything about you was about to set him on fire.

“I have a few who are in my close circle. Natasha, Steve, Sam. They and a very few others call me Bucky. Most people I speak with call me Mr. Barnes...”

You nodded slowly, licking your lips, making Bucky feel it in his cock.

“Then I will call you James.”

He got your subtle meaning. You wanted to be different. 

And you were. So very different.

After almost five hours of the best conversation and laughter, he proposed another time for you two to meet before the week was up, on Friday. He had made it clear at dinner that now that business was concluded that he wanted to spend time with you.

Friday night would be a date, the second one at his insistence.

You debated that fact as his driver took you home, even up until he walked you to the door of your brownstone.

He leaned against your doorframe and checked you out as you retrieved your keys from your purse. When you turned and caught him looking, you gasped, causing him to straighten up and move toward you, eyes dilated.

“It will be our second date,” you conceded.

Bucky’s mouth curled into a smirk as he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his mouth. Your soul burned as he pressed his lips to your palm. It was like the hint of a drug in your veins and you wanted so much more.

“What made you change your mind?”

That voice. Did you have a voice kink? Good lord.

You flushed, both at the images that were racing through your mind, and at the arbitrary three date rule you’d made up a while ago. Why was that again?

You cleared your throat.

“Because of the way you are looking at me, James. And the fact that you just kissed me.”

“Is this a kiss?”

“Ummhmmmm.”

You hummed as Bucky raised his eyebrow and your hand again. This time, he brushed his lips against your wrist and inhaled the perfume lingering there. You were about to melt.

Bucky didn’t even know what he was doing. The next step in his mind was to open his mouth and consume you, but he opened his eyes and spied you looking at him in that way, and he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want this to be like all of his other conquests.

He straightened up, but didn’t let go of your hand, entangling your fingers together. 

“You are correct, Y/N. In my mind, this is a date. I am interested in you, for more than just your taste in art. I hope that this is the first date of many.”

You were bowled over at his straightforwardness. It was not what you were used to. This was a man, not a boy in mens clothing.

“I appreciate your honesty, James.”

You went on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering on the black and grey stubble so close to his lips. You turned around, giving him a view of your backside as you opened your door.

“And your ambition.”

You gave him that smile again with a wink, and your “Goodnight, James,” floated up to him on cloud nine.

——-

Let me know if you liked it!

Part II here.

[zevrra]

never forget—

synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!

tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.

“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.

[chachavroomvroom]

2023’s Top Ten Chaotic Moments of the F1 Season (in no particular order)

The De Vries ➡️ Ricciardo ➡️ Lawson ➡️ Ricciardo musical chairs

The Mclaren boys getting their laptimes deleted live on camera post Qatar Quali under the befuddled eyes of George Russell 🧍‍♂️

George’s T-pose, Estie’s slayful catwalk and Charles’ soulful longing look in the F1 intro 💃

Charles’ triple threat of DNF/DNS/DSQ in one season 🥲

Several broken trophies this year (starting with the one Lando sent to the shadow realms with his champagne pop) 🍾

Max smacking that RBR sticker on Charles, shaking him around and then turning to the camera like 😀

Mika Häkkinen’s gift of prophecy: the man said McLaren would suddenly become competitive and we laughed at him 👁️

The stressed pairs of Merc/Ferrari guys being summoned to the stewards about the planks in Austin and showing up with the power of a piece of paper and a vape 💨

So many inter-teams padel dates?? 🎾

Perez’s Japan run: crashed, changed wing, got a penalty, crashed again, changed wing again, retired, unretired, served his penalty and retired again 🪦

Honourable mentions 🥈 :

Carlos illegitimate child rumour one hot afternoon on f1twt

Dany Ric sniped by that flying tyre in lap 1 of Brazil despite not being involved in the accident

Vegas Hunger Games opening ceremony

Seb’s bee corner

1644 mood collaborative insta post after joint DSQ in COTA

A lot of James Vowles thirst on the TL

Charles Leclerc, known non-believer, plans a pilgrimage to Lourdes to get rid of his curse

Lance falling off wet stairs

Nando being a tik tok celebrity

Dishonourable mentions :

Qatar heat

Vegas drain cover

Piastri being a punching bag on wheels for other drivers for a few races straight

[party-snake]

First-aid

Sebastian x Fem! Reader

I highly suggest you play Pressure before reading this.

While hiding from Pandemonium, you get pretty scratched up. Sebastian patches you up.

Tw: Fear, blood, Near death experience, Almost fainting, Slightly suggestive(?), Praise

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

"Good, more data for Sebastian." You smile, picking up the files and putting them in the pouch he gave you. Peeking in the last desk drawer, you take the last usb drive you can find. "Okay, door 49. I hope Sebastian is around." Heat slow creeps to your face as you think of the sassy fish. 895 data sounds like just enough for a flashlight and a few other things.

You giggle lightly and walk towards the door. It slides open and immediately the lights begin to flicker. Fear sinks into your heart with it's metal claws and you dash for the nearest locker. That noise of the lights triggers your fight of flight, having done this so many times. Waiting a bit for the Angler to come, your thoughts are interupted by an ear piercing screech.

Pandemonium's gaping mouth is visible from the other side of the room and you jump, opening the locker and slamming the doors shut. It's presence is immediately clear as it stares you down from just outside the locker. You hold the doors shut as it slams into the locker, desperately trying to get to you. The gross sounds of the decomposing monster just outside the metal walls almost makes you gag.

The only sound you can hear is your own heartbeat as it rams into the doors. You look down and gasp as part of the locker has bent in on itself. 'Shit.' You mentally curse, knowing you only have seconds before the locker comes apart from the stress. It's eyes pierce into your soul, death staring you directly in the face.

Part of the metal comes apart, slicing into your right leg. Screaming bloody murder as the metal cuts through your leg like a knife through butter. The creature growls and gives up, leaving you bloody and sweaty. Your vision goes spotty as your arms release their death grip on the handles.

You start falling forward, the locker door swinging open. The concrete floor does nothing to cushion your fall as you make contact with it's cold embrace. Your arm takes the brunt of the fall and you groan in pain, flipping over slightly to assess the damage.

The metal of the locker is curved inwards slightly, your blood still visable on it. Your uniform is ripped from the ankle to half way up your thigh. It had taken most of the damage, but it still hurt like hell. It was definitely going to leave a scar. One to add to the pile.

You shakely get up, using a desk to steady yourself. Accidentally putting pressure on the sliced leg, you whimper. '050' the next door reads. Your vision is spotty as you cover your eyes with one hand. Your brain must be tricking you into thinking those are the eyes of the Eyefestation.

You hobble your way to the door and it slides open. An industrial light points towards a vent and you breath a sigh of relief. It flings open and his deep voice calls out to you. "Got something for you. Come here." You chuckle and limp towards the vent, getting on your working three limbs and army crawling your way towards him.

Your head peeks out from the vent opening and his light flickers on. "I just knew it would be you. Welcome back hun." He chuckles, as arms swinging out dramatically before he clasps his hands in front of him. "Hi Seb." You smile. Continuing out of the vent, your leg dragging behind you. "Woah, what happened there?" He gasps. "Um, Pandemonium." You put a hand behind your head.

"Now that won't do." He leans down and picks a first aid kit off the table. "Sit down right there. Don't move." Confusion is written all over your face as you do as your told, sitting down and trying not to put any unnecessary pressure on your leg. He flops down infront of you, one arm holding him up, the other holding the first aid kit. "Poor thing. You must've been so scared."

His hand comes up and caresses your cheek. You lean into it and sigh, nodding silently. His other arm lifts him up, wrapping around your waist and taking him with you. "You're extremely lucky I was right here." He chides, though his tone holds no actual venom. He sighs and leans back, placing you on his tail. You look back and notice his whale end blocking the vent entrance.

"Let me see that leg sweetheart." Leaning back, trying your best to lift it up, he gently grasps it in his clawed hand. His other hand trails up your leg and comes to the top of your pants. A small gasp escapes your lips and you whimper.

"Such a pretty noise. Can I take these off darling?" His voice is low and seductive, teasing, almost. Your cheeks flare up and you nod. "Good girl." He goes slow, taking off the pant leg on your non-injured side before switching to the next. As he begins peeling it off your leg you whine.

The tight swim suit rubs against your cut and you bite your tongue to avoid crying out. "Almost done love. Such a good girl." You look away, trying not to focus on his words. That proves difficult though. He pulls it the rest of the way off and discardes it beside him. "So. How did it cut you this badly?" He lifts your leg up slightly, investigating the cut. "The locker I was hiding in was broken a little bit. The metal cut me."

He tsks. "You should be a little more observant next time, you could be infected." He grabs the bottle of alcohol and applies it on a pad, wiping your cut. It stings, but not to badly. Must be the adrenaline. The guaze comes next, his hands wrapping them around the cut. Spots of blood peek through the gauze and he secures it with medical tape.

"There you go." He sets your leg down and you straddle his tail. "Thanks Seb. How much will that be?" You giggle. "Hm. 1,000 data." You laugh. "That's funny Seb." His hands wrap around your waist. "Oh no. I wasn't joking." Your giggles die out and you stare up at him. "Really?" His eyes are serious as he smiles down at you. "Really." You stare down. "I don't have-" His laughs cut you off.

"Come on love, you'd really think i'd charge you for that?" He wipes and imaginary tear and you flush with embarrassment. "I-I should get going." You say, and he hums. "Nope. You're not going anywhere." You huff. "But the crystal-" He silences you with a kiss. "The crystal can wait my love. You need rest." He booped your nose.

You looked away and thought for a moment. "Alright. But only for a few minutes." He nods and you lay down on his chest. Your eyes flutter shut as his voice lulls you to sleep. "Sweet dreams hun."

I decided to make another one sense you guys really loved the last one I made. The next one will be smut for you horny people. Stay tuned...

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 34

summary: It’s time to celebrate your nuptials with your friends and family, where they’ll witness some of your firsts as husband and wife—first dinner, first dance. Hopefully, they won’t notice your first time sneaking away to fool around. 

rating: E (18+!! This is very horny. No y/n, alternating POV, explicit smut, age gap (about ten years), two extremely horny newlyweds, Husband Javier Peña, sneaking around, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, vaginal fingering, car sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, wedding ring kink, getting cockblocked (multiple times), singing “Lay All Your Love On Me” by ABBA as foreplay, oral sex mention (f receiving), accidental voyeurism | overheard spit kink, overheard degradation, overheard mention of choking (spoiler - it’s Robyn and Seb fucking) | feelings, first dance, second dance, father-daughter dance, Javier being so in love, body insecurity, anxiety, Javier being cute with kids, Chucho wanting to be an abuelo so bad, Javier going into protector mode (with a gun), special appearances by Daphne and Velma)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 24k

a/n: I apologize for how long this took, but I’m happy to finally share it with you! There’s a lot of music referenced in this chapter, and instead of listing out each song, I’ve made a playlist of ALL the music mentioned in the wedding chapters. Huge shoutouts to @devineconjuring and @kilamonster for betaing! You are lifesavers!!

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

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It was strange. 

The man you married was a bit of a local celebrity, known by everyone in Laredo for the good and bad things he’d done in his past. With the town’s obsession with him came their intrusive interest in his personal life, which led to fascination when the chronic bachelor began dating you. It was a regular occurrence to be gawked at or to hear hushed whispers and constantly find yourselves as the subject of town gossip. Yet, all of that attention never bothered you—it was annoying, for sure, but it never made you nervous being in the spotlight as the other half of Laredo’s most talked-about couple. Frankly, you ignored it all and went on living your best life with the man you loved.

The thing you found strange was, that attention out in public from strangers? Not a problem. But when you were the center of attention amongst your friends and family on the happiest day of your life? Apparently, it was anxiety-inducing.

Why? If you had to guess, it was probably them seeing you so vulnerable—you weren’t masking what you were feeling; those at the ceremony watched you cry and heard you bare your soul to the love of your life. Now, everyone here was going to witness the first hours of your marriage: your first meal as husband and wife, your first dance, the two of you being so sickeningly in love that at some point tonight, your best friend Robyn will fake gag and call you both disgusting even though she was a hypocrite who had it just as bad for her boyfriend. 

You weren’t nervous when you first got to Chucho’s to fix your makeup—the nerves hit when you saw the almost ninety people under the tent, and you thought about all the eyes that’d be on the two of you basking in your newlywed bliss.

And Javi knew you so well, he clocked your anxiety practically right out of the gate—he didn’t miss a beat giving you the reassurance you needed that you looked fine, he didn’t complain when you busied yourself with fussing over him to get your mind off the crowd, and he distracted you with his sweet singing and loving words. You had to admit, he was knocking this whole husband thing out of the park.

He had calmed you down, and knowing he would be with you every step of the way made it easier to walk to your table and made the attention much more bearable. 

The clapping continued with the occasional whoop and holler, your entrance music still playing in the background, and the excitement was palpable. When it hit you that this tent full of people supported your relationship and were genuinely happy about your marriage, it choked you up, and it took everything in you to hold back your tears. 

These were your real family and friends. 

Javi’s lips were still at your ear after offering you an escape if you needed it, and you kissed his cheek, resting your hand on his bicep—emotion had your words coming out thick when you said for only him to hear, “I love you too, and thank you, babe. I’m so fucking happy we’re married; you’re literally the best husband in the entire universe.” 

He was smiling when he straightened to meet your gaze, his large hands rubbing along your bare arms. “I’m really fucking happy we’re married, too. This is the greatest day of my life, and I’m so lucky ‘cause you’re the best wife in the entire goddamn universe.”

His response made you grin, circling your arms behind his neck, but he caught you off guard when you went in for a kiss—he pulled you into him, his arm around your torso like a band of steel, and as your lips met, he turned you, dipping you back while you kissed, his mouth swallowing your surprised sound. 

There was an uptick in noise the first time you locked lips, but this time? It was downright thunderous with the combination of applause, whistling, and cheers; so many people were taking pictures that you’d think strobe lights were turned on from all of the bright flashes of light. 

You held onto him for dear life as your mouths melded together, questioning in your head if his other hand on your ass was actually for support or if he was just copping a feel; it didn’t matter, though, because as quickly as he tipped you back, he was raising you, your lips separating for only a second to have you standing in front of him again and then he kiss kissed you. 

It was one of those kisses that made your toes curl and your head go dizzy. Everything around you faded away until all that remained was you and Javi—nothing else existed except him. As he held you close, hugging you to his body, your lips touching and tongues intertwined, you ceased being two separate people and became one—one heart, one soul, one future. There was no you and him; it was you both together from this day until the end of time.

Unfortunately, the kiss had to come to an end, and you chased his lips when he broke away from you—Javier chuckled, the sound warm to your ears, and you smiled when he pecked the tip of your nose, then nuzzled it with his own, those baseball mitts he called hands holding your upper arms. 

"I love you," he said. 

"I love you, too." 

You could feel the air move as he pulled back. 

"You ready to sit down?" 

Your eyes blinked open to find his tender gaze on you with a sweet smile beneath his perfect mustache. 

“That’s probably a good idea; you have me feeling a little wobbly after that kiss.” You winked. 

He smiled, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “Of course, mi amor.” He moved around you to pull out your seat, and you sat down, Javi pushing you in. He took the chair beside yours, and the moment he was seated, he made you giggle as he scooted, chair and all, closer to you until he was right against your side, his arm going over your shoulders—you were each drawn to the other, leaning into him as he leaned into you, looking at one another with smiles, sitting in your little bubble. 

The sound had died down, and the music had ended. Diego spoke through the microphone, reading from a piece of paper, “Los novios quieren agradecer a todos los presentes por compartir este día tan especial con ellos y quieren agradecer especialmente al padre de Javier, Chucho, y a sus tías, María, Rebeca, y Lupita por toda su ayuda para organizar esta increíble fiesta. (The bride and groom would like to thank everyone present for sharing this special day with them, and especially want to thank Javier’s father, Chucho, and his aunts María, Rebeca, and Lupita for all their help organizing this incredible party). ¡Démosles un aplauso (Let’s give them a round of applause)!”

Everyone, including the two of you, clapped. 

When you went to dinner with Chucho on Javi’s birthday and told him your wedding plans, your father-in-law insisted on paying for everything, which you both declined right away. This led to a bit of a heated argument in Spanish between your husband and his dad, where you discovered that in their culture, traditionally, the groom’s family paid for the wedding since he was the one to propose. 

The only way Javi could placate his dad and later his tías, who were also gung-ho about paying for everything, was to let them all plan and put the event together on your dime—which was a great idea, given how perfectly it turned out. 

“Y ahora (And now),” Diego continued, “es el momento de comer—for the English speakers in the house, that means it’s time to eat!” 

The food was set up buffet style on the opposite side of the room, and people started getting up. With everything going on, your only meal all day had been breakfast that morning with your father-in-law. The rest of the time, you snacked and sampled the dishes being served; now that you were thinking about it, you realized you were hungry, your stomach growling in confirmation. 

When you tried to push back your chair, Javi stopped you, and you looked at him confused. “Don’t get up,” he said. “I’ll get you food, mi amor.” 

“I’m capable of getting my own food.” 

“I want to get you food.”

An exasperated breath left you. “Fine. Thank you.” At your acquiesce, he smiled and quickly kissed you before getting up and heading across the room. 

It was odd sitting at the table alone, and you took a second to see who all was here. Chucho and his sisters were the first to fill their plates because they were guests of honor. Almost all of Javi’s cousins were here, and a majority of the men were staying at their tables with their kids while their wives went to get food, including Danny, who had his toddler daughter, Sofia, in his lap and his four-year-old son in the chair beside him, their six-months pregnant mother standing in line. 

The Murphys were over there, Connie carrying Nate on her hip and strategically holding a plate; Stevie stood between her and Steve, the father getting food for himself and his son, and Olivia was ahead of them all serving herself. Sebastián was taking a much-deserved break from recording, standing in line behind Robyn with his arms wrapped around her middle and whispering something in her ear that had her flushing and giggling. 

You spotted your other friends from work, Gil and Luis, the latter coming with his wife Cat and their four kids, all under twelve. Javi’s old friends from high school, Anna, Benito, and Ken, were here with their families—Anna did all of the baked desserts. There was the family that ran El Mercadito, all five members present, and Sheriff Arturo with his wife. His and Javi’s assistant, Joy, was here, too, and she brought her roommate, a lovely girl named Jamie who drove a Subaru—something rare in Texas—and was wearing a stylish pantsuit with a shirt that complemented the color of Joy’s dress; they were such cute best friends. 

People were patting Javi on his back and congratulating him, seeing his bright grin each time he looked back at you as he made his way to the opposite side of the room. You watched him beelining toward his tías and father, who were at the end of the buffet with their plates full of food, to speak to his tía María for just a moment; whatever she said made him chuckle and kiss her on the cheek. Then he walked to the back of the line, politely refusing anyone who told him to cut in front of them. He ended up between one of his tíos and Mrs. Pauletta Moore, who you first met at the Farmer’s Market when you started dating; every subsequent time you went to the market, you’d stop by her stall to chat because she was fun to talk to and you found it amusing that Javi got flustered when she inevitably brought up how handsome he was—you never made him suffer long, though. You always got him out of there after a minute. 

What she was saying right now made him blush and glance over at you from across the room every few seconds with a polite smile, his big brown eyes screaming, ‘Help Me.’

His gaze was locked on yours, his mouth moving as he spoke to the older woman.You started to get up to save him, but he slightly shook his head at you, and you frowned, sitting in your seat again. 

Things got better once it was his turn to get dinner. Minutes later, he returned to your table with two plates and immediately left to grab a couple of beers for you both. When he was finally back for good, he sat down and once again scooted himself as close to you as possible, his arm going over your shoulders again. 

When it came to choosing the food for tonight, you and Javi only had two requests: you wanted there to be little BLT finger sandwiches, made how you liked them—swap out the mayo for garlic aioli, use arugula instead of lettuce, and add avocado—since the tomato for a BLT is how you met; the second request was that they used his mother’s recipes, which his tías happily agreed to. 

The plate in front of you was loaded with a little of everything: a tiny BLT, three street tacos made with fresh, homemade tortillas, each filled with a different meat—Al Pastor, barbacoa, and carne asada—roasted pig, chiles rellenos, enchiladas mole, elote, a mini queso Oaxaca quesadilla, spicy rice, beans, a few extra tortillas, and some homemade salsas in little plastic cups.

“Thank you,” you told him, pecking him on the cheek. 

His head turned to press his lips to yours, and he smiled into the kiss. “You’re welcome—I love you, my wife.”

You matched his expression. “I love you, too, my amazing husband. God, I love calling you that.” Your mouth left his, and you looked at him, his eyes on yours. “Can you believe we’re married?” 

His free hand reached to grab your left, lifting it to kiss your rings. “I keep looking at my ring to make sure it really happened.” A happy sigh left him, and the expression on his face showed how much he loved you, the intensity of it making you go so soft there was a chance you’d melt like ice cream in the hot sun. “You’re my wife,” he said. “I have a wife. I’m your husband. And, shit, last week was our first shot at making a baby. I’m already on cloud nine, but imagine if we were successful.” He let go of your hand to put his palm on your stomach, and your heart squeezed at how excited he was about being married and potentially having a child—you really hit the husband jackpot. Javi kept speaking, “We could have a baby by the end of the year. Even if it doesn’t happen, this has been the best year of my entire fucking life because you married me.” 

“Oh, Javi.” Your upper body twisted in his direction as your hands gently held his face, pulling him in to crush your lips to his, wanting him to feel your happiness, your love, and your hope that he was right about the addition of a tiny Peña by the end of the year. You agreed that even if a baby wasn’t in the cards for 1999, this had also been the best year of your entire fucking life because he married you. 

When you broke the kiss, Javi’s cheeks were tinted pink, and he was smiling so big, his dimple was showing. After exchanging ‘I love yous’ once more, you both dug into your plates. 

As expected, the food was incredible, and there was no way you’d be able to finish the plate, but you tried a little of everything, loving it all.

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you ate, and once the hunger in your belly subsided, you wiped your mouth with your napkin and asked, “What was Mrs. Moore saying that was making you uncomfy?” 

He groaned around a bite, and as soon as he swallowed, he avoided looking at you, using his own napkin to clean his mouth. He answered, “She went on and on and on about how fantastic I looked and told me that if she were your age, she also would’ve snatched me up and married me as quickly as you did after the engagement.”

You giggled. “I’m sorry. I know you hate when she talks about how handsome you are.” 

He sighed. “It’s fine, and I corrected her that I was the impatient one who wanted to get married so quickly.” He looked over at you and smiled. “She also congratulated us and said we’re a great match and a wonderful couple. She’s loved seeing our relationship grow and can’t wait for us to have kids, which she says will happen sooner rather than later.” 

“‘Cause you’re such a hunk, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you?” You gently knocked your shoulder against his. 

“With how you can’t keep your hands off of me? Apparently, I’m the biggest hunk in the entire fucking world.” 

“Wow, your ego has been fed way too much today.” 

He laughed and kissed your cheek. You felt his hot breath as he whispered in your ear, “Nothing to do with my ego, Cielito. I’m stating the truth; you can’t keep your hands off me, and you know what? I can’t keep my hands off you—when she said we’d have kids sooner rather than later, I agreed because it is my fucking mission to get you pregnant.”

Something about his determination had arousal igniting in your gut. 

“Why do I find that so sexy?” 

He kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you trembled. “Because you married a hunk who can’t keep his hands off you.” 

You giggled, turning your head to kiss him. “I married a ridiculous man,” you said into his lips, your eyes closing. 

His response was muffled. “A ridiculous man who loves you.” His lips left yours, and the tip of his nose nuzzled yours. “Mi amor?” he rasped. 

“Yes, husband?” 

His fingers slid along your thigh. “After the dances,” he said, “when they open the dance floor, sneak away with me to the laundry room—” It was at the end of the same hall the guest bedroom was down and secluded. “—I need you so fucking bad.” 

“After the dances, I have to change dresses...” 

“That’s not a no… Can I join you? Your clothes will already be off, and I can put you up on the bathroom counter or against it and slide right in. Imagine getting filled with your husband’s cock—the cock that belongs to you—and how it will stretch your perfect pussy—my wife’s pussy. We’d be quick; I’d fuck you hard and fast. I’ll probably have to cover your mouth to keep you quiet, and all of these people will have no fucking clue that while they’re drinking and dancing, my wife’s soaking my dick in her come, and I’m stuffing her full of me.” 

The proposition made you squirm in your seat and had your skin heating.  

Now that you were at the party, your nerves had settled, and his words had gotten to you—you did want him inside you, and god, to feel him stretch you open; the fingering in the truck was good, but nothing compared to how Javi fucked you, and the thought of doing it with so many people on the property had your inner exhibitionist frothing at the mouth. 

“Sold.” 

It was truly adorable how he giddily chuckled, then smothered the sound by kissing you, his hand leaving your thigh to press to your cheek. He’d been eating an Al Pastor taco before you interrupted him, the sweetness of pineapple and spiciness of chiles lingering on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, giving you another one of those toe-curling kisses that made your brain stop working—either you were just insanely horny for your husband and you couldn’t wait to be alone in a room with him, or some baser, primal instinct was telling you to go right that second to make a baby. 

There were wolf-whistles again, and you couldn’t make out what Olivia asked, but you sure heard her father’s answer. “If you must know,” Steve said, “yes, I do kiss your mother like that, but not in front of you or your brothers—those kinds of kisses are between two adults who love each other and should only happen in private.” The girl made another comment, and Steve replied, “Well, your tio loves your new tia very, very much, and getting married is one of the happiest days of someone’s life—they’re just so happy, and in love, they keep forgetting there’s an audience.” 

Your mouths separated, Javi pressing his forehead to yours as he sighed. He quietly said to you, “I’m aware there’s an audience, and I don’t give a fuck because we’re not doing anything inappropriate—it’s just kissing for Christ’s sake.”  

You pushed your fingers into the hair at the back of his head. “He’s being an overprotective dad. When we have kids, you’re definitely going to be overprotective, but not when it comes to affection because it’s normal for us to be all lovey-dovey—our babies will be used to their parents being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, they will.” 

His hair is soft to the touch, and you lovingly scratch your nails against his scalp. “Something that I love is that your parents shaped your view of what a healthy, loving marriage should be like, and we’re gonna do the same for our children, so when they’re all grown up, they’ll hopefully have something like us and their abuelos (grandparents).” 

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was frowning when he spoke. “I don’t want them to grow up… I want them to be my babies forever.” 

“Oh, babe.” You pecked his lips. “They’ll always be your babies, and this is a reminder that when we finally have one, we need to savor every moment because they're gonna grow so quickly, and I know you’ll hate that.” 

Seconds passed, and he didn’t speak, which meant he was in his head, thinking deeply about something. You pulled back to look at his face, his eyes closed, his eyebrows cinched together, and you stroked your fingers along his cheek. 

“Where’d you go?” you softly asked him. 

He blinked open his eyes. “Nowhere,” he answered, turning his head to kiss your palm. 

“Are you okay?” 

He gave you a little smile. “I’m fucking amazing.” 

“Good.” 

“¡Bien, todos (Okay, everyone),” Diego announced, “démosle la bienvenida a la pista de baile los novios para su primer baile (Let’s welcome the bride and groom to the dance floor for their first dance)!” 

Applause sounded, and Javi got up from the table first, offering a hand that you took to rise, and he led you out onto the dance floor. The intro for “I’ve Been Waiting for You” by ABBA began, the soft hum of a synthesizer sounding as Agnetha Fältskog sang with feeling about how she never thought she’d love again, but the right person has come along now and brought back the feeling.  

It wasn’t hard to figure out what Javi was thinking with how intensely he looked upon you; his loving gaze burned as it met yours, his close-lipped smile beneath his perfectly trimmed mustache making the edges of his eyes crinkle, and there was not a single doubt that it was you on his mind, consuming all of his thoughts. Before he pulled you close by your hand in his, he took you in, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip as his gaze trailed up your body appreciatively. When his chocolate-colored eyes locked onto yours, his love for you was evident, but so was his desire—he clearly wanted you, and it made heat creep up your neck. 

His free hand found its home on your waist, or more accurately, the top of your ass where it met your waist, while your own held onto the back of one of his broad shoulders, and you danced as you had so many times before in the kitchen as you cooked together; the familiarity of the steps, Javi guiding you as you swayed to the music, eyes on each other and only each other, the rest of the world disappearing. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said for just your ears. 

All you could see was the truth on his face, and it made you smile. You replied just as softly, “Thank you. You’re so fucking handsome—ten out of ten, would bang.” You winked, and he chuckled, the two of you slowly moving to the song. 

“You know how much I love you in that dress, but I can’t wait to get you out of it.” 

“A few more songs, and you’ll get to.” 

He grinned, his dimple appearing. “I really fucking love you.” 

“I really fucking love you, too.” 

The song’s chorus played:

“You thrill me, you delight me You please me, you excite me You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more And finally, it seems my lonely days are through I've been waiting for you.”

He pulled you close enough to touch his forehead to yours gently, his hand holding your smaller one against his chest over his heart. He was gazing lovingly into your eyes, softly smiling. 

“I gotta say, this is a good song choice,” he told you. 

When the discussion about music for today came up, immediately, this was the song that came to mind for your first dance—it was about thinking love would never happen, then the surprise at finding it, and the overwhelming feelings that come with finally having it after longing for so long; the immense adoration, and deep commitment, it being so unexpected that it felt like destiny, ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ It captured the essence of your relationship with Javi perfectly, and it made you happy that after playing it for him, he agreed—he’d never heard it before and thought, by the end, it fit well, too. 

He also sought your approval for his song choice that you walked down the aisle to, except his pitch was having you listen to all of side one of his Fleetwood Mac Rumours record that “Songbird” was the last track on… In bed… While making out through the first five songs leading up to it. Apparently, in college, he’d invite girls to his dorm room to ‘listen to a record with him’—not always Fleetwood Mac—and they’d fool around. Another discovery you made was that side two of Rumours was the one he fucked to since it was the longer of the two sides, running just shy of twenty minutes. Yes, your husband had a system where he dedicated the first side of a record to foreplay, then the second for the main event. 

“Right?” you responded to his comment. “The devotion and being all in—it’s so us.” 

The song continued, and Javi moved his head beside yours to quietly sing along to a few verses in your ear when the chorus played again:

“You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more.”

It had you sucking in a breath, your eyes rounding because you were under the impression the one and only time he listened to this track was when you introduced him to it. 

You leaned back to see his face. “Wait, how do you know the lyrics?” you asked. 

His eyebrow raised, giving you a look like it was obvious. “Cielito, you chose this for our first dance,” he said. “Of course, I listened to it a handful of times after you showed me it-—it’s a pretty song and perfect.” 

Tears were starting to blur your vision at how sweet that was. 

“You love ABBA.”

He huffed in amusement. “My wife loves ABBA, and if she loves them, then I love them, too.”

“Uh-huh, right—we’re married, babe. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re too cool to love them.”

He sighed. “Their shit is just so catchy.”

His admission had you smiling. “Finally, you admit it. God, I really fucking love you.” 

He gave you another dimpled smile. “I really fucking love you, too.” He moved to have your temples touching as you swayed. “I wanna tell you something.” 

With the music so loud and the two of you staying in the middle of the dance floor, you doubted anyone would be able to hear your hushed conversation. He was still slowly leading you around; talking and dancing was something you were both used to.

“Okay.” 

“When I finally came home to Laredo for good, it’d fucking get to me seeing all the pictures of how happy my parents were or listening to my dad talk so fondly about my mom. Hearing and seeing how much they loved each other killed me because I’d never have anything like what they had. Then you came along and, Jesus Christ, am I so fucking thankful you came along—” The relief was evident in his voice. “—because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’ve given me the life I always dreamed about, and more. So, you are something I’d been pleading for; I love you, I adore you, and you know I lay my life before you—it’s yours, it’ll always be yours, and I’m gonna do my damndest to make you want me more.” You could hear his smile. “I’ll have to up the hunkiness.” 

You laughed, continuing to dance with him. “I don’t think you can get any hunkier.” 

“I think I can.” His cheek touched yours to whisper in your ear, feeling the hot breath of his words, “Like how after the dances, I’m dragging your ass to the bedroom, getting you naked, and I wanna bury my face in your pussy.” You gasped. “I know you want me to eat it, and I’m fucking dying to taste my wife. I’ll get you off with my mouth and the fingers you love. Then I’m pressing you back against the wall—I know I said bathroom counter earlier, but I need to kiss you—so, your back is getting pressed against the wall, and you're gonna taste yourself on my tongue while I fuck you hard and fast. I’ll keep you quiet so nobody knows you’re getting your husband’s good dick, and when I come inside you, you’re gonna keep it all in for the rest of the night because you know if you’re my good girl, I’m gonna give you anything you want when we get home.” 

“Javier,” you breathed. He had your skin feeling hot and your heartbeat thudding between your legs, so unbelievably turned on by what he said. You had to clear your throat and say, “Sir, the way you’re making my pussy throb—I am so upset that I can’t drag your ass to the bedroom right this second to have my way with you.”

“Yeah?” He kissed your cheek. “I’ll make you feel good the first chance I get, and fuck, I can’t wait to get you home so that I can take my time. Quiero hacerte el amor (I want to make love to you). Quiero dártelo despacito y hacer temblar tus piernas (I want to give it to you slowly and make your legs shake). Quiero oírte gritar mi nombre decirme lo bien que te estoy chingado (I want to hear you scream my name and tell me how good I’m fucking you).” 

“Okay, okay, okay, you are the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk, and I’m gonna need you to tone it down because I am extremely horny and so close to saying fuck it and running away with you while everyone watches.”  

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. ��I’m sorry for getting you worked up, mi amor.” 

“That’s a dirty fucking lie, and you know it.” 

With your bodies pressed together, you felt the rumble of his chuckle as the song came to an end. The two of you slowed to a stop naturally, and Javi straightened in front of you, looking at you once more; he was just as affected by the things he said if his darkened eyes and the pretty pink flush painted across his cheeks were anything to go by—and maybe it was his sultry words, or his sweet confession, or simply that his plush mouth looked so kissable, whatever it was had you gripping the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, and tugging him to you to smash your lips against his, kissing him. His arms wrapped around you, one hand anchored at the back of your head, the other squeezing your ass, your mouths passionately fused together, turning your body to putty and your brain to mush as you melted into him. 

During his vows, Javi said his life didn’t begin until the moment he met you, and you understood exactly what he meant—what felt like so long ago, yet was only mere months, he entered your sphere, and suddenly, you felt alive; he made you feel alive. He was the sun shining after a gloomy, rainy day. He was the spring blooms after a frigid, snowy winter. He brought life to your world, love, and made everything better, and now he promised you his forever, sealing that commitment with the gold band on your finger. 

He was yours, completely, always yours, and you were his. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you heard a single thing Diego was announcing over the speakers. “La siguiente canción es una petición especial del novio (This next song is a special request from the groom). Mrs. Peña, Javi quiere dejarte saber que él siempre será tu pez (Mrs. Peña, Javi wants you to know that he will always be your fish).” 

That had you abruptly ending the kiss, Javi’s mouth chasing yours. You pressed a hand to the center of his chest to hold him back. 

“What song?” you asked him. “What does it mean that you’ll always be my fish…?”

His eyes opened to look at her, and he smiled, engulfing her hand on him with his larger one to hold over where she had to feel the thud of his heartbeat, his other resting just below her waistline on her ass, loving how soft her dress was under his fingers. He didn’t get a chance to answer because Diego started the song, and he knew she recognized it immediately from the familiar piano and twang of an acoustic guitar filling the air, followed by bongos and a man singing the opening line:

“Tengo un corazón…” 

She started laughing, and warmth spread through him at how delighted she was. 

“Burbujas de Amor” by Juan Luis Guerra was one of their favorite songs that played on the Spanish radio station they liked to listen to as they cooked. It had a good danceable beat while also being a romantic ballad, and the lyrics were… Interesting. The first time his wife heard it was early on in their relationship while they were making lunch together; she couldn’t believe what was being sung to the point she kept double-checking with him that what she was translating in her head was correct. 

“Wait, did he just say he wants to be a fish so he can touch her fish tank with his nose…?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“I didn’t understand the next line.” 

“Y hacer burbujas de amor por dondequiera—and make love bubbles everywhere.” 

“And then he really sings that he wants to stay up all night, soaked in her?”

“Yeah, and it makes sense to me ‘cause I wanna stay up all night soaked in you.” 

She grinned. “You want to be the fish to my fish tank.” 

“Quiero ser tu pez, quiero ser tu novio, quiero ser tu todo (I want to be your fish, I want to be your boyfriend, I want to be your everything). Need me to translate?” 

“Nope, I understood you perfectly.” 

The ABBA song was their choice for the first dance, but when they were picking the music, she joked about how funny it’d be if they used “Burbujas de Amor.” It amused her so much that he thought it’d be fun to surprise her with it as their second dance song. 

“I can’t believe you requested this,” she said, clearly amused. 

“We love it—” He shrugged. “—and I wanted to dance with you to it.” He gave her hand a quick kiss before letting it go to do this thing she found sexy, where he kept his attention on her while undoing the buttons on his suit jacket one-handed. He continued speaking as it came undone, “Dance with me—really dance with me.” 

Javier loved the intimacy of slow dancing with her—the two of them close together in their own little world, swaying to the music and having an easy conversation; it was one of his favorite things to do. But there was nothing like giving in to the rhythm of some great music with someone you had a deep connection with, someone who loved you just as intensely as you loved them and shared in the intimate knowledge of how your bodies moved together. 

It was incredible.

Their connection made everything exhilarating, and it was the same with sex. Out of the many partners he’d had in the bedroom and out on the dance floor, nothing compared to doing either with his wife—she was hands down the best he’d ever had in bed or dancing. 

And to be completely honest, she wasn’t as good of a dancer as him—she was much better now than at the start of their relationship, and his toes were thankful for that; none of it mattered, though, because her confidence and willingness to even try, along with how fun she was, made up for her lack of skill. Plus, they had such great chemistry she did an excellent job of following his lead, which was the only time she let him be in control 100% of the time, every time. 

“Okay,” she replied, stepping into him and wrapping her arm around his neck. She held up her other hand that Javier happily took firmly into his much bigger one, holding her close, his knee slotting between both of hers and a second later, he was moving them to the beat, literally moving her where he wanted by her hand in his—backward, forward, a turn here, a turn there, his wife relaxed and dancing in sync with him, their hips shaking a bit with each step.  

Though they usually danced like this to cumbia music, he thought it was the best choice for this situation since he’d do all the work while she followed, because he knew, even if she was hiding it, that she worried about fucking up in front of everyone. Like this, he had complete control of them—how fast they went, where they were going; he was so in tune with her, so familiar with how she moved, they were dancing so seamlessly and effortlessly like it was a choreographed number they’d rehearsed a hundred times before.

He loved her giggles when he twirled them around, and he couldn’t stop smiling at how good it felt to move them to the music with hardly any thought or care aside from keeping them stepping to the rhythm; they were just having fun, enjoying each other and the vibrant energy of their love and happiness. 

They were between choruses, the guitar, piano, and bongos still playing to keep the beat, while a trumpet had a solo. 

“Javi?” she said. 

“Yes, Cielito?” 

He spun them in a complete circle and continued on another lap around the dance floor. 

Her face was beside his, and she sang dramatically along with Juan Luis Guerra that she would like to be a fish so she could touch her nose to his fish tank and make love bubbles. Javier chuckled, which only egged her on to keep singing.

They didn’t stop moving, Javier humming along to her serenading him, and he was thinking about how much he loved this woman who made him laugh so easily and constantly amused him—she was sunshine, all bright, happy, and full of life, and the complete opposite of what he’d been before meeting her. 

There was that old saying, ‘Laughter is the best medicine,’ and he was pretty fucking sure it was true with how much better he was with her—she relaxed him, she’d crack a joke, and all of the tension melted away from his body. Her silliness brought him joy, and he felt so good after she told him a funny story, he always wanted her to keep talking. It sometimes felt like she was trying to make up for all of his laughless years before her, and when he thought about it, she had made a point in her marriage vows to promise to keep making him laugh and smile for the rest of their lives; it was a promise that she’d keep making him happy and that his life would never be miserable again. It was the greatest promise anyone had ever made to him, and for as long as he lived, he was going to worship the ground she walked on—he was wholly and undoubtedly hers and he would ensure she was aware of that fact every single day for the rest of their lives. 

When the song ended and they came to a stop, he let go of her. His hands held her beautiful face, rubbing his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks, her eyes shining in adoration, and he wanted to kiss that smile on her lips—he was so focused on her that he barely registered those in attendance clapping. 

"Javi?" she said. 

"Yes, mi vida (my life)?" 

“Do you remember the first time we listened to that song?” 

He smiled. “Yeah, you were making me my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich while I was cutting apple slices for lunch, and you kept wondering if you were hearing the lyrics right.” 

“Good, then I want you to know that eres mi pez, eres mi esposo, y siempre serás mi todo (You are my fish, you are my husband, and you will always be my everything)—I love you."

The tears he was keeping at bay were making his eyes burn, and it could be heard how choked up he was when he replied, "I love you, too." 

And to stop himself from crying in front of his wife and the almost hundred people watching, he hugged her to him in a tight embrace, welcoming her arms that held him just as tightly. A content sigh left him as all of the muscles in his body went lax, soaking up her warmth and comfort, the calm washing over him like a cool balm on a hot summer day. 

Something about Javier was that, even though he was raised Catholic, he didn't believe in God or any other almighty higher being somewhere out in the ether. It was easy to lose faith when someone had seen the things he'd seen and been through the shit he'd been through. He did, however, believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason; he thought that no matter what choices were made—good, bad, right, or wrong—they’d all lead to the same end result. 

For a long time, he questioned the purpose of all that he’d done in Colombia and what his sacrifices were for when, in the end, it felt like it was all for nothing, and in one aspect, it had been a pointless endeavor; everything he did, didn’t end the war on drugs, and there wasn’t anything that could. But those grueling years he spent wading through unimaginable hell and loneliness were the long and rocky road that brought him to the woman he loved—all he went through wasn’t for nothing, because it led him to finding heaven, his Cielito, his wife. This person who was his entire world, who he loved more than anything, whose presence gave him peace, and whose words touched his soul. She made all of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d shed over the years worth it, and he’d happily do it all again since he was fated to find the woman of his dreams and experience today, the best day of his entire life.  

It was still hard to believe she said, ‘I do,’ and he found himself unwrapping her left arm from around him and leaning away enough to bring her hand up, delicately holding her fingers in his own. He stared at the two rings, the proof she did marry him. The diamonds on the engagement ring glittered beneath the string lights above them, his thumb smoothing over the new gold band below it that matched the one on his finger. He kissed the modest-sized princess-cut diamond nestled between a pair of smaller ones on either side of it and felt so fucking happy he thought he might combust—he had a wife, he was a husband.  

Neither of them were able to get out another word before Diego’s voice was heard over the sound system, “La siguiente canción fue elegida por la novia para el segundo hombre más importante de su vida, quien la recibió en su familia con los brazos abiertos y es el mejor papá que cualquiera podría desear (The following song was chosen by the bride for the second most important man in her life, who welcomed her into his family with open arms, and is the best dad anyone could wish for). ¡Es hora del baile padre e hija (It’s time for the father-daughter dance)!” 

Growing up, you weren’t like most other girls who fantasized about their dream wedding. Of course, you hoped one day you’d meet the love of your life and get married. Still, in terms of the wedding itself, you knew from a young age your controlling parents would be heavily involved in the planning to ensure it met their standards and made them look good, so you didn’t see any point in thinking much about it. 

Then, you moved thousands of miles away to escape their control and live your life the way you wanted, and on Friday, June 12th, 1998, you fantasized for the first time about what your wedding would be like when you married Javier Peña—not if, when. 

It was the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you were cuddling on your couch, watching a movie—the entire pizza you’d ordered for dinner was eaten, the box sitting closed on the coffee table with a couple of empty cans of Coca-Cola on coasters near it. The two of you were too exhausted from hardly getting any sleep the night before to do anything more exciting than make out a little after eating. Honestly, it was nice how comfortable it was relaxing together. Since Javi was allergic to clothes, he’d been lounging in only his jeans, and when he got up to use the bathroom, you admired his back as he walked away. Ogling his front on his return to the living room, taking in the broadness of his chest, your spine tingling at seeing dark marks you sucked onto his golden skin—you’d wanted to kiss all over his soft belly and scratch your nails down the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared below the denim’s waistband. He’d been so amused by you blatantly checking him out he stopped paying attention to where he was walking and managed to slam his toe hard into one of the coffee table’s legs, which had him yelling ‘FUCK,’ and lifting his injured foot to awkwardly hop on the other, hissing a string of what you now knew, for sure, were Spanish curse words. Immediately, you jumped up to make sure he was okay and checked the damage to his big toe; it was mostly his ego that’d been bruised, and when you sat back down on the sofa, you made him lie across it with his head in your lap to play with his hair, to cheer him up—apparently, you’d been so tired that a few minutes later you forgot to filter your thoughts and accidentally said out loud: 

“Sure wish I was your big toe.”

He had twisted to look up at you, his face showing apparent confusion when he asked, “What?” 

Once again, what you were thinking spilled from your lips, “So you’d bang me on the coffee table.”

It’d been unbelievably stupid, yet it made Javi laugh so hard that his eyes practically disappeared with how thinly they slit together and adorably crinkled at the edges while he gave you a huge, blinding smile; his glee was infectious and had you both laughing until you cried—that was when you knew he was The One™️.

This was the first person you ever truly felt like you could be yourself with, and you knew, without a doubt, that he liked you for you and appreciated your silliness. And everything had seemed so easy with him—talking, dating, and how comfortable it was to spend hours on the couch watching TV while going long periods in silence. The familiarity between you two had made it feel as though you’d always known him, and it was crazy that your personalities and backgrounds were so vastly different, yet you meshed so well together—he understood you, and you understood him; you complemented one another. It hadn’t mattered that you were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man and never had a single codependent bone in your body; when Javier Peña would leave your apartment or even just the room you were in, you missed him—it was mind-boggling to like someone so much that your chest ached when they weren’t near.

Strangers who heard how quickly your relationship became serious liked to comment on how fast you fell for each other. Falling implies it was by accident, and there was uncertainty about where you’d land when, but in reality, there was no falling, no uncertainty; you were simply two parted souls who were reunited and had finally come home. 

So, the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, while you both laughed with tears streaming down your cheeks that hurt from smiling so big, it was cemented in your brain that you were going to marry him—a life you could see that would be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

The wedding you imagined all those months ago was close to how it turned out—a small, intimate ceremony only attended by a select few with a party afterward. Javi wore the black tuxedo you pictured, and his dad and Robyn were there, as you expected; however, it wasn’t your father who gave you away like you thought it’d be, and your mother wasn’t there to watch or even help you get ready. Back then, so soon after starting your relationship, you didn’t know that your parents would disapprove of Javi, and naively you had assumed they’d be happy for your nuptials—you knew they’d hate the wedding you planned, but they still would’ve come with the caveat of complaining the whole time, and there was no expectation for your brother and his family to be there due to how challenging it’d have been to travel with their gaggle of young children. You promised your best friend that you wouldn’t think about the people you used to share a last name with, and you were trying not to. There were simply moments when they came to mind, and you’d feel a pain in your chest like an invisible stab to the heart that tried to ruin this wonderful day. 

Frankly, your wedding was turning out better than you initially imagined it. All those who witnessed your ceremony loved it, and everyone at the reception was truly happy for you both. The best part, though, was the man who gave you away wasn’t related to you by blood. Still, he loved you more than those who did—he was genuinely proud of you, he supported your happiness, and would fight for you without a second thought; he was a real father, and you lucked out that he chose to be yours, loving you unconditionally as you always deserved. 

There was no one else in the world you wanted to have a father-daughter dance with more than your newly titled father-in-law, Jesús ‘Chucho’ Peña. 

As you stepped away from Javi after giving him a sweet departing kiss, you set your sights on your new dad sitting at the table with the Murphys and Robyn—Seb was back to work recording with the camcorder. The song began, starting with the dulcet tone of a violin and an entire orchestra backing it, the whimsicalness of the intro sounding as if it could’ve been pulled from a fairytale movie; “Amor Eterno” by Rocío Dúrcal was a breathtakingly beautiful ballad about grieving someone you loved. 

Chucho’s camera was atop the lavender tablecloth in front of him, and he had a hand over his mouth in shock, his eyes glistening with tears beneath the lenses of his glasses—he hadn’t known about the dance, as it was a surprise to show him what he meant to you. 

A smile formed on your lips, and you held out your hand toward him, walking his way. Steve was grinning beside the older man, giving him a pat on the back as Chucho stood and you approached. 

“Me?” he asked when you were close, pressing his fingertip to the center of his white-dress shirt-covered chest. 

You gently poked him over his heart. “You, Pop,” you said. “The best damn dad I’ve ever had, and I’m sorry for springing this on you, but if you’re willing, may I have this dance?” 

His eyes rounded, and he took your palm into his, smiling as he answered with a nod, “Yes, Mija. I apologize if I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t danced with anyone since mi Amor.” 

“Don’t stress,” you replied, swatting his apology away with your free hand. “We can just sway to the music. That’s always safe.” 

“Okay.” 

With that, you led him to the middle of the dance floor and faced him, Chucho holding your one hand up while your other was on his shoulder, his free palm resting on the center of your back. You easily followed his basic steps that had you sticking to a small area. 

His eyes were on yours. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he said. 

You smiled. “I know—it came on the radio the first time we made tamales together, and I remember you telling me it was one of your favorites.”

His face softened. “That’s what’s so great about you; you care, you really care, and not a day goes by without me thanking God for bringing you into our lives—it fills my heart with joy to see my Javi so happy, and I can breathe easier knowing that he finally found his media naranja (soulmate). We’re truly blessed to have you join our family, and I am lucky to be able to call you my daughter because you are my daughter.”

“Oh, Pop,” you said, holding back tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mija.” And the truth was shining in his eyes. 

“God, I’m trying so hard not to cry.” You took a deep, shaky breath, the two of you still slowly moving, swaying in a circle. “I’m lucky I have you and Javi—you’re such a great father, and you raised an amazing man.” The emotion was heavy in your voice as you continued speaking, your bottom lip wobbling, “I’m so unbelievably thankful and happy. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life.”

He gave you a happy smile. “You deserve it—now, let’s talk about something else so your beautiful makeup doesn’t get ruined by tears.” He lightly squeezed your hand in his. 

You huffed in amusement. “Thank you.” 

“Did I tell you mi Antonia loved the album this song was on?” he asked as you continued dancing. 

“You didn’t,” you answered with a shake of your head. 

"She played it all the time when it came out while she cooked or cleaned, and I'd come home to her beautiful voice singing along." It was obvious on his face that he was remembering fond memories. “She loved Juan Gabriel’s songs.” He was the writer of this song and an amazing Mexican singer-songwriter who collaborated with Rocío Dúrcal on many albums. “She had all of his albums, and she’d tell me to be quiet when he came on the radio.” He chuckled. “If we were home, and music was playing, any music, I’d just pull her into my arms, and we’d dance wherever we were in the house; it didn’t matter if we were in the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, or our bedroom, we’d just take a few minutes to ourselves and dance together.” You smiled, thinking about how Javi was the same way; if you put on a record to clean the apartment or turned on the radio to cook, it was a guarantee that he would make you stop and dance with him for at least one song. “That was something we did from the start of our relationship,” he continued, “until…” He swallowed thickly. “Until the very end.” His expression turned solemn, and you could tell the memory that came to him in that moment was painful to recall, your heart breaking for him that he lost the love of his life. He cleared his throat and tried to smile, but the pain was still there behind his eyes. “I see a lot of me and mi Amor in the two of you, and that’s how I know that what you have is real and that it’s gonna last.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” He nodded. 

The chorus began, Rocío Dúrcal beautifully singing:

“Amor eterno (Eternal love) Y inolvidable (And unforgettable) Tarde o temprano estaré contigo (Sooner or later, I will be with you) Para seguir amándonos (To continue loving each other).”

Listening to the lyrics, it made sense that this was one of Chucho’s favorite songs—it perfectly captured someone’s grief and their longing to be with the person they lost again. It was rare, but it was known to happen that couples who loved as deeply as your father and mother-in-law did, passed away close together, with the second succumbing to their broken heart. It showed Chucho’s strength that he managed to survive after losing a part of himself—his soulmate—and you were thankful he was strong for your husband. You thought there was a possibility his wife told him he had to keep going for their son’s sake because she knew Javi, just as you did, and had he lost both of his parents, he would’ve self-destructed and been even more reckless in Colombia; it pained you to think that he probably wouldn’t have made it home alive.  

The thought of his mother’s possible dying wish and the strength of his father had your vision blurring with tears. You were so unbelievably grateful that Javi had parents who loved him so dearly and that he loved just as fiercely. 

Concern showed on Chucho’s face. “What’s wrong, Mija?” 

“Nothing.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m just happy—really happy.” 

His lips turned up. “I’m happy—really happy, too, and—” His smile evolved into a full-blown grin. “—excited. Now that you’re married, I know mi primero nieto está a la vuelta de la esquina (my first grandchild is right around the corner).” 

He made you laugh. “Yes, Pop. We’re hoping we’ll have a kid by the end of the year.” 

His eyes went wide. “Really? The end of the year?” 

“That’s what we’re trying for.” 

It always weirded you out how freely people announced they were fucking raw or, in PG terms, trying for a baby. With how much Chucho yearned to be a grandfather, he’d be beyond happy to know you were trying to make his dream come true, and you were right. 

As the song came to a close, he pulled you into him, hugging you tight, and you embraced him in return. “My son got married to a wonderful woman, and there’s a possibility I might be an abuelo (grandpa) by December. This is the best year of my life since Javi was born—thank you.” 

“No, thank you for raising an incredible man that I can’t wait to have a family with.”

What he wished most was that he could share this amazing day with his wife. 

Chucho knew for certain Antonia would’ve been over the moon with happiness right along with him and would agree that this was turning out to be the best year of their lives since the birth of their son. 

What he would give for her to be here standing next to him, holding his hand, and getting a chance to hug her tight as they both cried from being overjoyed that their Javiercito was happy and married to a woman they loved. 

If his media naranja (soulmate) were here, he’d hold her in his arms and say, “Nuestro hijo a crecido, mi Amor (Our son has grown up, my Love). ¿Puedes creer que finalmente se casó y que podemos tener un nieto para fin de año (Can you believe he finally got married, and we may have a grandchild by the end of the year)?”

“¡Si dios quiere (God willing)!” she’d answer. “¡Es un sueño hecho realidad, mi Alma (It’s a dream come true, my Soul)! Criamos a un buen hombre, que sé que será un esposo y padre maravilloso (We raised a good man, who I know will be a wonderful husband and father).” He’d agree wholeheartedly and seal it with a kiss. 

As they grew older, Antonia’s reason for why Javi needed to hurry up and marry went from her wanting him to give them grandkids, to giving them grandkids and so she’d still be able to do a proper mother-son dance with him since her joints had started aching. Oh, how Chucho would’ve loved to see her dance with that good man they raised. 

He wished she could see with her own eyes that Javi was finally home and living the life they had always dreamt for him: having his own family with someone who truly cared about him, loved him, and made him happy. Chucho hadn’t seen their son thrive like this in almost twenty years, and Antonia’s heart would’ve burst with joy, like his did, every time she saw Javi’s big smile. 

There was no way for his Amor to be here in person, but she was with them in spirit. Tomorrow, he planned to take the camera film he used today down to the one-hour photo kiosk in the mall parking lot. After the pictures were developed, he’d go visit his Antonia to share them with her and tell her everything that happened; he may have lost her eight years ago, but he could still perfectly picture the beaming smile she’d give him upon hearing the news. 

The image in his mind lifted the corners of his lips—he missed that smile, as he missed her, especially today. 

He was excited to tell her how their new daughter had surprised him with a father-daughter dance to a song with special meaning. He found comfort in “Amor Eterno,” and for some weeks after his wife’s passing, that album she loved was all he listened to—it took years for him to be able to hear the song without crying. Now, he had a happier memory attached to it, which he appreciated.  

With the absence of the bride’s parents—who were unwelcome anyway and were not allowed to step foot on his property—Chucho had assumed there wouldn’t be a father-daughter dance or a mother-son dance, since his Amor couldn’t be there. He was touched that Javi’s Cielito thought so highly of him that she’d honor him with the dance. 

He welcomed her into their family the first time they met and had been ready to be a father-in-law to her, but when he heard about how her family treated and disrespected her, Chucho had no problem stepping up to be a father-figure if she so wished, and she did. This poor girl was so kind and truly wonderful; it saddened him that her parents didn’t love her as she deserved or supported her life choices. By no means were he and his wife perfect parents—there were things they wished they could’ve done differently with Javi, but they sure loved the hell out of him and supported him. A parent should want their child to be happy, healthy, and successful; as long as they’re happy and healthy, it shouldn’t matter what they decide to do with their life that they consider success. 

Swimming made Javi happy, and they did whatever they could to encourage him. 

They knew their son wasn’t happy in Colombia, but he was passionate about his job and wanted to get it done, so they continued cheering him on and were there for him whenever and however he needed them to be as best they could from home. 

Chucho was damn proud of the things his new daughter had achieved in her life, and he’d still be proud of her no matter what she did for work because the only thing that mattered was her happiness.

He knew her father was a well-educated man with many fancy degrees. Still, Chucho questioned the other man’s intelligence because he couldn’t seem to comprehend something so basic as caring about his kid’s well-being and loving them unconditionally. 

Frankly, Chucho was glad she was no longer under her parents’ scrutiny, and it felt good that she thought so highly of him as a dad that she honored him with the dance. 

Another surprise that warmed his heart was his son taking the time to dance a whole song with each of Chucho’s sisters. Javier went from oldest to youngest, starting with his tía María, to the song “¿Y Cómo es El?” by José Luis Perales, then his tía Lupe—who had him laughing while they moved around the dance floor—to “Sergio el Bailador” by Bronco, one of her favorite songs. Now, he was dancing with his tía Rebeca to “Piel Canela” by Eydie Gormé, the two slowly moving from side to side and talking. 

He stood at the edge of the dance floor taking pictures of his son and his baby sister; his sobrino (nephew), Sebastián, was beside him with a video camera, recording what was going on. 

“Hey, good lookin’,” Robyn said as she approached them from behind. 

Chucho lowered the camera from his face with a smile, his upper body twisting to the right to look at her. “Hola, Pajarito (Hi, little bird).” 

Seb interjected, “Sabes que ella estaba hablando conmigo, Tío (You know she was talking to me, Uncle).” He addressed the woman, “Hola, hermosa (Hi, beautiful).” The younger man had the camcorder held up but turned his head to accept a quick kiss from his girlfriend, who had to rise up on her toes to meet his mouth. 

She broke away, grinning, and replied, “No, I was greetin’ Chucho.” Her attention turned to him. “You’re lookin’ mighty handsome tonight, and I gotta say, it was lovely watchin’ you dance with my girl.” 

“It was lovely that she asked me.” 

The bride was sitting over at the table with the Murphys in his empty spot, the love clear in her eyes as she stared at her husband—it was sweet.

“What are you doing over here?” Seb asked her. She turned his way and stepped to have herself against his side. She wrapped her arms around his middle and tilted her head to meet his eyes. 

“You were standin’ here lookin’ like sex on legs, and I needed to come remind you that I’m takin’ your ass home tonight.” 

Chucho chuckled. It was easy to see why Robyn and his daughter were instant best friends the first time they met—neither had any shame and said what they were thinking. It was incredibly amusing. 

The younger man wore a little smile. “Yes, you are,” Sebastián replied. “I didn’t forget. You wanna stay with me? This is the last dance I have to record, and then I’m all yours.” 

“I think I will—if that’s alright with you,” she directed at Chucho, looking over her shoulder at him. 

He smiled. “You go ahead. I think I’ll head back to the table.” 

His knees were sore, and he needed to sit down for a little while. Just as the song was ending, he turned toward the table and saw that his new daughter was already standing at the corner of the dance floor, waiting for her husband. Javi gave his tía a quick hug, and Chucho smiled at how, the moment his son’s arms left Rebeca, he was zeroing in on his wife. 

Chucho wouldn’t say they hugged upon reaching each other; hug was too tame of a word to describe their intimate embrace, which almost had him blushing—and because he was a father whose sole purpose was to give his child or children a hard time, he lifted his camera, and snapped a picture so that he could tease them relentlessly later on. 

Wolf whistles sounded, people cheered, and he chuckled at the fact there was no denying Javier was his son—Chucho couldn’t keep his hands off his wife either, and if things had been different, if life was a little kinder, they probably would’ve had at least ten kids. He was more than happy with his one, though; su bendición (his blessing), who’d grown into an incredible man he couldn’t be prouder of. With all the good that had happened to Javier over the last year, he believed his son would have much better luck when it came to having children, and Chucho loved the idea of ten nietos (grandchildren) to spoil rotten. 

The white satin hugging her ass was silky smooth beneath both of Javier’s palms, his tongue in her mouth, tasting the sweetness of powdered sugar and hints of the buttery nuttiness from a Mexican wedding cookie she’d eaten. He loved how her fingers tangled in his hair, and he wanted to drown in the scent of her perfume that had him feeling heady with its fruity, woodsy notes, Javier already half-hard in his pants.  

He was happy his father and tías had a chance to be honored with dances after all they’d done for him and Cielito, but the closer he got to finishing his last dance, the more his anticipation grew to be alone with his wife—it was taking everything in him not to drag her away right this second, but he was waiting for—

Diego spoke into the microphone, “¡Damas y caballeros, es hora de festejar (Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to party)! ¡Quiero verlos a todos en la pista de baile (I want to see you all on the dance floor)!” 

The whine of an accordion, accompanied by a quick beat, came over the speakers—it was the beginning of “La Chona” by Los Tucanes de Tijuana, and with the excited cheers and whistles, people were doing as his primo said, moving onto the dance floor. This was when the newlyweds could make their escape. Javier reluctantly ended the kiss, his hand latching onto her smaller one. 

“Come on,” was all he said, quickly leading her away from the party and out of the tent, her giggles trailing behind him. 

He was on a mission, hurriedly thanking those they passed by who congratulated them and getting her into the house, managing to make it through the kitchen to the entryway that his old bedroom was off of without his tía María noticing as she stood at the kitchen sink. Javier tugged Cielito into the room, pushing her back against the door he closed—his lips crushed onto hers in a searing kiss while he turned the lock on the doorknob and flicked on the light switch. 

All night, the tension had built to this moment that found them alone, behind a locked door, and both so desperate for the other that it was a frenzy of messy kisses and fumbling hands to get their clothes off—his tuxedo jacket was first to go, his tie next, her fingers popping open a few of his top shirt buttons; then he was hauling her away from the door, turning them so he was walking her backward into the bedroom, his digits deftly pulling down the zipper at the back of her dress. They came to a stop, the kissing continuing while he carefully pulled the straps off her arms, the silk wedding dress cascading to the floor to pool at her feet. 

Before the ceremony, when he snuck over here to talk to her as she got ready, she let him feel what she was wearing beneath the dress, and now he got to see. Javier held her fingers in one hand, unable to stop touching her, and took a step back to drink her in, his cock already throbbing and straining against the zipper of his dress pants. 

His eyes stared at her beautiful face and moved downward—he loved her with or without makeup; he didn’t have a preference since he always thought she was gorgeous, just as she was now, all dolled up. His gaze moved to her chest, seeing the white, lacy strapless bra for the first time, and his fingers itched to undo it to see her perfect tits. Lower, she had on stretchy spandex like her bicycle shorts that went halfway up her abdomen and midway down her thighs—her reasoning for wearing the Spanx was so she didn’t look ‘lumpy’ or have panty lines in her dress that tightly hugged her figure; Javier wasn’t a fan of them hiding her belly, or the idea that she felt self-conscious enough to hide it, but they made her feel comfortable, and that was all that mattered. Plus, he knew if she turned around, he’d love how good the spandex made her ass look. He would’ve had her show him, however, his attention was stuck on the blue garter wrapped around her thigh, sitting just above her knee. 

The strip of satin was dusty blue, with a bow made from the same material placed in the center over an overlay of ivory floral lace. The wedding tradition was to have the groom remove the garter and toss it into the crowd like the bride does with the bouquet, but Javier didn’t like the idea of getting under her dress in front of a tent full of people. It was something he wanted to do alone with her, because there was no way he was only removing the garter if he had a chance to get under her dress. 

Her beauty, her smell, that damn blue garter, and the fact that once it was off, he could strip everything else she was wearing from below the waist from her had him hitting his breaking point—he needed her so bad, he thought he might go insane if he didn’t have his face buried in her pussy within the next two minutes. His lips landed on hers, kissing her hard and swallowing her moan, relishing her fingers sliding back into his hair. Their tongues were entangled, and with his hands on her waist, he spun them to the left, moving her backward a few steps, to press her spine against the wall. His heart was pounding in his chest, arousal curling in his gut, and his breaths panted when his mouth left hers to nip at her chin. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, kissing a wet streak along her jaw. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips made a journey down her throat, sucking on her pulse point; she gasped, her hands pulling his hair harder, Javier groaning at the pleasurable pain. 

He spoke his words into her skin as he kissed along her chest, “You’re my wife, my beautiful, sexy wife.” His head dipped, and Javier lightly sunk his teeth into the top of her breast. 

“Javi,” she moaned. “Oh, god, why are you so hot?” 

He soothed over his bite with a kiss and said when his face lifted, “Because I’m the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.” Javier smirked.

She giggled, grinning at him. “You’re a sexy dork, is what you are.” 

“Your sexy dork.” 

“Yes, you are.” Her hands pushed down on his shoulders, and he understood immediately, starting to lower himself, kissing her body as he went—her neck, her chest, her tits, her stomach; Javier chose to ignore his joints popping when he took a knee.

He removed her thin shoe as he lifted her foot to rest on top of his thigh. Keeping his eyes on hers, he took the garter’s silk between his teeth and slowly pulled it over her bent knee, going lower until it fell freely down her calf to her ankle, where he took it off. Javier slid the soft, smooth fabric over his hand and up his arm to wear it on his bicep for everyone to see. 

She was smiling down at him, her eyes darkened. “I am so in love with you.” 

“I’m so in love with you,” he replied, kissing the side of her thigh. He set her foot back onto the ground, their gazes locked while he took off and pocketed the golden cufflinks from his wrists, speaking as he began rolling up his sleeves, “I’m going to make you come with my mouth,” he said, finishing one, and starting on the second. “Then, as I told you earlier, I’m fucking you against this wall—” He nodded at the one behind her. “—while you taste your pussy on my tongue.” Both of his sleeves were rolled up his forearms. “Any requests?” he asked and got his fingers under the waistband of her Spanx. 

“Yes.” She nodded and cupped his cheek with her palm. “After you come deep inside me, where I promise to keep you all night, you’re going to tie your bow tie around my arm—if you're wearing my garter, then I'm wearing your bow tie." 

Javier wasn’t a possessive man, yet knowing she’d wear so many things to show she was his, and only his, had his chest swelling up with pride and happiness vibrating under his skin—like her, he wanted to broadcast to everyone that he was hers, and hers alone, and the ring on his finger wasn’t enough for him tonight. 

The sound he made was practically a growl as he tugged the stretchy fabric down her legs, revealing that she was wearing nothing beneath it. He couldn’t help himself and shoved his face between her legs, deeply inhaling her while freeing her foot from the shorts, her hands clutching his hair. Javier’s mouth was watering at the thought of tasting her, and he became impatient, raising the leg he freed onto his shoulder to give him room to work with—two of his fingers spread open the lips of her sex, seeing it glistening with her need for him. 

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he said, and he meant it. Javier licked his lips, and he was unable to wait for another second, leaning in—

Knocking sounded on the bedroom door, his head whipping toward the noise. 

“Hey,” his dad’s muffled voice said, “when you’re finished getting ready, I told Connie that Nate can sleep in Javi’s old bed—the poor little guy can barely keep his eyes open, and the music is too loud for him to sleep out there. If only the nursery were finished, we could’ve had him give it a test drive.” Chucho chuckled. “Oh, and Mija, Robyn wanted me to tell you she requested one of your favorite songs.” 

Javier loved his dad a lot, especially how he cared about his friends’ family, but the man had the worst timing. Frustration had him wanting to pull his hair out because there was no way he could continue what they were doing when his sobrino (nephew) needed a place to sleep; that was more important than Javier getting his dick wet. He looked up at his wife to commiserate over their bad luck, and his stomach dropped at seeing her hands hiding her face in embarrassment—it reminded him of the first time he’d brought her out here to meet his dad and how mortified she’d been when the elder Peña knocked while Javier was inside her. Her discomfort had his arousal fizzling out, guilt and concern replacing it; he needed to make her feel better, so he slid a hand up the outside of her bare thigh to rub comforting circles on her hip. 

“Amor,” he whispered for just her ears. “Pop would be teasing the fuck out of us if he knew what we were up to—he doesn’t know.”

Her palms lowered, and her expression said she wasn’t sure if she believed him. 

“Give us ten minutes, Pop!” Javier said, loud enough for his father to hear. 

Her eyes rounded. “We are not fucking,” she hissed. 

His eyebrow arched, speaking quietly, “I know, and I’m no two-pump chump. We’d need more than ten minutes to fuck, baby.” He gently got her leg off his shoulder. 

“I’ll let Connie know,” Chucho said. “And I’ll make sure they don’t play the song until you’re out there.”

“Thanks, Pop!” Cielito replied. 

“You’re welcome, see you soon.” 

Javier used his hands on his knee to push himself up to stand, grunting as he rose to his feet in front of his wife. He rubbed his palms along her upper arms, then lifted her chin with his finger to make her look at him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

She was frowning. “The risk of getting caught? Hot. It really gets me going. Actually getting or almost getting caught? Mortifying, and I’d rather the earth swallow me whole than experience it.” 

“Lo siento, mi amor (I’m sorry, my love). I know you hate when it happens. I get it if you want to hold off trying anything else before we leave. But, if you still wanna fool around while we’re out here, we’ll have better luck in the laundry room, or I can grab a lantern from the barn for the hayloft.” 

It was on her face that she was weighing his suggestions, and the fact that she was even considering had excitement thrumming inside him. He, of course, was fine with waiting to fuck until they got to the hotel room he was surprising her with tonight, but holy shit, was he unbelievably horny for her. 

“I’m not feeling the scratchiness of hay or getting my cute white dress dirty,” she responded. “I’d be down for the laundry room, though—you’re right, location-wise, it’s perfect.” 

He smiled big, happily chuckling as he kissed her. When he broke away, he nuzzled his nose against hers. 

“I really fucking love you,” he said. 

“I really fucking love you, too.” 

Javier pressed his large palm to her cheek and gazed into her eyes, the expression on her face just as happy as his. “Soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo de poder llamarme tu esposo (I am the luckiest man in the world to be able to call myself your husband).” 

Her eyes softened. “La afortunada soy yo (I’m the lucky one). Tengo el honor de ser tu esposa (I have the honor of being your wife)—” She poked him in the chest. “—y tener a tus bebés lindos (and having your cute babies).”

The happiness and excitement of all she said being true had him wrapping her up in his arms, her feet coming off the ground as he spun them around in place, making her laugh. When they came to a stop, he was panting, the two of them wearing matching grins, and Javier couldn’t think of another day in his entire life that he’d ever been as happy as he was today—it indeed was the happiest day of his life, and what made his eyes start misting was knowing this was the first of many happiest days of his life that were yet to come. 

It was she who kissed him this time, her hands grabbing his face to pull him into her as she smashed her lips against his. Javier leaned further into her, hugging her tightly to have as much of them touching as possible. He loved how their bodies fit so perfectly together—the softness of hers giving way to the hardness of his own. 

They wore big smiles when they separated, Cielito giggling at him playfully smacking her ass as she moved away. He turned to watch her approach his old full-size bed, unable to keep his eyes from roaming over her body from behind. 

God, she was sexy—how’d he get so lucky?

The dress she was wearing to the party was laid out atop the mattress, and he was so focused on checking her out that he missed what she picked up from beside her outfit. He wasn’t in the dark for long, though, with her purposefully keeping her back to him while pulling on a white lacy thong—he was still hard, and the sight had his dick twitching, a groan tumbling from his throat. Javier’s hands went to the front of his slacks to adjust himself, trapping his hard-on under the waistband of his pants. 

She looked at him over her shoulder, her pretty eyes sparkling with mischief, her lips lifted in a smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. “I wanted it to be a surprise for when we got home,” she said. “But, I kinda like you knowing what awaits when you get under my dress.” She winked. 

His feet were moving of their own accord. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me?” he asked, and as he got closer to her, he could see the lace lining the tops of her asscheeks that went around her waist had a floral design—sunflowers, to be exact. Before he could reach her, she spun around to face him, putting up her hand to keep him back; it pressed against his chest as he stopped.

“No touching,” she quickly told him with a smirk, his own lips turning down in a frown. “And kill you? No.” She shook her head. “Torture you? Maybe a little.” Cielito shrugged. 

“Torture your new husband? That’s pretty fucking mean, mi amor.” 

Her palm moved to caress his cheek. “Can’t a girl love it when her husband is needy for her?”

Javier took her hand and pressed it against the front of his pants, over his hard cock. “Feel how needy your husband is for you, how I want you more than anything, and am dying to be inside you—your ass in that fucking thong is all I’m gonna be able to think about until I get another chance alone with you.”

She squeezed him, and it had his mouth going slack, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. 

"Good—that's exactly what I want." She pecked him on the lips and let go of him, her upper body twisting to grab her dress off of the bed. "Now, stop distracting me. I’m in a hurry," she said, pulling the garment over her head. Her arms went through the spaghetti straps, and she turned away from him again, holding the front of the dress to her chest, the back gaping open along the bodice. "Can you zip me up, babe? Pretty please." 

"Yeah," he answered and did as she requested, carefully zipping her up and managing to kiss her bare shoulder once before she faced him again. 

The day she bought the dress for the party, she showed it to him when she got home and even modeled it for him. At that time, he still had it in his head that he was going to do things right by her and wait to consummate their marriage until he got her to the hotel. When he saw her in the tight, white satin that went down to her knees with a goddamn slit halfway up her left thigh, Javier knew his strength was going to be tested tonight; he really did hope he could hold out.

Unfortunately, his resolve was thrown out the window the night before when he had to spend it alone, thinking about the sexy woman in front of him, and Jesus Christ, was she so fucking sexy—he could see now that it was a shorter, sexier version of her wedding dress with the neckline V-ing to accentuate her tits, while the buttery soft fabric molded to her curves perfectly like the other dress. 

“Do I look okay?” she asked, and his attention went to her face, seeing she was looking down at her body with a frown, which made him match her expression.  

Javier hated when she doubted her beauty, and he wished she could see from his perspective just how perfect she was. 

He lifted her chin with his finger to make her meet his gaze, and he smiled. “You look more than okay, Cielito,” he reassured her. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” he very confidently replied. 

His eyes moved down her form again, taking in her beauty, and he wet his bottom lip, silently cursing that they couldn’t stay in this room alone and uninterrupted for a quickie. His gaze reached hers one more, and amusement was clear on her face. She kissed his cheek as she walked around him to put on her shoe. 

“What?” he asked, turning in place to look at her. 

She kept her balance with a hand on the wall while fitting her flat back onto her foot.

“You’ve got ‘fuck me’ eyes,” she replied, setting her shoed foot on the ground and moving toward the door. 

He started heading her way. “I have ‘fuck me’ eyes?” he retorted. He was glad she was over her moment of self-consciousness. “Baby, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy all night, giving me ‘fuck me’ eyes.” 

She stopped to bend over and pick something up off of the floor, his gaze stuck on her ass, picturing the white lace he knew was under the satin.

“And I’m gonna keep giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes until you fuck me, Javier.” She straightened and spun on her heel to look at him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m not trying hard enough?” 

“I think you’re doing the best you can in our current situation, and I know, without a doubt, you’re gonna use that big, sexy brain of yours to find us a way to fool around uninterrupted. I mean this lovingly,” she continued, reaching out to touch his arm with her palm. “You’re a stubborn man and horny stubborn Javi cannot be stopped—we both wanna fuck, and you’re gonna figure out a way for us to fuck, because you are a wonderful husband.” 

Javier loved hearing her call him a wonderful husband. 

He smiled. “You really think my brain is sexy?” 

Her eyebrow lifted. “Javi, baby, all of you is sexy, including your brain, and you are aware your intelligence turns me on—like how when we go stargazing, you nerding out about the stars makes me wet and is a very effective form of foreplay.” 

That was true—they always end up fucking when they go stargazing. Javier couldn’t stop his chest from puffing up a little that his wife was turned on by how smart he was. 

She rolled her eyes and kept talking, “It seems your ego has been stroked enough.” She held out his bow tie to him. “Here. Take this. We need to get going.” 

His brows furrowed—he thought they were adjusting their outfits to be more comfortable when they went back out to the party. He didn’t understand why she’d want him to put his tie back on. 

“Really? I’ll wear it, but you have to tie it.” 

His fingers started re-buttoning his shirt, and Cielito batted at his hands. “Stop that—you’re not wearing it, you’re tying it onto my arm. Remember?” 

She still wanted to wear his bow tie, which made his heart so happy it could burst. Javier grinned, accepting the long strip of black fabric. 

“I do,” he said, and she turned to give him better access to her arm, choosing the same side he had her garter on. He lifted her limb by the elbow and ducked his head to kiss a spot midway down her bicep, then looped his bow tie around where he kissed, tying it like he’d tie shoelaces. 

Before they left, they picked up their discarded clothes, hanging up her dress and his tuxedo jacket in his old closet, her Spanx getting put into her overnight bag, which she’d brought with her the previous night when she stayed over. His lips found hers one last time, then he took her smaller hand into his and led her out of the room.

Music blared outside the house, but inside, it was dampened aside from the pounding bass that could practically be felt. They found Connie and their dad sitting at the kitchen table, Chucho holding the Murphy’s youngest and feeding him a bottle while he quietly chatted with the mother. 

Yeah, it sucked that Javier and his wife were interrupted before things could get good, but seeing the look of relief and gratitude on their friend’s face when they told her the room was hers completely washed away any bad feelings they had. See, since he and Cielito were trying to start their family, babies were on both of their brains, and they could put themselves into Connie’s shoes, wanting to help out the mother in any way possible; after she left the kitchen with Nate, his father explained that Steve had the two older kids back at the party eating cake, and Chucho happily volunteered to give Connie a hand even though she vehemently protested. He told her he wanted to get some practice in being an abuelo, and she thought that was so sweet she let him make the bottle—which he knew how to do from when Javier was a baby and from the bottle-fed calves on the ranch, like Daphne and Velma—and try to get Nate asleep by feeding him, an endeavor he succeeded in doing. 

Chucho was pretty fucking proud of himself. 

He told them he picked Connie’s brain about what he should get for the nursery because things weren’t as simple as they were back when Javier was born—he somehow figured out a way to write down a list while feeding Nate, and at the top of it, ‘Diaper Genie’ was underlined twice, and circled. 

They loved their father’s excitement over becoming a grandfather. Even with the pressure sometimes stressing them out, Chucho meant well, and they appreciated the extra support. 

Minutes later, the newlyweds found themselves under the tent and on the dance floor.

Javier knew which song Robyn requested the moment he heard the opening synthesizers—if his wife ranked her favorite ABBA songs, “Lay All Your Love On Me” would take the top spot, and her ear-splitting squeal as it came on confirmed as much. 

His hands were on her hips while her arms were around his neck, and up until this point, her eyes had been closed as they moved to the rhythm of the previous song; now they were open, and the expression on her face showed her pure delight, which made him smile. She threw her hands up when the drums kicked in, bouncing on her toes to the beat. 

She sang along with the track:

“I wasn’t jealous before we met…”

If it wouldn’t ruin her performance, Javier would tell her after each of the lines that there wasn’t a single woman on the entire planet that was a threat to her, and he liked that she was a little possessive of him; that he was the only man she wanted, and she staked her claim that he was hers. 

The following line had her miming taking a drag of a cigarette, and it made him chuckle before a tingle was moving down his spine at her palm pressing to his cheek as she stared deeply into his eyes. With the time since they left his old bedroom, Javier had calmed down to the point that he wasn’t hard anymore, something he didn’t think would last. 

“But now it isn’t true.” 

Her hand moved to rest over his thudding heart. 

“Now everything is new

And all I’ve learned has overturned I beg of you.” 

She had both of her palms on his chest, their gazes locked, and he knew he was fucked. 

“Don’t go wasting your emotion—”

As she sang, her darkened eyes stayed on his as her body lowered, her hands following, dragging them down his abdomen, over his stomach, his waist, his thighs, to the tops of his knees until her head was at the same level as his crotch. With how she was looking up at him under her eyelashes and how close she was to his dick, his mouth went dry, the blood rushing to his groin. He had to hold back his groan at the thought of how she would’ve nuzzled the front of his pants if they were alone. He needed to touch her and rested his hands on her bare shoulders. 

She continued singing:

“—Lay all your love on me.” 

His wife rose, rubbing her palms back up the way they came, and it was embarrassing that he was so pent up that just her touch was fucking him up. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead; she had him feeling hot enough that he had to undo another button on his shirt. 

Cielito faced away from him, grinding her ass against his half-hard cock, and she rolled her head back onto his shoulder, reaching a hand behind her to thread fingers into his hair. His hands fell to her hips, pulling them back into his, and when he turned his head to look at her as she sang that ‘a grown-up woman should never fall so easily,’ she was giving him those damn ‘fuck me’ eyes—he loved her so fucking much, but she was going to be the death of him. 

He let his body move with hers and thought it wasn’t fair that he was the one getting worked up—two could play this very dangerous game. Javier ducked his head to kiss along the skin of her shoulder and up to her neck, where he sucked over her pulse. The way her voice faltered for a second only encouraged him. 

He grazed his teeth across the pounding pulse point, ending with a nip to her jaw. 

“—Fuck,” the last word was moaned, and he smiled, feeling her entire body shiver. 

His wife caught onto what he was doing and spun away from him to end up at his back with her front pressed to his spine—her arms went around him, singing while her palms started at his belly and trailed up his torso to his pecs where he grabbed them. He raised one of her hands, rubbing it against his smooth cheek, and then kissed the center of her palm. 

This wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this, and Javier didn’t know what it was about this song in particular that riled her up so much. When “Lay All Your Love On Me” came on while they were by themselves at home, her antics were even hornier, and she usually made him sit back on the couch while she gave him a fully-clothed lap dance. Her kryptonite, though? The thing that made it a 100% guarantee they were going to fuck after the song? Was him singing it. He loved that the simplest things turned her on, and if it got her to disappear to the laundry room with him, he had no problem exploiting her weakness. 

He turned in her hold, slotting his knee between both of hers, his hand gripping her hip while the other grasped her palm, and he started moving them to the music in the little space they occupied. His lips went to her ear, and she immediately went quiet as he softly crooned along with the song:

“‘Cause everything is new

And everything is you

And all I’ve learned has overturned

What can I do?” 

“You can kiss me,” she said, breaking her hand free from his to grab his face with both of hers to kiss him hotly. 

He gave as good as he got, wrapping one arm around her middle, his free hand cradling the back of her skull. She sought entrance to his mouth with a swipe of her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he eagerly opened to tangle his own with hers. 

How they knew each other so well had happiness swelling inside him. She was his best friend, the love of his life, and there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.  

The two of them were breathing hard when their lips detached at the song’s end, both smiling. She was giving him that look that told him she was on the same page as him for where they were about to go. 

“You wanna get out of—” His question died when someone clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Jav?” Steve said to get his attention, and Javier couldn’t help his glare when he looked at the other man. His friend’s expression pinched in confusion. “Why the hell are you giving me that look?” 

Javier took a deep breath and slowly let it out, schooling his features to hide his annoyance. “What did you need?” 

“It’s getting kind of late for the kids, and Olivia was looking forward to dancing with you. Can you dance to one song with her? It’d mean a lot to her, and to me ‘cause it’ll get her to stop talking to that boy, Efraim.” Steve jutted his thumb back toward their table where Olivia was laughing at Efraim, who was one of his primo’s kids and about her age. Chucho was over there, too, with Connie, a baby monitor in front of her, and both adults watching Stevie, the three-year-old playing with his Ninja Turtle action figures on the table next to them, the woman saying something to his dad. His friend was frowning. “I’m not ready for my baby girl to like boys, and I don’t like that he’s making her laugh so much.” 

The reminder that he promised Olivia a dance was like having ice-cold water poured over him, his stomach dropping to the floor that he’d forgotten. He took in what Steve said, and he wanted to be annoyed with the older man’s overprotectiveness, but once again, he could step into the parent’s shoes. He also wouldn’t be ready for his nine-year-old daughter to like boys—if he had a daughter, he wouldn’t be ready for her to like boys at any age, even though that was irrational, and he knew it’d happen at some point; hopefully when she was twenty-five, or better yet, thirty. 

“Efraim’s a sweet kid, Steve,” Cielito said. “Olivia is just making a new friend—you weren’t complaining earlier when Javi was dancing with his tías, and she was playing with all those other children.” Most of Javier’s fourteen cousins had more than one kid, and that meant there were a lot of children running around.

“That was a group,” Steve replied. “I’m not big on this one-on-one stuff.” 

Javier could see this heading into an argument between his wife and best friend, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that, so he’d nip it in the bud. 

His attention turned to Cielito, rubbing his palms along her arms. “Hey,” he said, and she looked at him. “I’m gonna go dance with Olivia. I promised her I would, and I’ll feel like shit if I don't keep my word.” He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. “Don’t wander off—as soon as I’m done, you’re coming with me, and I’m getting you out of those panties.” To punctuate his sentence, he grabbed a handful of her ass, making her giggle. 

“You better.” She winked, and he smiled, giving her a quick kiss. 

Past-you deserved a high-five for thinking to fool around on the drive back to Chucho’s. The thought of how insanely grumpy Javi would be right now if you hadn’t was enough to make you shudder. Steve should honestly thank you for saving him from getting his head chewed off when he derailed your sexy laundry room plans. 

Having your two attempts at horny rendezvous interrupted wasn’t great, and you were starting to develop whatever the woman equivalent of ‘blue balls’ was. You couldn’t be mad at Pop or Steve, though, because they had good reasons: Nate needing a place to sleep away from all the noise? Understandable—the living room couch was taken by a couple of Javi’s cousin’s babies, and since Chucho gutted the guest bedroom to turn it into a nursery, Javi's old bed was the only option for the Murphy’s one-year-old. Steve, reminding your husband that he promised Olivia a dance? A good reminder, because if they left while Javi and you were busy fucking, your husband would’ve been really upset with himself for letting her down; he already worried about her feeling like she was less important to him with all of the changes in his life, and forgetting the dance would’ve been devastating for them both. 

What this highlighted was how much of a family man Javier was. His desires came secondary to his family’s needs, and that showed what a wonderful husband he already was.

You married a good, good man, and dear god, he was so hot. 

Diego was playing another track by Los Tucanes de Tijuana with a quick beat, “El Tucanazo.” Olivia was laughing as Javi made her twirl with a grin on his flushed face and pulled her back to him. With their height difference, his arm was fully extended to hold her shoulder, her small palm resting on his elbow, while his other hand kept her tinier one up to lead her in simple steps that involved a lot of him twirling her—she was absolutely loving it. 

It had you imagining Javier dancing with your future daughter, and what really gave you the warm fuzzies was knowing he’d start dancing with her as a baby in his arms—he’d dance with all of your babies. 

What a wonderful husband and future father. 

“Spin, tía!” Stevie yelled in your arms.

Right. When Javi asked Olivia to dance, the three-year-old felt left out and got upset, so in order to stop him from having a total meltdown—it was past his bedtime—you offered to dance with him, as his new tía and the wedding’s bride. You had him on your hip, holding his little hand in yours, and you accidentally got distracted by your husband’s hotness. 

“Sorry, kiddo,” you replied, bouncing with him to the music’s rhythm. The child giggled each time you spun, going one way, then the other, and pausing every once in a while so you didn’t get dizzy. During one of those pauses, you happened to catch Javi’s dark eyes staring at you, and it made you feel pretty incredible that he was just as distracted by you.

When the song ended, Connie and Steve decided it was time to get their children back to their hotel. They weren’t accustomed to these parties that went on for hours like your new family was, and they didn’t want to mess with boys’ sleep schedules too much. Goodbyes were made outside of the tent, with the promise to Olivia and Stevie that you’d all eat an early dinner together the following day at their hotel’s restaurant before their flight home. After watching the Murphys walk back into the house to get Nate on their way to their SUV out front, the two of you were alone, Javi holding you from behind with his chin on your shoulder. 

“Five minutes?” you asked, “Or should we play it safe and wait ten?”

“Five minutes isn’t enough time,” he spoke in your ear. “Connie will have everyone use the bathroom before their drive back into town. We add in Nate maybe needing a diaper change, and we’re looking at a minimum of ten minutes before they’re out of the house and on their way.” 

You hugged his arms to you, smiling. “Look at you having the family-with-small-children math down,” you said, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “What do you wanna do while we wait?” 

“We could make out?” 

“That sounds like a good time.” 

Diego came over the speakers, announcing, “Bien, vamos a frenar las cosas (Okay, let’s slow things down).” Selena’s “Dreaming Of You” started playing.  

“Or,” Javi started, “we could slow dance…?” 

“What a romantic man—may I have this dance, Mr. Peña?” 

“You may, Mrs. Peña.” He kissed a spot behind your ear, then moved to take your hand, leading you back into the tent to the dance floor that was occupied by many other couples. 

When he suggested slow dancing, you imagined it’d be like how you danced your first dance, and at home in the kitchen many times before, with him leading you by one of your hands while the two of you slowly moved. You weren’t expecting him to loop your arms around his neck or for him to pull you into him with his big palms midway between your waist and ass to have you dancing like a couple of teenagers at prom. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck where he dabbed some of his spicy cologne, and the two of you swayed back and forth while Selena sang about there being nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than in her room, dreaming about herself with the one she loved. 

This was the first moment all day where you felt relaxed—there were no more worries about setting up the party, the ceremony was done, and so were the dances. Now, you were just another pair on the dance floor, slowly moving to the music. There was no need for talking. Both of you simply enjoying the other’s company without everyone’s attention on you. 

When the song ended, you still needed to kill another handful of minutes, and that was how you ended up camped out by the house’s backdoor, sharing a slice of your wedding cake—it was vanilla cake with lemon curd filling and raspberry buttercream icing. Like all of Anna’s baked goods, the cake was incredible. You each had your own plastic fork while Javi held the small paper plate. Your husband kept peeking through the door’s window, trying to keep out of the way of the few people going in and out of the home. 

A disappointed sound came from you when, in the middle of taking a bite, Javi suddenly tossed the rest of the cake into a nearby trashcan along with his fork and grabbed your hand. 

“Let’s go,” he said, and you only had a split second to toss your own fork into the garbage before you were getting tugged along into the house. 

The backdoor led down a hall to the kitchen, and just inside the door to the right was the staircase that went up to Chucho’s room. If you walked a little further down the hallway, the guest bathroom was on the right, and another hallway was to the left, which would take you to the guest bedroom—soon to be nursery—and the laundry room. 

Anticipation swelled inside you, arousal burning in your belly again now that you were on your way to finally having your husband alone and uninterrupted. The two of you were being as quiet as possible so as not to draw any attention to you, and once you entered the darkened hallway to your destination, you found yourself getting pressed back against a wall and Javi’s lips claiming yours—this wasn’t a chaste kiss; it was filthy with how his tongue plundered your mouth, feeling his desperation and need to have you. Your fingers clutched at the front of his dress shirt, and with his strength, he pulled you along by the hips, Javi walking backward while your lips stayed fused together. 

The bass of the track Diego was playing could be heard, but the closer you got to the laundry room, there were other muffled noises, one staying on beat with the song and another—

“Harder,” Robyn moaned on the other side of the door, and the dull smacking sound got louder. 

You and Javi came to a sudden stop, his mouth breaking away from yours as his head turned at breakneck speed toward the obvious sounds of your best friend and his cousin fucking in the laundry room. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” your husband quietly growled. 

From where you were standing, you could make out Sebastián grunting as he continued to thrust, “You’re mine, aren’t you? You’re my good little slut—say it.” 

“I’m your good little slut,” Robyn breathily whined. 

“That’s fucking right—open your mouth.” There was the unmistakable sound of the other man spitting, and you were stuck in place, eyes wide. “Swallow—that’s it, mi petirrojito (my little robin). You gonna come for me? You need my hand around that pretty throat?” 

Now, you and Robyn had discussed your sex lives at length, so you were aware of her kinks, but knowing and hearing were two different things, and she was really making you wonder if there was some merit to her calling you and Javi ‘vanilla.’ Your husband had apparently heard enough and took your hand once more to lead you back outside. 

From how tense his body was and the way he practically stormed out of the house with you in tow, you could tell your husband was pretty ticked off. He only stopped when you were in front of Daphne and Velma’s small metal-fenced corral, where the two calves were let loose—they were lying down together and got up when they saw you two making your way over. 

“Stay here,” Javi ordered. He let go of your hand, but you grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. 

“Wait.” He looked at you, anger that you knew wasn’t directed at you etched on his face. “Where are you going?” 

His features softened the longer he gazed at you. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, perching his palms on his tiny hips. “I’m sorry, mi amor—I’m just—” He looked around to make sure no one was nearby and quietly continued, “—really fucking horny—”

“You’ve got blue balls,” you interrupted. 

He huffed in amusement, smiling a little. “Yeah, I’ve got blue balls, and I think I might go insane—”

“If we’re cockblocked again?” 

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Yes. Three fucking times—three!” he harshly whispered, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “Over my dead fucking body will we be cockblocked a fourth time, so I’m getting us some goddamn privacy away from all of these people—I love them all, but I love you, my wife, more, and I’m dying to stick my dick in you. I need you to stay right here. That way, I’ll know where to find you after I get shit arranged.” 

That sounded like he was ready to go. 

Grabbing his left hand, you pulled his arm toward you and angled your head to read the silver Rolex watch on his wrist under the light of the string lights above. “It’s not even ten, babe. We’ll get so much shit from your family if we dip this early.” Your eyes met his. “They’ll be partying til two or three in the morning at minimum, and we’re gonna leave at 9:42?” 

The fingers of his free hand pressed to his forehead, and he sighed again. “If you really wanna stay,” he grumbled, “we’ll stay and wait to leave closer to midnight.” His tone said that was the last thing he wanted to do, and you understood where he was coming from. 

You reached to caress his cheek. “I’m fine with leaving, Javi,” you told him. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t the horny talking, and you understand we are going to get absolutely roasted at tía María’s next Sunday if we leave right now.” Every Sunday after his family got out of church, they went to tía María’s for good food and to catch up on what happened over the week. 

His hand lowered, and he looked at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you okay with getting teased at tía María’s next weekend if we leave right now?” 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh, yeah,” you replied, nodding. “I’m dealing with the lady equivalent of blue balls, and I’ll accept all of the teasing if it means you’re gonna fuck me very soon.” 

Once again, it was adorable how his face lit up, and he giddily chuckled. “Christ, I love you so fucking much,” he said and framed your face with his palms, Javi leaning in to kiss you tenderly. 

When his mouth left yours, he was still smiling, and he lifted your left hand, keeping his eyes on yours while he kissed the diamond on your engagement ring and then the smooth gold of your wedding band. “I’ll be back,” he told you, and didn’t let go of your fingers as he started heading toward the tent, your arm extending all the way before his hand and himself slipped away from you. 

If you had to guess, Javi wanted you to stay in this spot so your bovine daughters could keep you company, which they were, the girls sticking their snouts between the corral’s bars for you to pet their heads. What your husband failed to think about was your location meant that, when Robyn and Seb came out of the house a few minutes after he left, you had no choice but to talk to them. For you, it was awkward pretending like you didn’t hear them fucking as you tried to convince your best friend to go enjoy the party with her boyfriend instead of staying with you while Javi was gone. Luckily, Sebastián was able to lure her away with promises of drinks and dancing. 

The remaining minutes you waited for your husband’s return were spent with the two calves. You scritched behind their ears, and they licked your arms as you told them how much you loved them and their dad and shared your excitement over them eventually becoming older sisters to a human sibling. 

Chucho had gifted you and Javi enough land for the home you were building that Daphne and Velma could live with you—a barn would be built, and you’d have a couple of pastures for the girls to roam. There was room for the garden you always dreamed of, a greenhouse, and even a chicken coop; your husband also planned on buying you a horse. Living out in the country was never something you imagined in your wildest dreams, yet now it seemed perfect for your life with Javier. 

When your husband found you, he held up what you knew was the key to his father’s prized ‘68 Ford Mustang, and he had to be excited, even if you couldn’t tell from his expression. In the over thirty years Chucho had owned the car, Javi had never been allowed to drive it—Chucho let you drive it, though, many times, which your husband was extremely jealous about. His dad made him a deal that when he married you, he could finally get behind the wheel, and you’d been waiting all night for Chucho to hand over the keys. 

Javi walked over to the fence to address the two calves in the sweet voice he saved for them, scratching each of the girls under their chins, “Lo siento, mis preciosas, pero necesito robar a tu mamá (I’m sorry, my lovelies, but I need to steal your mom). Me ha estado volviendo loco toda la noche, y es hora de que la lleve a casa y la vuelva loca (She’s been driving me crazy all night, and it’s time for me to take her home and drive her crazy) Las amamos y las veremos en un par de días (We love you and we will see you in a couple of days).” 

The moment he finished speaking, he looked at you with a smile on his handsome face. 

“Sorry it took me so long,” he said. “Pop gave me a long-ass lecture about the car and made me promise to be careful with it. He was acting like he wasn’t the one who taught me how to drive around the ranch when I was ten years old in the old work truck.” 

“Of course he lectured you. The Mustang is his baby.” 

His eyes darted away, sticking his hands in his pockets. “That he always lets you drive,” he mumbled. 

See, extremely jealous. It made you giggle. 

“You need some peanut butter with that jelly, Mr. Peña?” 

His attention came back to you, and this time, he was frowning.

“No.” He shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, baby. You know it bothers me how easily he hands over the keys to you, but I only get to drive it this once. Or at least not again until we have a kid.” 

Chucho would definitely let Javi drive the Mustang again if you had a child. 

“Did he tell you where you could and couldn’t take it?” you asked. 

His eyebrows creased. “No… He had a lot of rules about the type of terrain I could drive it on, but as long as I bring it back tomorrow with a full tank, I can drive you anywhere.” 

Stepping forward into his space, you rested your palms against his chest, his arm automatically pulling you closer. “He trusts you more than me.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because I am only allowed to drive it if he’s in the car with me, and I can only go where he tells me to. He trusts you enough to let you borrow the Mustang and go wherever you want without him present—he trusts you more. Now, Mr. Peña, how about we make a quick pit stop at the bathroom to wash up, then we blow this popsicle stand so I can blow your popsicle on the drive home?” You wagged your eyebrows, Javi chuckling. 

“You can blow my popsicle later, but yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here, Mrs. Peña.” 

With it being winter in southern Texas, the temperatures had cooled, but at this time of night, a coat wasn’t required when one went outdoors. Javier still kept the top up on the Mustang and turned on the heater to keep his wife warm since all she was wearing was that cute little dress that he hiked up enough to grip her bare thigh as they drove. 

Cielito was confused when they pulled out of his dad’s driveway and started heading in the opposite direction of town. She figured he’d take her straight home, and Javier thought her faith in him to hold out another thirty-plus minutes to drive them to their accommodations for the night was sweet. He, however, could not wait any longer and took them fifteen minutes up the road and through a gate that he had to get out and open, to the field they usually parked his pickup in to stargaze—driving off-road was on his father’s list of terrain he was not supposed to take the Mustang on, but this was a desperate time that required desperate measures, and what his father didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. 

Javier was going slow over the uneven ground, his eyes scanning everything in the path of the headlights for any animals—thankfully, this time of year, a lot of the creatures considered dangerous were hibernating or in a state close to hibernating, and his family, who worked on the ranch, did a good job of keeping predators off his dad’s land. He was still double-checking to ensure his wife was safe, even if he wasn’t worried about them running into anything. 

“Javi?” She squeezed his hand on her thigh. 

“Yes, mi amor?” 

“I know I said stargazing was a very effective form of foreplay, but with how horny I am, all I need is a little bit of kissing and I’m good to go—there’s no need for you to woo me with your knowledge of the stars.” 

“We’re not stargazing,” he replied, bringing the car to a stop and putting it into park. He looked over at her face, which was slightly illuminated by the Mustang’s lights in front of them, and smiled. “A little bit of kissing for me and I’ll be good to go, too.” He turned in his seat toward her, taking her chin between his index finger and thumb to gently pull her forward, and he met her halfway, his lips crashing into hers. 

One kiss and the dam broke, all of their pent-up need for the other flooding their systems, his wife growling when she deepened it, sliding her tongue against his. Blood rushed to his groin, and Javier moaned when her hand pressed to the front of his pants to stroke over his thickening cock. Her tongue in his mouth, her palm between his legs, the scent of her perfume—she was driving him crazy, and he wanted her to feel the same; he got his hand under her dress, ghosting his fingers along her inner thigh to the heat at her center. His fingertips felt her arousal seeping through her panties, and he groaned at the fact she was ready to go. All he’d have to do was push aside the fabric, and he could slide right in—and he did just that with his fingers, moving the lace out of the way to press his middle and ring fingers into her sopping pussy, soaking his gold wedding band in her juices. He swallowed her shuddering moan, his crooked digits easily pumping in and out of her.  

When he decided to bring her out here, he had a plan: he was going to sit her on the hood of the car and finally eat her out, then he would’ve fucked her on it. His plan changed when he felt how wet she was for him, and now all he wanted, no, needed, was to get his dick inside her. 

He removed his fingers, Cielito chasing his lips when he pulled away, turning his attention to the steering wheel and the controls beside it. Squinting his eyes, he tried to find what he was looking for in the dark and pressed a button that made the roof begin to open. 

“Thank fuck,” he whispered under his breath. In the time it took to get the top down, Javier undid his seatbelt, pushed his seat back as far as it would go, and reclined it all the way to have it almost flat. He didn’t have to say a word when he gently tugged her arm; there wasn’t a center console between the seats, just a low column, so it was easy for her to unbuckle and crawl over into his lap while he laid down. 

Arousal was simmering in his gut and threatening to boil over. It didn’t help when she lifted his left hand and leaned down to suck his ring finger into her mouth—she hummed appreciatively at tasting herself, the sensation of her sucking his digit causing his cock to twitch, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Turns you on that I’m wearing the ring,” he rasped. “You love that people can see I’m yours.” 

She came off of him, raising her head with a smile. “Yes,” she answered. “It’s so fucking sexy—now, it’s time to get that pretty dick out so I can sit on it.” 

He smiled at her impatiently opening his pants, getting his belt unbuckled and undone, then popping open the button and pulling down the zipper. She rose, and so did his hips, Javier shoving his slacks and boxer briefs down enough to free his throbbing length and sat once more. 

She was looking down. “The prettiest dick,” she said, and he watched her lick her palm, his mouth falling open as she took him in hand, giving him a couple of strokes. Christ, he could feel the metal of her rings and was so worked up that just her touch had him close to coming. Sweat was forming on his forehead as he tried to focus on his breathing and not blow his load all over her fingers. “If you come immediately,” she started, her other hand moving her underwear out of the way for her to notch him at her entrance. Javier swallowed hard and grabbed the meat of her thighs for something to hold onto. “It’s totally okay,” she continued. “I know you’ll make it up to me later.”

She meant what she said, and he appreciated her understanding, but he really wanted her to come first, and he was going to try his hardest to make that happen. 

Cielito didn’t give him a chance to respond before she was sliding, agonizingly slow, down his shaft, her hot, tight walls enveloping him, taking him inch by inch. He couldn’t help the pained sound he made or how his back arched, his fingers digging into her soft skin. She had her palms on his chest for leverage, her eyes fluttering closed, her head thrown back as she let out a long, drawn-out moan that lasted until she met his thighs, and he was buried to the root in her.

“Nothing feels better than you inside me,” her words were breathy. 

Javier was fighting for his life—a fire was blazing in his belly, and he was balancing on a razor’s edge to not fall over and come immediately. He gripped the soft curves of her hips to hold her flush against him because he didn’t know how much friction he could handle. 

His breaths were coming out heavier, and he gulped, telling her through clenched teeth, “Don’t move.” 

She looked at him, the soft glow of the stars high above allowing him to make out her features, and her expression said she was delighted he was so close. He was pretty sure she was the only woman on the planet who took it as a compliment when a man came way sooner than he intended. 

“I said it’s okay if you come.” She wiggled, and Javier hissed. He used more strength to keep her completely still. 

“I’m not coming before you.” 

The Mustang​​ was a little cramped, and in order for her to fit on top of him, she had to strategically place her knees on things that weren’t the seat, like the low column that the gear shift was in and a ledge on the door used for an armrest. 

“You are a stubborn man, Javier Peña,” she said. 

“I’ll show you how stubborn I am,” he replied, and she squeaked in surprise when he pulled her forward to kiss him. His hand went to her back, unzipping her dress, and she understood what he wanted, getting her arms out of the straps while he undid her strapless bra that fell into the dress’ bodice. 

Javier had her sit up again, and he stared at her above him, thinking how gorgeous she looked; she was always stunning, and he thought she was even more beautiful now that she was his wife—he couldn’t believe she had married him. He got to fuck this perfect woman for the rest of his life, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was hard inside her and pulsating, the muscles in his stomach clenched tight with all of his effort being put into not coming. 

“Stay still,” he ordered. 

“Yes, Papí,” she sweetly replied. Her answer made him groan, his cock jerking. 

“Don’t,” he said and smacked her ass, which only made her giggle. Javier licked the pad of his thumb, then pressed it to her clit, and he loved how her breath hitched. “I’m gonna make you come,” he stated, circling the bundle of nerves. She tightened around him, and he grit his teeth, clearing his throat before he spoke again, his voice low, “I’m gonna make you come,” he repeated. “Then I’m going to fuck you, and we both know I won’t be able to last long, and that’s fine.” It was getting wetter where they were joined, her arousal dripping down to coat his balls. “Because after this—” His other hand reached to fondle her breast, her eyes squeezing shut when he rolled her nipple between his fingers. “—I’m taking you to the hotel I rented us a room at.”

“Javi,” she gasped and looked at him. 

He smiled, speeding up the pace of his thumb. “I plan on fucking all night, and I don’t want to be interrupted by Mrs. Hernandez banging on the wall because we’re being too loud—so, a hotel room—La Posada downtown.” It was the nicest hotel in Laredo and much better than the Motel 6 off the highway. “The Presidential suite, top floor. I’m gonna fuck you in the king-size bed, I’m gonna fuck you in the whirlpool tub, I’m gonna fuck you in the two-person shower, I’m gonna fuck you out on the balcony overlooking the Rio Grande, I’m gonna fuck you on every single surface in that room over the next two nights.” 

Her eyes widened. “Two nights?” 

“Yes. For everything I wanna do, one isn’t enough, and the first thing I’m doing when we get there is throwing your ass onto the bed and eating you out—my come and all—for an hour.” 

Her head fell back as she moaned. 

His fingers continued pinching and rolling her stiff nipple. Her inner walls were fluttering, and he knew she was close with how she was unable to keep quiet, the soft sounds spilling from her lips and going straight to his cock. 

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked. “Are you gonna come for your husband? Once you go, I’m going to come deep inside your perfect pussy, and I’m going to keep you stuffed full of me—if you aren’t already pregnant, you will be.” 

Shit, that last bit almost got him. Javier’s jaw was clenched, his heart beating a mile a minute. 

It didn’t take much more to have her falling over the edge—her entire body seized up, her cunt choking his dick, as she shattered with a cry of his name. 

“Fuck,” he panted. She was spasming around him, and the moment she went lax, he grabbed her ass, lifting her enough to thrust up into her. His feet were planted on the floorboard, and he started fucking into her rapidly, grunting with each stroke. 

She fell forward and began mouthing at his neck.

“Oh, fuck,” he whined, closing his eyes. 

After getting worked up so many times tonight and now being able to give in, he was hitting the point where he couldn’t stop himself from coming in record time even if he wanted to. It felt like his heart would beat out of his chest, and his wife was now nibbling on his earlobe, which wasn’t fair. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, pleasure welling up inside him. 

The muscles in his belly were winding tight, the fire now an inferno that would explode at any second. 

Her lips pressed to his ear. “Come for me,” she whispered. “Come inside your wife. Put a baby in me.” 

She was a siren, and he was a sailor at the mercy of her call—his balls tightened up, and he pulled her ass down, sheathing himself to the hilt inside her, coming with a guttural groan. His dick jerked and pulsed with spurts of his spend gushing into her inner depths, euphoria taking over his entire being. Everything went quiet, his mind going blissfully blank and his body relaxing.

The air was cool against your skin, yet you were warm, wrapped in Javi’s arms as you laid atop him, your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Here in the afterglow was when time ceased, and it felt as though you were the only two people in existence. Your body was all nice and relaxed; the need to get off had finally subsided… for now. 

Learning that your husband booked you the Presidential suite at the fancy, old historic hotel downtown and the promises he made of all of the places in it he planned to fuck you already had arousal stirring low in your gut.

Javi’s breaths had evened out, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, and though he wasn’t snoring, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was asleep right now with how hard he came. The Mustang was still running, a low rumble amongst the peace of a Texas winter’s night. 

Rustling in the grass outside the car had your ears perking, and suddenly, your husband was bolting upright with you on top of him. Your back slammed into the steering wheel, the blaring honk of the horn causing you to scream. Javi quickly got something out of the glove compartment before he pushed you to the side and down across the center column, the man wheezing when you accidentally kneed him in the dick. You were lying halfway on the passenger seat with your hands covering your head since you had no idea what the danger was while your heart pounded. 

Seconds later, a large palm pressed to your naked back, Javi’s voice a little higher than usual, “We’re safe.” He cleared his throat and spoke in a deeper tone, “Just a fucking armadillo—are you okay?” 

“Please tell me you scared the shit out of me and got hit in the dick for a giant, rabid, man-eating armadillo.” 

He huffed out a breath. “No, it’s a regular one, and from the looks of it, we scared the shit out of it—it rolled up into a ball.” 

That was something you wanted to see. You awkwardly crawled to get all the way into your seat beside him, seeing out the windshield in the light of the headlights that there was an armadillo rolled up into a ball. 

“Worth getting kneed in the groin?” you asked. 

“Nothing is worth getting kneed in the dick.” 

His answer made you snort. You needed to clean up the mess between your legs and remembered the little pack of tissues Chucho kept in the pocket of the driver’s side door. You looked over at Javi. “Can you pass me the—why the fuck are you holding a gun?!” you exclaimed, your eyes going wide. In his hand was some kind of revolver he was pointing up at the sky. 

His expression showed his confusion. “To protect us..?” 

That was obvious. You asked what you actually meant. “Where did you get the gun?”

The look on his face didn’t change. “The glove box…?” He nodded toward it. In front of you, it was still open. There wasn’t much in there, just an envelope with papers stuffed in it and a box of bullets that you assumed went with the revolver. 

Shoving your face in your hands, your voice was muffled when you spoke, “Why does your dad have a gun in his car?” 

Javi let out a long sigh and put his free hand on your back to rub soothing circles. “Baby,” he began gently, “we live in Texas—Pop lives out in the middle of fucking nowhere Texas. There are coyotes out here, mountain lions, bobcats, snakes—” You could hear him cringe with the last one; he wasn’t a fan of the reptiles. “—we have to carry around guns for our safety. You really think I take you out on Pop’s land without protection?” 

“With your aversion to condoms, I figured you like to live dangerously.” 

He huffed in amusement again. “You are the only woman I have an aversion to condoms with. In the past, I always wrapped it up because I didn’t like to take risks.” 

That had you turning your head to meet his eyes. “Why me?” 

“Why you, what?” 

“Why were you willing to take the risk with me?” 

He crookedly smiled, his hand moving to hold your cheek. “Because I trusted you. Two dates and you managed to gain my trust and steal my heart—you had me head over heels.“ Javi leaned, softly grunting as he put the gun back into the glove compartment and shut it. He kept talking, “I want you to know I’ve always been aware birth control isn’t 100% effective—“ His attention went to his door to grab the tissues that he handed to you, and you took. “—and when it crossed my mind that I could accidentally knock you up, I didn’t feel dread at the idea of raising a kid with you. It wasn’t like how I felt with—”

“She-who-must-not-be-named on our wedding day,” you interjected, not wanting to mention his ex Lorraine. 

“I won’t—you know who I’m talking about. I didn’t feel dread when I thought about having a kid with you. I mostly just worried if it happened, you’d find out about my past and wouldn’t want me in your or our child’s life.”

That was utterly heartbreaking. “I’d never keep your kid from you or kick you out of my life.”

He was softly smiling. “I know that now, but you remember how fucked up my head was before I told you about Colombia.”

That was true. He believed you would leave him when you discovered what happened during his time with the DEA.

“It fucking kills me when I remember how hard you were on yourself.” You dropped the tissues into your lap and took one of his hands into both of yours. “I’m happy you’re better now, and guess what?” 

“What?” 

You grinned. “We’re married, and I’m going to have all of your babies—all of them, every single one, and I really can’t wait to see you become a dad, ‘cause you’re gonna be amazing, and our children will be so loved.” 

His eyes were misting, and his smile matched yours. He freed his hand from yours to caress your face in his palms and kissed you. With how hard his lips pressed to yours, you could feel his love, his devotion, his happiness. This truly was the best day of his life, and it made you beyond happy to share it with him. 

Your stomach growled, and Javi pulled back to look at you. “Are you hungry?”

When he brought you the plate of food earlier, you only tried a little bit of everything, and you didn’t fill up because you were nervous about the dances. Now that all of that was done, the hunger was catching up to you. 

“Yes, can we stop by McDonald’s or something for a quick bite on our way to the hotel?” 

“No,” he replied, and you frowned. “I had Steve and Connie take a bag of leftovers that tía María put together for us back to our hotel room because I knew you wouldn’t eat enough at dinner—I figured it’d be nerves.” He shrugged. “And yes, there’s a big ass slice of cake,” reading your mind as always.

The Murphy family was staying at the same hotel and hopefully on a very different floor than your room.

His response had you smiling big. “Not even twenty-four hours married, Mr. Peña, and you’re already husband of the year.” 

He smiled and leaned in, pecking you on the lips. “Good,” he said and nudged the tip of his nose against yours. “I gotta make sure I keep my title as the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.” 

You bursted into laughter, and he joined. 

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[maxillness]

I Love You || Toro Rosso!SV5 x Engineer!Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, taking virginity, virgin!seb, alcohol consumption, thigh grinding, praise kink, orgasm denial, nipple play, sub!seb

Wordcount: 1.6k

Tag list: @e-nonsense @babyprofessorsharkpalace

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was wrong to imagine it was her hand wrapped around his cock while he jerked himself off in his drivers room with her on the other side of the door

But, mein gott, did he want her bad

He loved seeing her hands work so delicately on his car, and absolutely anything around the garage

He loved seeing her hips sway slightly as she walked around the garage

He loved her

But she was a few years older than him, and well… He was a virgin, so, she probably didn’t want him the same way he wanted her

They were out celebrating his win. The whole team and some of the other drivers were at the closest club they could find

They were all drinking, talking, having fun. But she felt bad for Sebastian. She knew he had a hard time with flirting

So seeing a girl walk away from him after they had talked, made her stomach drop

She slowly walked over to him, sitting on the bar stool beside him, turning her body towards him

“I feel bad for you, Y’know?” She started by saying “That you have a hard time flirting” Taking a sip of her glass

“Didn’t want her” He avoided her gaze, feeling it boring into his soul

“Why? She’s pretty” He didn’t answer “Wait. Did you finally get a girlfriend?” She asked with a big smile on her lips

“What? No” He finally looked up at her with knitted eyebrows “Just have an eye on somebody else” He mumbled, feeling the heated crumbled up on his cheeks as he looked down into his almost empty glass

“Really? Who? I wanna know” She said, leaning more into his space

“It’s… I doesn’t matter” He said, trying to find the words before regretting it

“You obviously like her a lot if you’re going to reject such a pretty woman, so it must matter” She said, putting a hand on his upper thigh

He hid his face in his hand, hiding the blush away. She pulled his face to look at her, pushing his hand away. She smiled lightly seeing the blush on him

“Who is it, Sebastian?” She felt him relax into her touch

She didn’t expect his next actions. He pushed her hand away from his face, taking his own on the back of her neck, pulling her into him, smashing their lips together

He didn’t expect her to kiss back, he really didn’t. Neither did he expect her hand to travel further up his thigh, closer to where he needed her the most

The kiss was messy and wet, Sebastian clearly inexperienced

“Take me. Please” His grip loosened on her head, mumbling into her mouth, eyes still closed

“Seb-“ He attached their mouths again, cutting her off to say something he didn’t want to hear

She stood up from the stool, pulling away from him, earning her a whine from him. She dragged him with her, pulling them out of the club

She didn’t care if any of the others from the team saw them. He needed her, and she happily obliged

She was forcefully pushed up against the wall of the elevator, pushing the air out of her lungs

It hurt when she made contact, but it was soon no matter when Sebastian’s lips was on hers again

Her hands went from his waist down over his hips and settled neatly on his ass. She squeezed lightly, making him whimper into her mouth

He barely got a chance to grind his hips into hers when the door to the elevator opened. She pushed him off of her, pulling him with her down the hall

He held tightly on her hips, pressing his hard-on into her ass as she found her key-card. They had barely entered before she was yet again pressed up against the wall

His grip wasn’t hard, so she could easily turn them around, and so she did. She had him pressed up against the wall, pressing on his waist

“Just let me take care of you, Sebastian” She said, almost in a whisper, her lips grazing his neck

“What? N-no! Let me-“ He tried wriggling his body out of her grip, but with no use

“You’re inexperienced, Seb… Let me take care of you” She finally fully attached her lips to his neck, making him hold in a whimper

“I’m not inex-“ A moan ripped his words from his throat as she put her knees between his legs, pushing slightly at his crotch “Bitte…” He whimpered, pushing further down into her knee

“Wanna let me take care of you?” She said, smirking to his skin on his neck

“Fuck, yes, please” He started rolling his hips, using her thigh to get harder and more aroused

“Good Boy” He shivered when her cold fingers lingered on his body as she pulled his shirt over and off of him

Her hands went down his body, feeling his skin on her. Her hands stopped at the waistband of his pants, sucking lightly on the skin of his neck

“Bitte… Fuck me, please” He grabbed her wrist guiding one of her hands down to the button of his jeans

“So impatient” She grinned, soothing the bruises with her tongue

She worked on the button and zipper with one hand while the other pressed on his abdomen, stilling his motions on his hips

She noticed the wet spot on his boxers the second she pulled his pants down and let the fall to his ankles. She chuckled at the sight, making his knees feel weak

She put two of her fingertips on the wet patch, making him moan low and hold onto her biceps

“You’re so wet. All for me?” He shyly nodded his head “I need words” She said, pushing hard on him

“Yes! Yes, all for you. All because of you” His eyes were screwed shut and head rolled onto the wall behind him

“Thought so” She smirked and sank down to her knees, making her look up at him

He managed to open his eyes when she pulled down his boxers, making his fully hard cock spring free and land against his abdomen

She let them fall down with his pants before placing small kitten licks on his tip as she grabbed the back of his thighs

His moans were loud but breathy “Sheiße. Stop teasing, bitte” He tried rolling his hips into her mouth, but she pulled away “Please! Es tut mir leid!“

“Behave” She said, looking up at him with hooded eyes. He whined, but put his hips against the wall again “Good boy”

She got back to his tip, swirling her tongue around it, smirking as she heard the beautiful sounds she drew out of him

She finally gave him what he wanted. She sank down on him, hallowing her cheeks. She started setting a slow pace, making sure her tongue traced his vein every time

His body was already shaking slightly, his moans shuttering. She sped up, making his body shake even more rapidly

“I’m gonna-so close” He barely managed between his moans. She pulled off of him, earning her a whine from him “Why-“

“Wouldn’t want you to come to fast, now would we?” She asked kissing his lips softly “Step out” She mumbled into his lips, and he obeyed immediately

Her still clothed body guided him towards the bed, pushing him down lightly “It’s not fair” He pouted, hands tugging on her shirt

She chuckled, but obliged. She pulled her shirt over her head and pulled down her pants, leaving her just in her bra and panties

When she got her panties off, she sat in his lap. His hands went to her waist as her own on her back to unclasp her bra

His lips immediately went to one of her nipples, making her sigh in pleasure. Her hand tangled in his messy curls, soothing his scalp

“Lay on your back for me” She said, tugging lightly at his hair. He did so, still holding her waist

She bend down, lips going to his collarbone, kissing light kisses “We don’t have to if you don’t want to”

“No, no. I want to. Please” He said, arching his back off the bed

She chuckled, leaning back. She raised her hips, lining herself up with him. She slowly sank down on him, earning them both a moan

She let herself adjust to him before starting a slow pace. He gripped her thighs tightly, encouraging her to go faster

She found a steady rhythm, meeting his upwards thrusts halfway. Her hands and arms trembled as she placed them beside his head

“God, you’re taking me so well” He whimpered at her words, blushing “Filling me up so good” She kept praising him, kissing over his face

“Fuck, feels so good” He whimpered, his eyes screwed shut, head rolled into the bed and arched back

His body was starting to shake again “Are you gonna come for me, Sebastian?” She teased, one of her hands going to her clit, circling it

“Yes, fuck, so close” His voice was shaking as well, barely understandable words coming out

“Come for me, good boy” It only took a few thrusts before he came, holding her down onto him

The feeling of him filling her up sent her over the edge, her whole body shaking. She caught his lips in a soft kiss as his breathing came back to normal

She pulled off of him, earning her a whine from him. She went to the bathroom, finding a damp towel, cleaning them both up

She pulled the sheets over his body before laying down beside him, his back pressed against her front

“You okay?” She asked, wrapping her arm around him, kissing his shoulder

“Mhm” He said, nodding, obviously too tired to answer “I love you” He managed out anyways

She was startled at his words, but smiled anyways, pulling his body further into hers

[lavenderfilledcoffin]

bright

adjective

giving out or reflecting a lot of light; shining.

*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*ೄ·*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*

It's the usual, as always. Slow day. Not many expendables had passed by, most dead, you assumed.

You bid them farewell and good luck, but it was in vain. Their screams could be heard a few doors down, poor souls.

Sebastian had you act as a cashier for his shop, basically. He would have you handle the data while he handled the 'merchandise'.

For now, you were leaning against the desk next to him, looking up at him.

He was in a good mood, for once. So the both of you talked about random stuff, switching from topic to topic.

"What's it like having a third arm?"

"A third arm? Never thought I'd hear that from you. Anyway. It's cool, honestly. I can feel my two arms up here just fine, but my third is... It's kind of... Uh. I can't explain it."

"Can you wiggle it?" Your question made him choke on his saliva, how the hell did you come up with that?

"Obviously I can! It's apart of me." He replied, a smile forcefully making its way onto his face while he wiggled his arm; his clawed fingers bending and unbending.

"Okay, okay! It looks funny, I'm sorry." You giggled at the display. He really was pretty when he smiled.

"What about your tail? I've always been curious."

"Huh..." He thought for a bit, wiggling his tail and watched it. It looked like... a snake's tail.

"It's cool as hell, that's for sure. I feel like a badass snake."

"Oh, Solace." You crossed your arms over your chest, the two of you just smiling at each other.

Suddenly, an expendable came rushing in with a mischievous grin on his face. Sebastian greeted him but your gut told you something was off.

You squint your eyes just in case, and you were right.

He pulled out a flash beacon, pointing it straight at Sebastian's face. He pressed the trigger, and it caused a blinding light to momentarily make the room look like heaven.

Sebastian cried out, immediately reaching his third hand down towards his shotgun, pulling it out of his holster, and shooting him.

You knew anglerfish have sensitive eyes, so, your heart ached when you heard him silently sobbing.

Your eyes recovered faster thanks to your squinting, and you looked back towards Sebastian.

His hands were covering his eyes and his mouth was slightly agape, he was trembling.

You didn't miss how tears fell and seeped through his hands.

“Oh, Seb…” You frowned, placing your right palm onto the front of his tail. He looked dazed, barely able to make out your face.

You removed your hand, shuffling away just a bit, and you sat on the table that was closest to him. You opened your arms, wanting him in them.

He leaned down, burying his face into your chest while he cried.

“I—I don’t get why… they—“ Sebastian’s voice was shaky, he tried his best to calm down but he just couldn’t. He was fed up with everyone.

“It’s okay. I can take over for you, mhm?” Your frown still remained, but you weren’t too worried since he couldn’t see you. Your left hand made its way onto his head, running it gently through the soft locks of black hair.

He sniffled, clinging onto your body while he nodded.

And so you did.

The darkness was comforting, as well as the softness of your chest. It made him calm down, but his eyes still ached.

Sebastian could feel every vibration in your throat down to your chest as you spoke to the expendables that passed by.

Some were holding back laughs, some were curious, and some were furious at the sight of you holding Sebastian.

The usual irritable and snarky businessman who is vulnerable and asleep in your arms.

Of course, you didn’t want to dwell too much on it, so you just eyed the dead body of the expendable who so rudely flashed him.

They got the memo, and stayed quiet as they purchased merchandise from Sebastian’s tail.

They paid, grabbed their newly purchased items, and left.

It had been a few hours, he was still dead asleep. You hummed a soft tune, analyzing everything in his little makeshift shop.

Many crates, loose assets, and jars occupied the space, you’ve always wondered what was so important in the data that he wanted.

Oh well, that’s a thought for another time.

As soon as the last expendable for the day left, he shuffled slightly.

You looked down to see Sebastian, except his left eye was barely open.

The rest of his eyes slowly opened… He was very groggy.

It was comparable to a kitten opening its eyes for the first time, adorable.

You smiled, smothering his face in kisses. You just couldn’t help yourself.

You pressed kisses all over Sebastian’s cheeks and forehead. The feeling of your soft lips against his skin made him melt.

When you finally stopped attacking his face with your kisses and looked down, you saw Sebastian with a goofy grin of what you assumed was pride.

You pressed a final kiss to the tip of his nose, “feeling better?”

“Way better.” Sebastian chuckled, untangling himself from your arm’s hold much to your dismay, and got back to his usual position.

“You did a good job today. I’m proud of you.” His right hand reached down to your head, patting it softly. “I’m glad.”

[stardew-shitposterino]

Stardew Valley Bachelors and how they deal with their secret crush on the farmer

———-——————————

BEHOOOOLD! I’m kind of back but I’m not because I have a job and feel tired most of the time. I still need to get used to adult life. Anyway, here are the bachelors and how they deal with having a fat crush on you, you cutesy farmer person covered in filth!

Contents might be a bit NSFW so MINORS…you know what not to do *fights them off with a stick*

Enjoy my brainrot 🍓🥰

Sam:

-Sammy is a cute little guy, almost like a dog wagging it’s tail when they see their owner.

-he is SO BAD at hiding it

-he will dream about you two jamming on a big stage together. In his ideal world, you two are a successful duo who make noise rock (kind of like the white stripes minus the weird siblings or married controversy)

-Sam will write songs about you. It’s not intentional per say, and he thinks he really sucks at writing love songs, but it just happens whenever he has to think about you. The words just start flowing.

-he might or might not have had some steamy shower fantasies about you…while in the shower. Jodie keeps complaining about the water bill being unusually high 👀

-yet, Sam is usually not too horny when he is in love with you. He is more gushy and daydreamy than anything

Sebastian:

-homeboy works with nightcore versions of love songs to cope with his longing

-he isn’t the type to show his feelings so openly, so no one really notices his crush on you. Maybe Sam, but well, he is Seb’s best bud. Of course he can tell

-He notices how his sleep has improved since having a crush on you. He willingly goes to bed earlier to have some time to imagine scenarios of you two

-just you and him together on his cool ass motorcycle, driving into the night and ending it with a passionate kiss (sounds familiar?)

-well,,, let’s just say Seb is increasingly horny since having a crush on you. Before, he was almost certain he is some sort of asexual, but nope 😃 he’s healthy and extremely down bad for the filthy farmer who eats raw fish out of the pond 🥰

-what I mean by horny? Uhhh… he didn’t really need to rely on certain websites to satisfy his needs, that’s for sure 👀

Harvey:

-Harvey is a good man. A very good man

-god bless his soul 😫

-Harv isn’t the type to have crushes easily…I can’t believe it either, considering his crush on Maru who is way younger than him 💀

-but in my head, he isn’t the type to be all lovey dovey over someone. That’s why he’s so bad at hiding it. But you don’t really notice. You just suspect it but it could also be his usual anxiety lol

-it happened anyway😎 and he doesn’t know how to cope. At all.

-he has to think about you at all times, especially when he looks at the empty jars of delicious pickles you’ve made him

-This man is usually collected, but now?! He forgets everything, can’t even form a comprehensible sentence at times when his mind is busy thinking about a romantic picknick date with a lovely farmer

-Harvey’s libido is pretty much a dead beat horse 💀 but now he even feels the desire to do some nasty nasty at times. It’s still pretty tame, he’s a gentleman through and through, but wild for him to have those feelings and longings after what feels like decades. He’s not mad at it. He has felt low-key dead inside for so long so this is very exciting and he’s eager to explore this side of him…despite being anxious 😭

Elliott:

-bet your ass he’s the prince of crushes

-he is very dedicated and welcomes those refreshing feelings with a kiss

-feeling better than usual AND having inspiration to write ?! SIGN HIM UP

-he will use every chance he can get to talk to you, maybe even get you drunk (in a non creepy way) because he likes when you’re unapologetically authentic and let loose. It makes him feel more in touch with your soul (or some shit idk I’m not a poet)

-Elliott is NOT SUBTLE

-you practically know from the start that he has the hots for you, but it’s kinda funny seeing him try to pretend it’s not that way…if you can even call that pretending not to be 😭

- his passion doesn’t end at his artistry. This guy will spend a lot of time in his shower thinking about what could be, or sitting at the docks at night just staring at the sea (he’s NOT doing anything nasty in public, peeps. Don’t get it twisted)

-I can also see him recreate a romantic bedroom date he’d love to have with you…but it’s just him 🤷🏼‍♀️ self care king 👑

Shane:

-like Harvey: HE CANNOT COPE!

-he hasn’t felt like this since high school. Every other encounter with potential partners was surface level and only based on sexual satisfaction

-so caring about you, thinking about what makes you happy and how he could be the reason you smile every day, that’s a lot for him

-as stupid as it sounds, he spirals and becomes low-key miserable over it. Give this man a 101 lesson on how to process emotions 😭

-despite the constant anxiety he feels, he low-key enjoys it. It’s kind of hopeless as well as pointless in his honest opinion, but there is this believe, that 0.00001% chance (in his mind) that he could turn his life around and be happy with you, married and maybe have a child of his own one day

-but that’s wishful thinking, riiiiiiight? So what does a self loathing piece of alcoholic man do instead of making a move? Yeah, self pleasure even more than usual, to get at least a bit of serotonin and the willpower to get his shit together, at least for you if it isn’t for him. He’s pretty rough with it too (ouch, unless you’re into that)

-sorry bros but him having a crush is not really all that cute. He’s my cutie pie, but let’s be real: him dealing with those feelings he tried to shut off for so long will be tragic in a way. He’s battling his inner demons here. So yeah… :(

Alex:

-my man, my maaaaan 🥰

-he has earned a soft spot in my heart, bless his soul

-so Alex has a crush on you from the start, it’s basically canon

-can he show his feelings? Yes! Can he do that in a way that can be read as the feelings he tries to get across to you? NO!

-low-key bullying is his love language 🥰

-at least in the beginning. He’s a bit anxious and fears he isn’t good enough for you, so he doesn’t try to be authentic. Being the jock jerk everyone expects him to be gets a reaction out of you and that’s better than nothing, right?

-he’s neither the poetic nor the intellectual type, so he doesn’t process his emotions by writing them down or putting them into words. Just imagine him going about his work-out routine, just thinking about your beautiful smile and rocking bod while sweating like a hog

-Alex and quiet ? Yes that’s possible. I imagine him to go quieter than usual since having a crush on you. He processes everything internally and that takes a lot of time for him as he usually just shrugs off his emotions and doesn’t try to brood too much on them. But now?! He can’t but blush in silence as he just imagines how soft and small your hands must be next to his (yours are way more impressive than his and calloused to the gods, but let him have this moment)

-when it comes to being nasty…Alex is a serial romantic. We know that he probably was the lady’s man back in school so he probably got some action one way or another. In other words, man has the libido of a teen that just hit puberty 💀

-despite being quite horny, he was able to manage to just do it every other day. Now, he cannot even get out of bed in the morning before doing it as you pester his dreams and make his hormones go crazy first thing in the morning…so many nice boxer shorts were lost along the way 🫡

-he also did his own laundry for the first time during that period lmfao

[pressureplus]

*Jumps in through the hole in the ceiling*

Author-San you have to listen to this fic idea where the reader is besties with pandemonium in their first run.

Like imagine Sebastian just starts to introduce himself as the reader's only friend down there, and the reader's like, "oh I have my bestie waiting outside!" And Seb is just confused since he knew that urbanshade just send only expendable here so his like "who did you meet here, can I get to know them" And the reader is like, "sure! They're a nice big guy" And calls them to come inside the shop

Sebastian was clearly expecting a human to enter but in comes pandemonium, squeezing it's big body inside the vent to enter his shop.

Fish guy looks horrified while the reader just happily cuddles with pandemonium and is like, "meet my best friend pandy! "

No Problem!

Friends in Strange Places

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: My version of Pandemonium, mentions of rotted flesh, Pandemonium is a sentient creature like a human person, does pandemonium count as body horror?

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

“You have…another friend in here?” He asks incredulously. His eyes narrowing in on your form standing so small and happy below him. His smile falling for only a moment at the thought of not being the first to grab a hold of you. He needs that data, he needs your trust. Still you smile and nod. His tail flicks in irritation at the thought of having to wrestle you out of another creatures grasp. Well, he supposes if he leaves you be, one little expendable can’t be worth anything…right?

“I do, he’s a bit big though, kind of like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah, like you! You wanna meet him?”

“Well I-” It’s much too late. You turn from him and pop the vent cover off once more, whistling for your supposed friend. It’s probably for the best he learns of what kind of competition he has down here. If it’s some kind of human much like you, he can easily get rid of them. Then, the distant sound of crunching metal and fast paced movement. Some kind of large creature racing through halls and claws digging into metal. A sort of screaming sound, a cacophony of wails. The voices of lord knows how many souls trapped and bound together by ties none of them understand. The screeching of the damned and broken, like a beast out of hell. The clatter and hiss only grows louder as the large creature forces its body through the vent to his room. Coming when called like a trained dog? How peculiar.

At last two large, clawed hands snap out of the vent, digging into the walls as a black sort of sludge slithers out. A body quick to reform, holes in its chest and sides adorned with eyes. The silvery gaze of what must be a few dozen eyes scan the room as the creature stands to its full height. A behemoth of what almost looks like rotted flesh, strips of black sludge connecting the sides of its jaws. The lower of which hangs like it’s broken filled with jagged shark like teeth. Long collections of black tendrils hook to the floor and walls to keep it upright and many more cover its head like long locks of hair, all connecting to the rest of its body oddly. A collection of what must be other mouths of sharpened teeth cover its large somewhat amorphous body as it seems unsure of what form to take. A being with a set mass but no set form, like some kind of liquid?

“Pandemonium.” Sebastian’s distaste is not at all well hidden seeing the animalistic beast before him. You, however, happily reach out to kind of pet the creature. It bends to your height as its eyes slowly disappear from the black hollow space of its internal body. It’s not an animal, not a human. All instinct and craving but not a human. How did you manage to get that thing to follow your every beck and call? Did you train it or something? How did you even manage that? What kind of monster are you?

“This is Pandy, isn’t he sweet?” The jelly like material making up the beasts body is cool to the touch, as it rests its head in your palm pleasantly. It’s careful to keep the form of an almost human like head to rest against you. A jawline, a nose, when you’ve devoured as many people as a beast like this has you recognize the forms and contours of a person. He has the appearance of a vaguely human shape in your presence rather than an indescribable blob of starved mouths, tendrils, and bloodlust filled eyes.

“Sweet is…a strong word. Where did you even find that thing- how did you get it to follow you?” Sebastian isn’t sure whether he should be impressed, horrified, or disgusted. You’re allowing that thing to act like a puppy as it nudges into your hand for good skin contact. It doesn’t get much positive contact, does it? It? He? It looks almost like both, maybe it is both? God why does it even matter?

“Hm? Oh! Well he ended up chasing me into a locker when I spotted him, him and one of those little void things in the locker fought over me. I thought I was going to be ripped apart until his hands jutted out to grab me. He tugged me free!”

“He isn’t supposed to have…hands.”

“Oh…?” You look over at Pandemonium, whose steely gaze is fixated on Sebastian. As if to demand he stops talking. It’s uncomfortable as Sebastian shuts his mouth.

“Well, either way, he saved me. I thought he was going to eat me but we kind of just stared at each other for a while. The rest is kind of history?” You smile and carry on like the confirmation of Pandemonium not usually having any other form doesn’t concern you. Sebastian just stares in mild horror. Is Pandemonium using you for something? He didn’t know that thing could plan let alone have complex thought.

“Right…well thats nice.” He clasps his hands together almost nervously as the beast's silvery eyes disappear within its body once more. He doesn’t want to deal with fighting it right now, and it seems more than content to not fight him either. Perhaps they can both work with you? He hopes so.